Shrapnel blasted through the thick wood Franks was using for cover. The frag was slowed, but he was close enough that some of it still tore through and injured him. The pressure wave left his ears ringing. A quick inventory confirmed blood loss, but nothing vital hit. Franks stuck his head out. The demon had gotten it far worse. The blast had flung Kurst away. The demon was sitting up, stunned, looking at his mangled hand. Most of that arm resembled hamburger more than anything else, but Kurst appeared more angry than hurt. Franks scowled. That would have turned most living things into red mush. This was going to be harder than he’d thought.

Kurst sprang up and charged. Franks hurled the table at him, but Kurst batted it aside. They went toe to toe, but where Franks had a chance before, now Kurst simply manhandled him. Even bleeding from dozens of shrapnel wounds, Kurst was still too fast. Everything Franks did was turned aside. Kicks, punches, knees, elbows, all traded so quickly it would be difficult for the human eye to track and impossible for the human body to stop, flew back and forth between them, but Franks couldn’t hurt him. Kurst is toying with me.

“Is that all?” It took everything Franks had to stay ahead of him. Within seconds, his forearms were splintered and bleeding from blocking so many impacts. His hearts were racing. Kurst’s face had stretched until it now resembled a werewolf. His grin displayed a long row of jagged teeth. “I’m only getting warmed up.”

Franks was hit on one side of the head, then the other, so hard and fast that the turn almost broke his neck. Body blows fell in such rapid succession that it felt like he was being hit with a burst from a machine gun. Then Kurst kicked his leg out from under him, but caught him by the throat before he could fall. Franks was lifted off the ground, and then Kurst swung him around. Glass shattered as they crashed through one of the growth tanks. His blood painted patterns on the floor.

Claws digging into his neck, Franks grabbed hold of Kurst’s hand and pried back a finger until it snapped.

“You think that’ll stop me?” The demon paused to hold up his other hand, showing Franks that the damage from the grenade was nearly healed. He wiggled his fingers. “I’ll just grow more.” Then he pulled Franks in, muscles tightening with energy, and then Kurst hurled him across the factory. Franks spun through the air, crashed through another growth tank, and then into the unyielding concrete of the far wall.