The tempo set by the machine gun grew increasingly faster. Gabe wasn’t quite at cyclic yet, but if things kept up at this rate it would be getting there. I can only imagine the stress of having to keep up that rate of fire, changing barrels, and loading new belts all by himself. Stress at that level would be sure to be tiring, assuming he wasn’t running purely on adrenaline at this point.

    Personally I was getting rather tired myself. As one of the heavy hitters with my magic, boosted by the weird environment here, Jeff was tasking me with lobbing explosions and any significant grouping of monsters. And as the night went on, the monsters got weirder, and they got stronger. For a few of them, it took more than a few hits to completely take them out.

    We managed to avoid having anything get close to us, since the time that entity rushed past everyone else and attacked me, but we’ve had a few close calls. Gabe had to beat a giant wolf-looking thing to death with his e-tool, since it had managed to sneak up on him. And then there was Smith.

    He was currently sitting off to the side by the campfire with an AR propped up on the back of someone's chair, taking the occasional pot shot and looking pissed. The demon that had attacked us last time had broken his left arm, which was now splinted and tied up in a sling made from an Israeli bandage. Every time a monster entered his sights he’d let off a three-round burst, cursing under his breath. Did I mention he looked pissed? Yeah, he really wasn’t happy about getting his arm broken.

    I would almost feel sorry for anything that found its way into his sights. Despite all his awkwardness, and despite apparently being affiliated with what is the all-time nerdiest of 3-letters, he sure could shoot. And despite his very visible anger, and despite his broken arm, he still managed to smoothly put down any monster that got past our initial defenses we had set up. He was pissed off and injured, but he’d be alright.

    And Liah… She seemed kind of worried. The appearance of that...demon? It really seemed to shake her. I could feel her concern through our bond. Worse than regular anxieties, it seemed like she was doubtful we could even win. Liah was working on suppressing this doubt, but it still leaked through our connection like moisture seeping into an old house. Wordlessly, I gave her a quick hug, but that did little to lift her spirits. It did, however, earn us a dirty look from Smith.

    “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

    “That demon-like thing from earlier… I’m worried it will come back.” A slight waver was in her voice.

    “So what if it does? I can just shoot it again.” It had been easy enough the last time, I’m sure I could do it again.

    “I’m not… I don’t know. It’s just that I feel something, gathering off in the trees. Last time it caught us off guard, but it also seemed off-guard by my ability to bind it. Next time, It’s likely to be a bit more prepared.” She spoke hesitantly, picking her words carefully.

    “Any idea why it’s doing that?” Targeted malice does seem a bit more worrying than random monsters attacking our group.

    “You heard what it said. It seemed to be going after witches specifically.” That part in particular seemed to bother her. “It’s not of this world. It’s dangerous.”

    “We’re surrounded by monsters already.” I explained.

    “No, I mean it’s not of this world. It’s as if it took advantage of the tear in the fabric between world to come after you in particular. That’s what has me worried.” She bit her lip. This was concerning. I’ve seen her get angry at me, pouty, and a host of other emotions, but this level of worry was new.

    A call went out over the radio from Jeff, and I responded by lobbing another explosion towards the target he designated. Then I faced the bigger issue, the doubts Liah seemed gripped with.

    “Look, regardless of what’s after us, we’re surrounded by a strong, albeit weirdly composed, team of the most competent random strangers from the internet. Either by chance or fate we’re more set to deal with any random hordes of demons than any other group out there that I can think of. One or two ominous, dark entities who aren’t even bulletproof are not likely to hurt us. If there’s more of them, we just need to shoot those ones too.” I explained calmly.

    Liah let out a giggle at this. “Aren’t you supposed to be a witch? And your solution is just to shoot it?”

    “Magic is great and all, but it’s really kind of hard to top a gun. Besides, have you looked at the sky? We only need to last about ten or twenty more minutes before dawn comes and, as you theorized, we’ll end up back in our world. I wouldn’t worry about it.” As I reassured her, I realized I may have accidentally set a flag. Cursing under my breath, I checked my guns to make sure they were ready.

    “All that effort trying to cheer me up… you know saying stuff like ‘I wouldn’t worry about it’ is sure to set something in motion.” Liah chided. As if they had heard us, the roars of the monsters surrounding us grew louder.

