Battle for Joey’s apartment part 2

Chaos swallowed the apartment complex.

Gunfire echoed between buildings.

Car alarms screamed.

Blue rune-light from Elias’s traps flashed across the parking lot like lightning while hunters scattered for cover behind vehicles and concrete barriers.

Joey had officially lost track of how his life became this.

Twenty-four hours ago he worked at Burger Chief.

Now he was crouched behind a flipped Honda Civic holding a cursed machete while vampire mercenaries fought assassin cultists outside his apartment.

Crystal ducked beside him, breathing hard.

“I would just like the universe to know,” she said shakily, “that I was not emotionally prepared for any of this.”

Another explosion shook the parking lot.

“That makes two of us,” Joey muttered.

Across the lot Malcolm physically hurled a hunter through a windshield.

Valerie vaulted over a car hood while firing her shotgun one-handed.

Cassandra moved through shadows like living **** itself.

And Elias—

somehow—

was arguing with a glowing rune tablet while under active sniper fire.

“No no no,” Elias snapped at the device. “You cannot update right now!”

A sniper round shattered against his magical shield.

“Seriously?!” he yelled upward. “I’m troubleshooting!”

Joey almost laughed.

Then movement caught his eye.

One of the hunters had circled wide around the fight.

Toward Crystal.

The man wore dark tactical gear with silver chains wrapped around one forearm and a strange hooked blade in his hand. Unlike the others, he ignored Cassandra completely.

His eyes locked onto Crystal.

Weak target.

Easy leverage.

Joey felt cold instantly.

“Crystal,” he said sharply.

She looked up just as the hunter lunged.

Joey moved without thinking.

The cursed machete practically jumped in his hand.

One second he was behind cover—

the next he slammed directly into the hunter hard enough to knock both of them into the side of a parked car.

Pain exploded through Joey’s shoulder.

The hunter recovered faster.

Way faster.

A brutal elbow smashed into Joey’s jaw, sending stars across his vision.

“Oh you little bloodbag,” the hunter snarled. “You should’ve stayed hidden.”

Joey swung instinctively.

The machete screamed.

Not metaphorically.

Actually screamed.

A horrible metallic shriek erupted from the blade as black runes flared across its surface.

The hunter’s eyes widened.

“…What the hell is that?”

“I HAVE NO IDEA!” Joey yelled back honestly.

The hunter attacked again.

This time Joey reacted faster.

Fear.

Adrenaline.

Instinct.

And somewhere beneath it all—

the strange confidence Cassandra’s world had been forcing into him since the beginning.

Joey ducked the hooked blade barely in time and drove the machete upward.

The cursed blade bit deep into the hunter’s shoulder.

Black smoke exploded from the wound instantly.

The hunter screamed.

Not in pain.

In terror.

The machete pulsed violently in Joey’s hands as though hungry.

The hunter stumbled backward clutching the wound.

The flesh around the cut had already blackened unnaturally.

“What did you DO?!” the hunter shouted.

“I work at Burger Chief!” Joey yelled back. “I don’t know anything anymore!”

The black flesh spreading and rotting.

“Oh that is SUPER cursed,” Joey breathed.

The hunter raised his weapon again—

then suddenly stopped.

A massive shadow fell over both of them.

Greta.

The enormous half-ogre cracked her knuckles slowly while glaring down at the wounded hunter.

“You,” she rumbled, “tried to hurt my redhead.”

Crystal blinked.

“…Your redhead?”

Greta ignored her completely.

The hunter backed up immediately.

Which was probably smart.

Greta grinned.

It looked genuinely terrifying.

“I’m going to enjoy this.”

The hunter threw a silver knife directly at her throat.

Greta caught it.

Without looking.

Then crushed the blade in her fist like it was aluminum foil.

The hunter’s confidence visibly broke.

“…Oh.”

Greta punched him once.

Just once.

The sound was unbelievable.

Like a car crash wrapped in thunder.

The hunter literally left the ground.

He flew backward through the air, smashed through the side window of another vehicle, bounced off the frame, and collapsed motionless onto the pavement.

Silence hit the immediate area briefly.

Even Valerie paused mid-reload to whistle.

“Damn, Greta.”

Greta rolled one massive shoulder casually.

“He seemed disrespectful.”

Crystal stared at her with wide eyes.

“…I think I’m attracted to you now.”

Greta pointed immediately.

“See? She gets it.”

Cassandra appeared beside Joey in a swirl of darkness, blood splattered across one side of her face.

Her glowing crimson eyes immediately locked onto him.

Then the wounded hunter.

Then the cursed machete.

Then back to Joey.

“You injured him,” she said slowly.

Joey blinked.

“…Yeah?”

“With the cursed weapon.”

“I mean—technically?”

Cassandra stepped closer.

Joey felt it through the bond instantly.

Pride.

Shock.

And underneath both—

something hotter.

Something dangerous.

“You protected Crystal,” she murmured.

“Well yeah,” Joey answered, suddenly self-conscious. “He was going after her.”

Crystal pointed dramatically from behind Greta.

“And Joey went FULL psycho lumberjack.”

“I did not.”

“The machete screamed, Joey!”

“I KNOW!”

Greta barked a laugh loud enough to shake nearby windows.

Malcolm finally approached through the wreckage carrying an **** hunter over one shoulder.

“We’re pushing them back,” he rumbled

As if he wasn’t carrying a fully grown man like grocery bags.

Elias jogged over moments later, covered in soot.

“I trapped two more in the stairwell ward!”

Valerie reloaded another silver shell.

“One escaped.”

Cassandra’s expression darkened immediately.

“Running?”

Valerie nodded.

“Fast.”

Greta cracked her neck.

“Good.”

Joey frowned.

“…Good?”

Greta grinned again.

“Means someone survives long enough to spread the message.”

The implication settled heavily over everyone.

These hunters hadn’t expected resistance.

Hadn’t expected monsters.

And definitely hadn’t expected Joey.

Cassandra stepped closer to him again, eyes flicking briefly toward the cursed machete still hanging loosely in his hand.

Then up to him.

“You realize,” she said softly, “that normal humans do not usually charge armed hunters with haunted weapons.”

Joey looked down at the machete.

The blade gave one tiny unhappy whisper.

“…I’m starting to think I’m having a very abnormal week.”