[dcs_p]In a smooth and practiced fashion, Mace pulled his arm from the crevice between
the bed and wall, drawing the shining sword out to catch the faintest glint of light
from beneath the bedroom door behind him. He knew the room well enough that
hitting the door would have been easy. He could only hope the attacker wouldn’t
move before that.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]As the sword left his fingertips and began its silent journey towards the shadows,
Mace could see from the corner of his eye a new image; a glint of silvery material
shone through the darkness. Considering the angle and the relatively complete
absence of light from the room, he knew this shape was near his desk and
moving towards him. He had to get off the bed fast.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Gunfire belched out in a terrible blast from the area beside his desk. In the
flashing light of death, Mace could make out a poorly cloaked Purifier battlesuit.
The battle armor gave itself away in the flashing darkness, failing to adapt quickly
enough to the brilliant pulses of light coming from its own machine gun. Mace
realized the Purifier’s wearer had been able to see him. He also realized his
stomach was red hot, burning from some kind of unknown injury. He dared not
waste time looking down in the darkness. He instead reached for his Hawk Eagle
automatic pistol as he fell hard onto the polished tile floor.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Reaching for his gun even as he rolled under the bed and onto the weapon itself,
Mace’s head slammed into the mattress frame’s underside. The pain never
registered though, and like a madman Mace unleashed no less than 6 bursts into
the tight confines, bullets from the slugthrower no doubt blowing clean through the
polyester of the mattress cover and into the surrounding walls and ceiling. He
hoped it would be enough.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]For a moment, Mace could see nothing. The room seemed to have gone quiet.
As he began to twist his head back and forth, looking to the edges of the bed, a
new pain broke into his spirit, a mind-numbing crushing sensation coming from his
right ankle that surpassed that of the hellfire that still burned in his abs. He tried
to point the gun into the direction of the impossible vice that was threatening to
pull off his foot, but it was no use. His body was pulled out from under the bed,
knocking his arms back and bashing his head onto the metal frame one last time
as he tried to look up at his assailant.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]And then Mace was hanging upside down. He felt a brief nausea rush over his
upper body, ending in his sinuses. He could feel something wet running from his
stomach onto his chest. It hardly seemed important now. More significant was
the blurry phantom before him that had somehow used the dim light in the room
to hide itself from him.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]He could still feel the pistol in his right hand. He knew it was useless but so were
the rest of his options at this point. This enemy did not want surrender. It would
have knocked him unconscious earlier rather than making a sport of the end of his
life. Mace drew a long breath into his lungs and yelled as loud as he could. He
could only hope to surprise or delay his killer, or simply warn his lancemates of
the enemies lurking about. Have to do what I can.[/dcs_p]