    “It just slipped out. Look at the bright side, it’s not nearly as bad of a flag as ‘after this, if we make it through it all, let's get married!’” Gabes machine gun fire actually was reaching the point of firing cyclic now, with no regard towards the barrel overheating or ammo conservation. Fuck, whatever’s out there must be bad.

    “We’re already married, thank goodness we don’t need to worry about setting off that flag.” Just then, the radio crackled and Jeff’s voice rang out.

    “Amy, you’re gonna want to brace yourself. Five of those weird shadow things from earlier managed to get past Gabe.” His voice was filled with urgency.

    “On it.” I replied, grabbing the Winchester. Sure enough, I could feel as much as see the shadowy figures approaching.

    They seemed to flit among the shadows between the trees, making it hard to get a clear enough shot. As they neared, a voice sounding like the roar of a foundry furnace rang out. Your soul is ours, witch. Don’t think you can use the Lesser Key so much and not expect to pay your dues.

    Now that part just confused me. I haven’t used any sort of lesser key. I did want to get one of those Master Key’s, the shotgun barrel thingy mounted on a rail for opening doors and stuff, but that’s a completely different issue. Unless… could they be referencing the Lesser Key of Solomon? Yeah, I think they might have me mistaken for someone else. Dammit, whoever this demon-using witch was that they’ve mistaken me for, I hope she stubs her toe or something. She must be a complete bitch.

    As the shadows approached, Liah jumped out in front of me, morphing into her cat form. Hissing at the demons, she let out a “Mrowl” and called out. You aren’t going to lay a single claw on Amy! She hissed, and this seemed to stop the entities, freezing them in place. Through our bond I could feel a sense of heavy exertion from Amy, but she stood strong. Well, it’d be rather shitty of me to let my wife do all the hard work.

    In a flash I raised the barrel of my Winchester. I had put a lot of work into this ‘73, stoning all the surfaces to a mirror finish. I never thought I’d ever use it for more than ringing steel though. Five shots rang out, one after another. The lever moved like glass against glass, and the recoil of the black powder loaded .44-40 rounds felt almost negligible. 

Before the third spent cartridge even hit the forest floor, the final bullet hit home on the demons. And as the last piece of spent brass left the gun, the glint of dawn could be seen shining off of it, and the forest quieted. Wow. That was anticlimactic.

    Hesitantly, Gabe shouted out. “Is it over?”

    Dammit. Another fucking flag.

    “No more monsters, but… oh god...” Jeff said over the radio.

    “What is it?”

    “Those shadow things… A mile out. There’s like a whole fucking legion of them.” Jeff seemed shaken.

    Jeff was shaken. Smith, however, let out a grin. He pulled out a DAGR, a military-issued GPS, and checked our location.

    “Hell yeah, back in the real world.” Then, he began messing with his radio.

    “Any station, any station, this is DungeonMaster, radio check, over.”

    “DungeonMaster, this is Zeus with the 111th Attack Wing of the PA ANG, we read you lima charlie. over.”

    Smith seemed absolutely thrilled by this development, before a quick look of panic played across his face.

    “Uhh… you’ll have to forgive me for forgetting the proper way to do this. There’s a big group of...things about a mile northwest of our position. Do you think you could like, blow them up for us? I’m non-JTAC. Over.” Smith looked oddly satisfied with himself, as if he had solved the previous issue.

    “Well no shit, I don’t think I’ve heard anyone call in an airstrike that half-assed. I know you secret squirrel types do things differently but damn. Over.”

    As the voice over the radio lost all semblance of professionalism, the roar of a jet engine could be heard approaching. It grew louder and louder, until one of the ugliest planes in the US Air Force flew over. Well, ugly but at the same time beautiful. Its blocky shape was less an elegant fighter, and more of a flying tank built around a monster of a canon. After being so mired in fighting monsters using magic, I did not expect to see an A-10 Warthog flying over.

    “Guns guns guns.”

    BRRRT

    A noise like the heavens opening up rang out, and the plane seemed to almost stall in the air from the recoil as tracers lanced out towards the target, out of eyesight from our current position. I never, in my entire time working for the government, though my job as an archivist would lead to me seeing a Warthog doing a gun run on demons on US soil

    “Neat.” I said.