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An explosion rocked Madison Avenue as Dowers watched a silver Durango go up in flames. Not terribly subtle, but if the Bull had been in the vehicle, he most certainly would have been dead. The Hunters' loss, his gain.
Dowers gunned the engine of the Hellbound, racing forward as owners jumped out of their cars in panic as the wreckage of the SUV slammed to the ground. A few were on the sidewalks, holding GPS's and small arms. Only a few cars were still moving, one of which had drawn the attention of a few of the armed citizens.
Dowers zeroed in on the red Ford. The Bull was already navigating his way through and around traffic. Dowers simply smashed his way through. He didn't have many hours left. He had to end this the first chance he got.
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Erik Barbarossa clawed his way from the rubble, seething through his clenched teeth. The left half of his helmet had been torn away by one of the falling beams. It could have easily crushed his head had it not hit at an angle. His body was battered and bruised, and his armor had more gaps in it than he cared to have. The weight of the skeletal structure had nearly destroyed him, but he did not die easily.
His left arm wasn't moving. He looked down and saw that it had been smashed in in several places. With an enraged growl, he reached over and tore off the offending armor, freeing his left arm that hung limply, dripping blood.
Malevolence was somewhere under the rubble. Erik didn't particularly care to look for it. All he could see through his red-filmed eyes was the girl, lying, broken and bleeding. Easy prey, prey that he had earned with his own blood. He reached down with his still-functioning arm, grabbing hold the shorn rebar that pinned his foe's arm to the ground. Planting an armored foot on her arm, he wrenched the steel from her arm, eliciting a scream of pain. He cracked his neck as he put more weight on the arm, allowing himself a bloody grin as he heard the cracks and snaps of it crushing under his weight.
"You thought you could beat me?" he laughed madly, "You, a little girl, and me, a warrior!" He knelt down beside her, letting his rancid breath wash over her bloody face.
"You...are nothing," he breathed, "A bug to be crushed, a-" He abruptly stopped as a whine in his ear grew increasingly louder, and whirled to face the sound, just in time to be blinded by the pair of adjacent headlight that announced his defeat.
The 40oz bottle shattered on his right arm as he lifted it to shield himself, but the liquid contents splashed past his guard and onto the gaps the steel and ferrocrete had caused. The burning concoction washed over him, searing his flesh and scorching his armor. He swung the steel rebar, feeling it hit something, hopefully one of the two cyclists.
Erik could dimly feel himself running, back across the street, away from victory over his foe. He couldn't control himself. Pain was taking over as his exposed flesh boiled away. Be could feel the impact as he hit a wall, crushing it, as he fell to his knees. Darkness filled his vision, as the rubble extinguished the fire, but formed his tomb, as well.