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The ugly thing snarled angrily at her, but it refused to let go. So, Elsa pushed the gun towards the demon and yanked back sharply. A red shell flew from the loading flap, and the beast’s many eyes widened, only for the next cluster of buckshot to pulverize its already mangled face. With a gurgled sigh, the demon fell back in a bloody heap, allowing Elsa to roll across the ground and pick up her other shotgun in time to pulp a charging brute.
Ana’s kills were no less brutal, as she was using what you assumed to be an enchanted spear of some sort. This was because her spear-tip was on fire, and not even the blood of her enemies could quench the intensity of its flames. Despite her targets being demons, the magical weapon appeared to be more than capable of burning her foes from the inside out.
Sometimes she would leave it buried in one of her targets for a while, and then switch her focus to an adjacent enemy so that she could carve them up with the multitude of knives and hatchets at her disposal. Even without their weapons, these two women seemed more than capable of dispatching a demon or two with their bare hands and feet.
By comparison, your Desperados were noticeably less adept at killing these things. Flint pretty much had his hands full with crowd control, as he was the only reason you hadn’t been overrun already. He was sweeping through the room, snagging stray demons and smothering them in sand, or just pushing them around until they were able to fight their way out.
Every now and again, he’d switch up his transformations, just to keep the enemies guessing. The fact they couldn’t really hurt him was definitely a big plus, too.
That only left Cat and Prowler. And out of the two, Cat was definitely struggling the most here. Her claws weren’t able to dig deep enough to kill most of these things. At best, she was doing a fantastic job at disabling the enemy by striking at their vulnerable points and slashing at the areas that would bleed the most. It wasn’t working to put any of them down quickly, but she was undeniably contributing to the fight. Somehow, she’d managed to avoid being hit, even a single time.
If only the Prowler had been so lucky. However, that wasn’t to say that he was doing bad out there. Quite the opposite, in fact. Wearing a new set of gauntlets and boots that he’d made during his downtime, your fellow Desperado was fighting with speed and ferocity that rivaled that of the demons he currently faced in combat.
Just like them, he was clawing and swiping, kicking and stabbing, using the brief bursts of speed that his boots offered him. His gauntlets glowed menacingly as he struck at the demons with an almost surgical precision and an unwavering brutality, leaving green and violet light trails that made his movements a bit harder to follow.
(Cont.)
