No point just letting him heal. Someone has to die and by god, it's going to be him. You grip the second bottle tightly as you prepare to throw.
"IF ANY OF YOU ASSHOLES DIE ON <span class="mu-s">MY</span> FUCKING WATCH, I'LL GO TO HELL ITSELF TO BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA YOU!" You bark out your command. "WE'RE GOING TO LIVE FOREVER! I SWEAR ON MY WORD!"
Everything quickly becomes a whirlpool of violence after your cute little speech. Maybe it's the drugs and equipment you gave your fighters. Maybe it's some anomalous effect. All that you know is everything is going <span class="mu-r">red.</span>
<span class="mu-i">Ever since the beginning, there was war. And ever since there was war, men have fought for what they stood for.</span>
Your head goes fuzzy. God, did you just hear something whispering into your ear? You try to regain your focus, if only so you can get a clean shot with the molotov.
https://youtu.be/ySHkRCho_80 (COMBAT THEME) Despite not being that far away from the fighting, you can hardly make anything out in the red haze in front of you, though your ears don't fail you. A deafening gunshot. Metal smashing against bone. A depressing honk. A bellowing war crime from <span class="mu-i">a true American.</span>
You take in a deep breath and try to focus. Get the red out of your eyes. Someone yells your name. Isabelle? Monifa? It's a girl, you know that at least. You can't make out what's said.
You reel back your arm. Something's charging closer to you. You take a moment to step back before throwing your burning bottle. The sound of shattering glass and flesh igniting is <span class="mu-b">always a guilty pleasure of yours.</span>
Your vision clears up once the fire starts burning. You instantly regret it clearing up when you see what's standing only a foot or two away from you.
It towers over you, tall enough that its head...or heads, rather, are squishing against the ceiling. Dozens of thick, burly arms sprout off from a core of dozens of twisted grimaces. All of the demon's, nay, American's face. Several short, stubby legs keep the abomination upright.
<span class="mu-i">A true one man army. His platoon can't keep up for long.</span>
<span class="mu-s">"YOU!"</span> All of the heads bellow out, all staring right at you. <span class="mu-s">"FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN! NO MORE OF YOUR FUCKING BOTTLES!"</span>
You quickly stumble back from the creature as the last attacker, Vincent, slashes across one of the faces bulging out from the twisting mass of flesh and hate. This gets it's attention, causing it to chase after the chef instead of you.
As you try to adjust to whatever the anomaly has turned into, you take stock of everything. The cluwne is barely staying upright, with Gamma's shades long since beaten off his face (and a nasty hole in his left arm.) Delta's the only one who doesn't seem frazzled or injured (though most aren't as badly injured as B2 and Gamma).
<span class="mu-b">His smile goes from ear to ear, showing off all of his teeth.</span>
"ADMINISTRATOR? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO FUCKING DO?" Isabelle yells out, trying to get your attention.
