Skirmish

Protectorate Omega sprinted full speed ahead amidst the firefight, dodging bullets and flying debris. His armored boots crushed the twigs and soil underneath while his eyes remained glued at the horned enemies ahead. He studied their faces, ugly beyond understanding, their eyes were filled with malice. Their hoofed feet were facing backwards and a huge fanged mouth took up their entire chest; an unspeakable chaos made flesh. Omega felt disdain at the very existence of these Demons. He could not comprehend why they exist in the first place. In their presence, one would hear thoughts that encourages to expose himself in the face of harm.
	Omega knew that his action was the result of the Demons' whispers.
	He slammed the butt of his Blast Rifle at the face of his enemy. He leaned backwards as he prepared himself to drill the bayonet at the neck of the enemy when the tongue of the enormous mouth suddenly lapped him with a great force. Omega managed to maintain his balance. With a quick turn, he plunged the screaming blade into the neck of the Demon; the result was immediate as dark crimson blood sprayed at the faceplate of his headgear and his armor. He whirled to the nearest enemy to his right and fired four times, blue balls of sparking plasma hit the enemy in an instant, burning the tonsils of the enormous mouth.