As ever, this human was proving far more tenacious than he had any right to be. 

The man’s bayonet scraped and cut at the back of the demon’s hand. The weapon was pushed back by the impact, forcing the human into a turn that was bound to knock him off-balance, and would have dislocated a lesser man’s shoulder.

Had Fenn managed to continue his charge uninterrupted, the man would have been surely trampled under him. However, just as the weapon was swept back in Fenn’s direction, a peculiar noise reached the demon’s ears, along with the feeling of something tapping the center of his chest.

A thunderclap followed.

Fenn rocked back, a massive impact halting his momentum and forcing him onto his rear legs.  He stumbled a step, swiftly becoming aware of a painful ringing in his years, followed by a dozen small aches across his body, where shrapnel had embedded itself between his scales. Tendrils of steam flowed from the wounds, the blood quickly evaporating as it touched the outside air.

That had been a kind of explosive, he realized, but was baffled by the idea that the human had chosen to use it in such close-quarters. He could not have been farther than four meters to cut at his claws. Had it been bravery or recklessness? Certainly, Fenn could not think of any other way the small creature could have avoided his charge at such close distances without leaving himself at his mercy than to make use of such dangerous toys.

Fenn’s eyes refocused, but the demon remained in his upright position, slightly hunched forward as he towered over the human. Steel clattered against the concrete as links of chain became unraveled.

“Such courage is wasted on your kind, Hunter,” he rumbled. “It will kill you as surely as I will.”