Butcher's Bill 1.1

Behind me, Rachel released her dogs, thousands of pounds of snarling muscle bearing straight for her. Butcher charged forwards, holding her gatling gun like an oversized club, and for a second I saw my own inevitable death, my skull about to be crushed by a thousand-pound hunk of metal swung with superhuman strength.

[...]

When she looked up, I could see that her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was puffy and swollen. Spit still frothed her mouth, but rather than being contorted in rage her mouth was open to try and take in as much air as possible.

Shit. She wasn't flinching because she had a phobia. She was flinching because she has an ALLERGY! And I just stung her in her airways more times than any normal insect swarm would sting her!

[...]

I was halfway to injecting her with it when Bentley and the other dogs ran past me and bowled Butcher over, worrying and tearing at her arms and legs and dragging her further away from our lines, further away from me.

[...]

Seeing Butcher being literally dog-piled, the Teeth burst into action.

[...]

Butcher was dying. And when she did, I was going to have killed her.