Indelicate blades articulating blood-magic before he can argue. Three more through the opening. A step in, they howl. Blades forward, one overheard. Ready. Hungry.
Gunfire. A head becomes a blood-blossom. A chest is ripped open by lead. Third takes two shots in the abdomen.
Slab’s bigger. Wider. No less bloody.
Faces of men and canine savage, blood for blood.
(c) Joseph S. Pulver, Sr. 2010