Pinhead- Gunshots Dura

  By way of reply, Harry pulled out his gun and walked toward the Cenobite, firing as he did so. He didn’t bother wasting bullets on the torso—even minor demons could take a lot of lead and not be slowed by it. Instead he aimed for the head. If he could, he’d take out the bastard fuck’s eyes, Harry thought. He leveled the Colt, aiming as carefully as speed would allow, and fired. The bullet entered the Cenobite’s cheek an inch below the left eye, and the force of it jerked back his head. He didn’t lift it again, and this offered Harry a clear shot at the creature’s throat, which he took. It opened a hole in the middle of his throat, and air whistled out.
...
  Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that Dale was making a slow move toward the magician, apparently unnoticed. Harry felt a momentary sense of relief. And then the Priest uttered an incantation. Harry felt a stinging in his sinuses and turned to see that the Cenobite was leaking a dark, ominous ooze that was so potent it was dissolving the asphalt upon which it fell.

  The black ooze was a dark blood that ran from the wounds Harry had inflicted in the demon. The blood followed the lines of the scars on the Cenobite’s face—down, across, down, across—until the drops cascaded down his neck and forked off toward each arm.

-The Scarlet Gospel, BOOK TWO, Chapter 9