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Charlie's Demon caught him near the midsection; leaves and sharp branches grazed Charlie's back through his shirt as he flew. The Demon immediately carried Charlie into a brutal drop, forcing him into a crushing concrete belly-flop. Blood escaped from his mouth in the impact, but Charlie wiped his lip and let his Demon know he didn't care if there was more where that came from; he wanted it to hurt, just so he could swing a few hits back and get mad. And it did hurt, as it always did, and it hurt even more when his Demon wrenched him upright from behind. Charlie was able to turn in the coil as he shot toward his foe and aimed a charging finger gun right below their emblem, but when he fired and the blast hit his Demon's body, it fizzled out like nothing. He wasn't surprised; Charlie's Demon was like an overpowered boss in a video game never designed to be beaten, and that was just how things worked for years now. The Demon swung a punch at Charlie so hard that the upswing reached for the nonexistent stars; Charlie felt like he'd been clocked by a brick, and now the taste of iron and rawness on the inside of his cheeks was prevailing. As Charlie lost his balance from the force of the blow and fell, the tail around his chest swept him upward on his stomach and underneath his Demon's fists; they were joined, like it was holding a hammer. The Demon brought both its fists down on the centerof Charlie's spine and, at the same time, released its hold on Charlie's midsection, pounding him against the concrete again with a shorter fall. Charlie had the wind knocked out of him, but it was caught by consistently clenched teeth, and he could feel his ribcage compress upon landing. |