Of Guns and Gore

Adapt or Die

(Hey all. It's been longer than I would've liked, and this chapter has actually been done for a little while. If I wasn't busy with trying to fail, and I didn't, my exams. So this chapter sidelines Six on favor of everybody's favorite Demon killer, which I hope doesn't take anything away for you. I feel a few concepts I've implemented are a bit shaky, but let's keep in mind that this is My little project here. Feel free to debate them though, and I more than welcome a little criticism considering I have been inactive for a bit.)

The Slayer would look back at the moment that Six collapsed mid stride while trying to enter what was left of Sword base and chuckle. At the time though, it was a huge pain in the ass. With the Spartan draped over his shoulder the Slayer could no longer simply wade through a pile of corpses while mowing down the Covenant infantry in a hail of bullets. Instead he had to leave his machine gun behind, which he was not happy about, and stick to trying to punch through their numbers with his sidearm.

Leave it to the Spartan to predict an enemy presence he wasn't even awake to deal with. It would also be his luck to have a new type of Covenant show up around now. These little flying bugs were an absolute nightmare to hit with his semi-automatic pistol, and there seemed to be over 30 in this hallway alone. The Slayer plucked a grenade from his waist, primed it, and lobbed it down the crumbling hall. The explosive drew the attention of the aliens away from him just long enough for him to lay Six down on the cold metal floor beside him. If everything went as planned, the Slayer would be able to take care of this resistance before any more Covenant could circle behind him, but he made sure to lay one of the many dead marines overtop of the Spartan just in case. This way anything sneaking up behind him would think Six another casualty of war.

The grenade sounded off alongside the cries of wounded or dying Covenant, just in time for the Slayer to reorient his attention back to the aliens. Two of the Elites had begun to dash down the hall amongst the chaotic shrapnel, energy blades drawn and poised. Most would see this as at least a minor annoyance, but the Slayer saw opportunity arise from this act of hostility. Drawing his super shotgun from his magnetic back clamp, the Slayer stepped from behind the corner of the hall and put the Elites in the center of his cone of fire. He had to commend the aliens, as they didn't falter upon seeing him line up a shot, but that foolish bravado did neither any good when he pulled the trigger.

The rightmost alien went down hard, sliding a few feet before it's corpse came to a stop on the cold bloodstained floor. It's partner was less fortunate, clutching it's stomach in a vain attempt to contain it's shredded organs. The Slayer was disappointed at first, but quickly came to the realization that this was a chance to yet again break out a good 'ol glory kill. He even got to come up with a completely new one to fit his new prey.

Three eyes movements later and he spurred into action, all pieces of his new creation coming together at once. He placed his super shotgun upon his back and made for the fallen Elite's plasma blade. Not taking even a single moment to stop his momentum, he scooped up the blade while ramming the stunned alien against the blood-speckled wall with his shoulder. The sharp exasperated huff of the air leaving the alien's lungs initiated step two, where the Slayer wrapped his hand around the leathery fingers of his quarry. Snapping them was child's play, and seizing the second sword was even easier.

Bringing his foot around, he savagely kicked the wheezing creature across the plasma scarred hall. His vision was tinted crimson as he slowly walked towards step three. Rational thought dripped from his psyche and each step made complex thought difficult. Oblivious to this subtle change, the Elite had begun to pinwheel it's arms like an Olympic swimmer in a desperate attempt to outpace the Slayer's wrath. Ahead of it, it's hesitant comrades raised up their weapons now that the hallway was clear. They almost seemed to be waiting to witness their ally's inevitable death before taking action themselves. If this were the case, the Slayer wouldn't keep them on the edge of their seats much longer.