Knives in a Gunfight

If he counted correctly, he had three bullets left in his revolver. He was going to need to reload, and reloading was something you did after your opponent was dead. He didn’t have the time for that. He was heading for the door, but stopped dead in his tracks when a knife flew past, hitting the door with what seemed like great speed and accuracy. He slowly turned his attention from the door and towards the man who had thrown it. He quietly swallowed as he scraped the machete along the wall. He put the revolver back into its holster, reached inside his jacket, and pulled out his shotgun, pivoting the handle so he could actually hold it properly.

“I’ll pump you full of lead.” he stated. He took his three shots at the guy, pumping it between shots, of course, to get rid of the empty shells. He had to reload, sure, but at least he wasn’t slow at reloading. He wasn’t going down without a fight. He wanted to be able to leave this place, and he regretted his decisions so much at that point. He didn’t stand still while he was reloading, of course, he moved around. He wasn’t some sort of third class fighter. He knew what he was doing... sort of.

The man was fast. Much too fast for a normal human. He shouldn’t have been able to dodge all of those bullets. The kick to the face was unexpected, but he used the backward momentum to backflip back onto his feet. Audrey had underestimated the speed of this man. He tried his best to dodge the machete, but one had slashed him pretty deep in the torso. When he was kicked in the chest, he just used the momentum again to back flip, this time a bit sloppier. He brought a hand to his torso to check the damage done. He looked at his bloodied hand and realised that this was probably going to need stitches, along with that one slash he got to the thigh.

“You’re gonna pay for a new suit.” he quickly pulled out his revolver and shot at the man, before putting it away again, along with quickly placing the shotgun back in its holster. He did this all pretty quickly, and then did a few forward flips, giving the man a knee to the torso and a fist to the jaw. He also tried to disarm the man by grasping onto his wrist with one hand, keeping the machete away from him, and trying to kick the machete out of the way with his foot. That thing ruined his poor suit. Thank god for the adrenaline, at least. Adrenaline was a great way for him to ignore all the pain in his body.

He was busy enough not to notice one of the punches hitting him in the chest. He let out a grunt of pain, and automatically realised he was using a knife. No normal punch could pierce that deep or make that type of pain. Luckily or unluckily, it didn’t hurt his ribs too badly. Audrey could dodge the rest of them, however, knowing the man’s attack scheme by then. Well, until he got kicked in the groin. He let out another grunt of pain and fell to his knees. Maybe he was a bit overdramatic, but this was a plan. He then bent over, grabbed the man’s ankles, and propelled himself forward with his legs, pulling the guy down with him. He also left a nice bloody stain on the floor along with it. He quickly got up and placed a foot on the man’s back, ignoring the pain of his torso that was aching from the stunt he had just pulled. “I’ll play dirty if you play dirty.” he said, applying pressure to the foot that was on the man’s back. He knew, however, that the man was probably not going to go down easy. Nobody did, when he confronted them. That’s why he preferred hunting from afar.

He pulled out his revolver and pointed it at the man’s head. He, however, did not expect him to push himself up. He lifted his foot and stumbled back a bit, his revolver still trained on the hooded man. He had two bullets, and he still needed to reload. Either that, or he could pull out his pistol and start shooting with that. He, however, just prefered his revolver all the time. “Let’s be gentlemen. You let me leave, and I will forget that this ever happened. Usually I charge for a forgetting service, but for you, I’ll give it for free.” he suggested, finger hovering above the trigger. He could easily just shoot the man, but he’d give him a chance. Whatever small change he had. His torso was hurting and he felt the adrenaline rush starting to dwindle. He need to get out quick, or at least find another way to pump the adrenaline around again.

Audrey had to admit he was tired, but he wasn’t going to let it show. Showing tiredness or fatigue meant showing weakness, so he stood strong and kept his breathing steady. “If I ever see your face--” he paused, “Hood again. I will shoot you, straight through the brain. I’m not even going to give you a warning shot.” he slowly brought his revolver down, but didn’t put it into his holster just yet. He slowly made his way around the man and to his trolley bag, grasping the handle and heading for the door, though, he still had an eye on the man. He was ready to shoot him if he did anything funny. He tipped his hat in a sort of goodbye, “Have a good day.” with that, he took off his hat and tossed it towards Mack, “Keep it. I was going to burn it anyway. It stinks of Chicago.” And with that, he headed out the door.

With that, the adrenaline had almost completely run out. He was safe once he was out the door and put the revolver back into his holster. He scanned the surroundings and headed towards where he guessed was the hospital. He put a hand to his torso and sighed. He pretty much had to drag himself towards the hospital, the trolley bag trailing behind him. He had to admit that it was a good fight. He enjoyed fighting with people that could match up to him, though he was tired as hell, and hoped he wouldn’t just pass out from exhaustion. That would be bad. He tried to catch the atto grab himself a ride. He thought back to the moments before, and the man. Oh dear, did he wish he had seen his face. Without the hood, he could slip by him without a problem. What was he supposed to do, look for people in orange jumpsuits and hoods? That was ridiculous. The rest of his goons dressed like that.

His ankle was aching from the dog bite, and he realised that he was probably going to need to stay in Chicago for a night, at the very least. They wouldn’t let him board a plane looking like this. Audrey knew that he probably looked like complete and utter shit. He was lucky enough to catch the attention of a nice driver, who opened the door for him. The man stared at his condition, and all he said was, “Bring me to the nearest hospital, I’m bleeding to death.” which was pretty much true. He climbed in and closed the door, putting a hand on his wound, taking deep and controlled breaths. “I apologise, good man. If you drive faster, I’ll pay for all the blood I get on your car.” He pulled out his wallet and placed a good wad of cash on the dashboard area, and the man sped up.

The drive left him some time to think over about the fight again. He suspected that the man was a super human. He moved quick, much too quick, and he was quite strong. Though, his strength wasn’t something that was abnormal. To think that the guy also fought dirty, and if there was anything he hated, it was dirty fighting. He had to concentrate to keep himself awake, and decided that this was one hell of a night. Sure, he regretted it, but it turned out, well, not too bad, at least. After it all, there were a few things he could finalise about the man. One, he was a murderer, two, he had rabid dogs that were scary as fuck, three, he had henchmen, four, he knew how to use a knife, five, he was a raging psychopath Audrey hoped he would never ever bump into again, ever. He did not want a man in an orange jumpsuit to be his murderer. That would be a pathetic end.

This was another reason for why he loathed Chicago.