Aleksandra, for her part, was caught flatfooted by the unfolding calamity before her. Much as with Lucie, the hasty attempt at explanation by her fellow Ianus member did little to help. She noted however, with keen interest, the presence of everybody who had departed from the manor earlier that day on their separate  missions - as well as the unexpectedly feminine figure of the Master of the House, though any inquiry into that could certainly wait until after their painful deaths were no longer an imminent possibility. 

The flare of oil catching fire blinded her for a moment as she struggled to reorient herself back towards the looming threat, fumbling for her revolvers as the creature continued to burn. She had an inkling that she knew the line of thought behind the tactic, though she had little optimism that the flames would do little more than char the beast. Unlike works of fiction, the stitching holding the beast together would have to be of far greater complexity than provided by the kind of thread one might hold a wound closed with. Deeper under the skin, in the muscle, the real meat of the thing, there was a connection, and it mattered little how much they burned the exterior, it was difficult to kill something already dead. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Lucie sprinting off into the foliage, presumably chasing after this “She” who could not be allowed to escape. That was one loose end tied up - she had full confidence in her erstwhile companion’s ability to track down the fleeing woman, but the same could not be said for the outlook with the gigantic creature still wreaking havoc. 

She raised the pistol in her right hand, firing off three shots at the creature’s center of mass, all three rounds embedding themselves solidly in the thing’s undead flesh - but the grim satisfaction she normally would have felt at landing a hit never came, instead a sinking feeling filled her with dread as she realized that, just as fire would likely do little to the thing, a bullet would do no more - unless by some miracle she could shut off whatever malevolent, eldritch heart beat inside the abomination’s chest, or at the very least immobilize it.

A metaphorical lightbulb lit up in her mind as she finished the thought - maybe they couldn’t kill it easily, but the creature was made of human parts, surely it had at least some of the same weaknesses? Her mind flashed to the Greek mythology of times long past - the mighty Zeus himself was laid low when Typhon tore out his tendons, perhaps the same might apply here? After all, the thing could hardly chase them down if it couldn’t walk, and just shooting it in the chest wasn’t likely to do much. 

Over the din of the struggle, she yelled out to the others, “Aim for the tendons! Maybe we can’t kill it outright, but it’s not as much of a threat if it can’t walk!” She herself took aim, emptying one revolver, two of three shots missing by a hair, but the third embedding itself with a sickening noise in the thing’s calf - without missing a beat she switched to the second, firing slowly but steadily at the thing, doing her best to keep her breathing even. 

The revolver clicked as the hammer fell on an empty cylinder, half of her shots having found their marks - though to what effect she knew not, but over the deafening echo of the flurry of shots she heard something far more bone chilling - the beast had turned towards her. 

Aleksandra gulped, quickly signing the cross across her chest before throwing her guns back into their holster and bolting for it, screaming desperately in Russian at the others in the clearing, having forgotten to attempt Czech or any other languages. “Shoot it, for God’s sake! Shoot it before it rips [i]my[/i] tendons out!” 

Nearly stumbling over her feet, she drew her sword as she ran, silently muttering a stream of alternating prayers and curses under her breath. Normally, she might try to climb a tree, but with how things were going tonight, she expected that doing so would lead to the unpleasant discovery that the thing could also rip down trees if it so desired. And, while falling to her death was a more appealing option than getting caught, falling and breaking a leg only to be at the mercy of the thing as it took its time with her…

She contemplated trying to load one round into her gun, just in case she needed to speed things along, but put the thought out of her mind - better to focus on running.