Kazumi tightened her grip around the cold metal of her gun, the now familiar contour of its grip fit perfectly in her hand. The dimly lit cave echoed with the chattering of goblins, their beady eyes glinting maliciously as they brandished crude weapons—rusted blades, makeshift clubs, and jagged spears.
The first goblin lunged at her, its face contorted in pure rage upon witnessing what happened to its ally. It lunges at her intending to hit her in the face, but Kazumi is faster. She sidestepped, the goblin missed her by an inch, air whistling as the club swung past her. With a swift motion, Kazumi corrected her position. She puts the end of the barrel directly at the goblin's temple, point-blank range, and she fires. The gun roared, its loud sound amplified by the cave walls. Ears ringing, but kazumi paid it no mind.
The goblin's head exploded, a spray of greenish blood and shards of bone, splattered in the cave walls like grotesque art. Had it been on earth, it would not be strange for modern artists to display it in an art gallery.
But the chaos was just beginning. Another goblin sprang from the shadows, a dagger glinting ominously in its hand. They may be physically small, but they were very quick with their feet. Kazumi tried aiming at it, but the darkness of the night made it harder to focus on a moving target. The goblin quickly zooms in, closing their distance and swings.
Kazumi managed to evade just in time, still feeling the whoosh of air as the blade sliced past her. She jumped to the side, grabbing the attacker's shoulder with her left hand, stabilizing it. With her right hand, Kazumi pointed her pistol to its head. Without hesitation, she fired again.
The shot caught the goblin squarely in the back of its head, its brain littered the floor. Not used to firing without support, the force of the recoil managed to throw her out of balance and fall.
But the swarm was relentless—more goblins charged in, their eyes wild with rage and desperation. Kazumi had no time to stand; pointed her gun right at where the rushing goblins were. She unloaded the remaining bullets in her magazine. The charging goblins were met with a hail of lead that shredded their frail bodies.
For a moment, the air was filled with the stench of gunpowder and the sickly sweet scent of freshly spilled blood.
The chaos is not yet over, however. Kazumi understands that, she stands up ready to finish the her business. She headed to her supplies, grabbed her extra magazine, and quickly reloaded.
The surviving goblins screeches as they try to flee despite their injuries. Their bodies were riddled with gunshot wounds. Their blood spilled nonstop, flooding the area. Their flesh ripped from their bodies and littered the cave floor. A gory feast for the eye.
Like the Grim Reaper, Kazumi marched fearlessly through the pool created from the goblins' blood. As she drew closer, the goblins' cacophony grew louder, their anguished cries echoing through the mist-shrouded air. Whether driven by rage or desperate pleas for mercy, their voices rose in a chilling chorus. Undaunted, Kazumi methodically dispatched each creature, her pistol a cold and unforgiving instrument of justice. One by one, she ended their twisted lives with a swift and deadly precision. Thus the fight is over.
The fight was over, but the toll on Kazumi's body had just begun. For a moment, she stopped and breathed, the suffocating stench of blood and flesh filling her lungs, it was unbearable. The adrenaline that had fueled her veins now drained away, and the pain she had ignored minutes ago came rushing back. Her legs buckled, and she crumpled to the ground like a puppet severed from its strings. She struggled to stand, but her strength was spent. Her muscles trembled, and her vision blurred. It was as if the earlier show of courage had been a mere illusion, a fleeting facade that had masked her vulnerability.
She forced herself to crawl back to her supplies, but the sight of the carnage was too overwhelming. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she vomited. Her eyes fluttered closed for the second time that night, succumbing to the crushing weight of physical and mental exhaustion.
She'll deal with it all tomorrow, when she's feeling stronger.