"What’s your na?" Sharon growled, eyes narrowing, hamr twitching in her gore-crusted grip. Her instincts told her that this woman was no ordinary woman.
The green-haired woman inclined her head, lips curling. "? Na’s Georgia. Technician by trade—fixing people like Tina." She eyed Sharon’s blood-streaked face with a knowing glint. "Looking at you, though... you don’t know jack about this world’s secrets, do you? Blissfully clueless."
"What secrets?" Sharon pressed, stepping forward, rifle at the ready. She had to know now.
Georgia chuckled, low and ominous. "Tina will spill it all when the ti’s right. But even blind like you are, you still slaughtered my people." Her eyes flashed malice. "You hamred them to pulp. Let’s see how you fare against the real threat now."
In a blink, Georgia vanished—air shimring like heat haze, leaving only the echo of her laugh. What type of tech trick was it? Was it The Bureau’s cloaking? No ti to puzzle it.
Footsteps thundered from the shadows—heavy, multiple, closing fast. Sharon’s instincts scread ambush. She ripped a belt from a nearby corpse, looping it quick around her waist to secure the hamr—its head still glistening with brain flecks.
Spotting a pump-action shotgun amid the carnage, she scooped it up, racking a shell with a tallic ch-chunk, and lted behind the bullet-pocked wall, breath steadying to predator calm.
The first man rounded the corner—bearded brute in black ops gear. Sharon exploded from cover, shotgun roaring point-blank into his gut.
His abdon detonated in a wet fireworks burst—intestines uncoiling like bloody ropes, stomach acids sizzling on the floor as shredded organs splattered the wall in chunky pink slurry. He folded screaming, clutching the gaping cavity where his spine peeked through eviscerated at.
"Shut the fuck up!" Sharon crushed his skull with her feet.
There was no ti to pause. She pivoted, pumping and blasting the next—double-aught buck tearing his face to hamburger.
Jaw disintegrated in a spray of teeth and pulverized mandible; left eye vaporized into jelly mist, the socket a raw crater weeping cerebrospinal fluid. He dropped twitching, piss and shit voiding from his ruptured pelvis.
Third charged with a tactical knife, roaring. Sharon sidestepped, hamr whipping free in a crimson arc—claws burying into his temple with a crunch. She yanked hard, scalping him in one savage pull—skin and hair peeling back like wet wallpaper, exposing pulsing brain beneath cracked skull.
Blood fountained as she spun him into shotgun range, blowing his chest open—ribs exploding outward like shrapnel, heart shredded mid-beat into quivering chunks that slapped wetly against the ceiling.
Two more burst from the kitchen door. Sharon dove behind an upturned table, pumping shells like a machine. First took a headshot—skull erupting backward in a gray-pink geyser, frontal lobe painting the doorway; the body ragdolled, brains dribbling from nostrils like spoiled yogurt.
The last lunged over cover, but she t him rising—hamr first into his throat, crushing windpipe to cartilage mush. He gurgled, face purpling, as she finished with the shotgun muzzle jamd in his mouth—BOOM.
Head backblasted into oblivion—teeth, tongue, and palate exploding out the rear in a crimson aerosol, neck stump spraying arterial jets like a severed hose.
Suddenly, Sharon as tackled to the ground as her attacker tried to choke her. She grabbed a knife, plunging into his neck before smashing his head with the hamr. His dead body fell on her, staining her whole body with blood. Pushing the body away, she sat up—spitting out the blood.
Sharon surged to her feet amid the steaming piles of offal, shotgun smoking, every nerve singing with battle high. But before she could catch her breath—a thunderous kick slamd into her chest like a sledgehamr, boot cracking ribs with an audible snap.
Air exploded from her lungs; she hurtled backward, spine smashing through a heavy oak chair. It shattered into jagged splinters that lacerated her back, embedding wood shrapnel deep as she hit the blood-slick marble, pain blooming white-hot.
"Fuck you! Fuck!" Sharon yelled.
The attacker lood—a towering slab of muscle in scarred kevlar, katana gleaming wickedly in the lights piercing the windows. "Georgia sends regards," he snarled, blade whistling down.
Sharon rolled, hamr already in hand—instinct over agony. Steel clanged on steel as she parried, sparks flying, the force jarring her fractured bones. He pressed, slashes carving furrows in walls, sending plaster and gore-flecked debris raining. She dodged a thrust that impaled a corpse instead, pinning its arm like a kebab.
Fuck your sword.
Feinting low, she surged inside his guard, hamr claws raking his wrist. Bone crunched—radius and ulna pulverizing into splinters that burst through skin in bloody spikes.
"Arghhh! ARGGGH!!"
The katana clattered free as he bellowed, severed tendons dangling like raw strings. Blood sheeted his arm, arteries pulsing crimson arcs.
"No fucking rcy for you!"
Sharon swung wild, feral—hamr smashing his elbow first, joint exploding in a spray of synovial fluid and cartilage gravel. He reeled, but she was a whirlwind—next blow caving his shoulder, deltoid shredding to expose collarbone in jagged white. Then the head—regular, relentless pistons of steel on flesh.
First impact cratered his cheekbone, eye socket collapsing inward with a wet pop, orb squirting free in jelly ropes. Second pulped the nose to bloody cartilage soup; third sheared ear clean off, flapping to the floor amid teeth shards. Final frenzy—temple caving like eggshell, brain matter erupting in gray-pink clumps that splattered her face—frontal lobe chunks sliding down walls like lting wax. He jittered in death, skull a cavernous ruin leaking cerebrospinal slurry, before crumpling into the viscera stew.
Sharon hurled the mangled hamr aside—it skidded through pooling guts, embedding in a wall with a thunk. Gasping, ribs grinding like broken glass, she snatched the fallen katana—its edge still keen, slick with nothing yet. Georgia’s cloaked laughter echoed faintly from the shadows. "Impressive. But it won’t save you forever."
Two n ran towards her as she clutched the katana in her hands tightly. She dodged the first man’s attack, kicking the second man away—she thrusted the katana through both of them, lodging them into the wall. They tried their best to remove it and escape—but they couldn’t.
With a deep breath, Sharon picked up a piece of brick. "Sotis, cowardness might save you from death." Clutching it tightly, she repeatedly hit their heads until their heads turned into paste.
She threw the brick on the ground as her eyes searched for Georgia’s presence.
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