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Assignment Great Britian
#34
De was kneeling on the floor, one hand clasped over the imangined hole in his chest as the other continued to point the barrel of his gun at the closest of the perceived threats that were slowly advancing on him. Eight shots in the gun, another eight in his back pocket, and nearly one hundred angry faces (or approximations thereof) quickly closing in on him. Not bad odds. Not bad at all. He'd gotten out of worse.

......

......

No he hadn't! He was a dead man and he knew it. He'd been stabbed before sure. And he'd been surrounded by vampires and demons before, naturally. But never before had he been wounded so mortally while surrounded by such creatures. And never before had they confronted him in such numbers. A part of him wanted to cry, but his more macho tendencies was still dimly aware that there were women present and that sobbing like a big babby would do more harm to his image than good.

His heart should have been racing, but bleeding as he was only the irregular thump of the failing muscle resonated into his palm. The scene before him had been steadily growing darker by the moment, and the gun in his hand felt as heavy as an iron weight. He was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it.

His aim faltered as the muscles in his arm finally began to cave in, the barrel of the pistol he held dropping several inches before he was able to pull it back up. How close were they? Everything was so dark. He could hear them. Feel them. But something was.....different. He blinked a few times as he drew in a few ragged breaths, now starting to come to grips with what it was that had struck him as odd. It still felt like he was dying, and he still had that tingle....but this tingle was......wrong.

Purple locks whipped about his face as he shook his head feircely, trying to clear it and finding that the action he thought would be futile was instead having the desired effect. His vision was quickly returning and he could feel his heartbeat become more rhythmic, but that tingle was still there. Springing to his feet his eyes darted about the room quickly looking for the legions that had just moments before be approaching him, bringing forth his doom. Instead they came to fall upon his chest, finiding it unharmed and his hand clear of the blood he'd felt warming it just moments before.

But he still had that tingle.

And that's when he saw him. Or rather....them. The doctor was the first to catch his eye, De quickly realizing he'd just been under the effect of Crane's nefarious toxin. But behind him. To the side of him. all around all of them..... Ghosts. Real live....well...real dead rather....ghost. Well that explained that. He had been getting his ghost tingle when he should have been getting his vampire and/or demon tingle. And who knew how much of his little display the ladies had seen? A mental note was made to give himself a dopeslap at a later time and place.

"Ooooh kay..." he said, holstering the gun he knew would serve next to no purpose now. "....someone want to tell me who all the dead blokes are or would ya rather we just grab the doc an' run?"


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