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Damn, He missed again where he had aimed. The never happen to him this many times. How she keeps coming She much be a demon of some type. But knew one more to head or like that last hit it was over. His eyes glance to see if could not see anything he could pick up anything of fast and use block her. But new even if he did it brake his arm she still would pound his skull in. How did she hit him so hard? Why won't she stay down? She must be a demon.

He pulled the gun up for what he knew was the last shot. he tried to control his breathing to make shot could. He was center mass. **** headshots center mass works. The world was still spinning a little form the last two hits. His head hurt like hellfire. He knew she shaded his rips and from how hard it was to breathe he pretty sure she might have punctured his lung too.

When tried to concentrate and fire there was three of her. **** it, here goes he says to himself. He pulls the trigger.
Then again a sudden impact to the head was like a train everything thing when dark. Knees buckled he and dropped the gun he did not know what to do seem he was out. This would last few breaths. It was over he going to mee the gods tonight. He tried to smile, Not sure if did cold really feel his body at all. " Valhalla!" He said as he smiles in his whole face begins to brighten, least he thinks he said it.

It was over from there he would die and see the gates of the hall Vahalla. When it seemed his body wasn't going to go out quite yet instinctively as he began to fall lean forward trying to grab onto her. It would fight in tell he could not anymore. He tried to bite her, He squirmed his body through pathetic little punches whatever it can do as the strength of his body was fading. The blow to the brain was killing him it was over but his body was not giving up. The whole time he never lost his smile, the glare in eyes begain to fade. Then he slowly when limp.

When the third bullet broke the flesh on her leg, she gasped and took a couple of shaky steps back. The bullet barely missed her kneecap, instead sinking into the soft flesh above. Clo wondered how he had any fight left in him. She’d hit him hard, with the intent of taking him down. But even as she wavered, as her bullet-ridden left leg threatened to buckle, she watched him. And then he fell, so to speak. Just as she expected, her hits culminated in his failure. He shouted, which was unexpected, and then he fell, quite literally, into her arms.

Clo almost felt sorry for him, for the way in which he’d fallen. He’d had such fight in him, and then his body simply let him down. She couldn’t hold him up and hold herself up, so she lowered them to the ground. He’d successfully bitten her, which was a stupid reaction, in her opinion, but he’d had little left to offer. She might have done the same. The tension in his body began to fade, and that’s when she took action. Clo lowered his head down to rest on her thighs. The blood from her injuries made no difference. The aching and throbbing in her legs no longer mattered. She lifted her left wrist toward her lips and sunk her fangs down into the sensitive skin. The black blood seemed to hang there, like a thick tar on the surface of her tongue, her teeth, and her lips. And then it dissipated.

Clo had to force feed the blood to him. She pressed her bleeding wrist up to his mouth. She did everything she could to get the blood to him. And she waited. Waiting was the hard part. She didn’t know if he’d live or die, if she’d let too much time pass between the last blow and the introduction of her blood. Waiting was allowing the unknown to parade around in her head, to cause her whole body to thrum, every nerve to simultaneously ignite. Clo wondered if he’d ever move again.

It must have seemed like forever seemed like forever as he must've slowed time of the flow down itself as he just laid there limp like a dead fish.

Then suddenly about a 3 to 4 mins later, there was suddenly a sound of a heartbeat, she could hear it faintly if she listened. The heartbeat was extremely faint it rarely sounded like anything was happening at all. another 3 to 4 minutes later .hhis chest began to rise and he suddenly let out a loud gasp been begun to gurgle as he started coughing up blood. His head fell over to the side as if instinct was helping his body heal. Some of the blood began to drain out. He coughed a few times and then just seemed to go into a coma-like state as his body just laid there as if it was trying to heal the damage that had been done.

Seconds passed. Minutes passed. And then his chest rose. She contemplated leaving him there and hunting him down later, after he’d had a chance to recover and come to terms with the fact that she’d destroyed his life; instead, she remained there. She didn’t care that he coughed up blood that dribbled over his lips and down onto her pants. They were both messy, both of them worse for wear. Carefully, she lifted his head from her lap and rested him on the ground. Getting to her feet, she limped around the area to collect her gun and the shell casings from Runi’s pistol. More than likely, humans in the nearby houses had contacted the cops. They likely reported the shots fired, which meant more than one cop, which meant more than one enemy.

Clo limped back over to her newest childe and nudged the tip of her boot against his side. After that, she leaned down and delivered a few sound slaps to his face. They had to get the **** out of there. They didn't have time for him to heal, didn't have time for him to gather his bearings.

"Get the **** up," she hissed. In the distance, the sirens of a few squad cars sounded -- they were drawing ever closer.

After being slapped a few times Runi sets up, his body was still trying to heal but his subconscious started reaching around as if he was trying to find shell casings. He checked his weapon put it back in the back of his jeans under his jacket and kind of lean forward and Patting the ground trying to find shell casings. It seemed to be completely subconscious as if this wasn't his first time.


If she tried to get him to his feet he would still keep looking for shell casings as if he knew that he couldn't leave them. He didn't know how many in a sense but his brain knew there had to be shell casings he had to get them the cops would find them.

If she was to give him a shell casing in his hand within naturally put it in his pocket and look start bumming around for his keys as he did his best to try to get back to his feet ,He still seemed completely out of it like he was running on auto his movements were very much like a completely drunk or someone loaded on really good pills completely out of their mind and disconnected with their body.