I Like my Hands Bloody..

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"Boss! He's coming!"

"Good. Let him."

Caleb kicked down the front door to the hotel, pitchfork in hand.

"Let's go.." He said in his dark tone.

Zombies rose from the ground, and walked towards him. They swung the axe, he stabbed with the pitchfork. Two more stabs and they fell.

"I like my hands bloody.."

He dealt with the other zombies, and looked around the lobby. He spotted his dynamite and lighter.

Running over to it, he packed his belt full of dynamite. He pulled out his lighter and a bundle.

Then he put them away. No. He couldn't cause damage to the hotel. No explosives.

He jumped over Husk's bar, and searched for something. Anything.

Nothing useful.

He walked to the elevator. The buttons had been removed from the wall. Groaning, he forced the doors open and stepped inside. The buttons on the inside were missing too.

He would have to take the stairs, wouldn't he? Tchernobog damn it.

He walked down the hall to the stairs. Opening the supply closet, he looked around the corner. A tan cultist was inside.

He ran inside and ducked down, dodging his shotgun shot. He stood up and stabbed the bastard right in the eyes. He screamed and died.

Caleb picked up his shotgun, and searched his body for any extra shells. He found 4. It would do. The barrel has one shell loaded, so he would wait to reload it.

He opened the door to the stairs. Caleb instantly shot the cultist that was behind the door. He laughed.

"That felt great!" He yelled out in joy. It had been a while. He reloaded the shotgun, and checked the cultist for any extra shells. He found 2 more, plus the 2 that were in his gun.

He walked up the stairs, stepping on a hand that tried to grab him. Successfully immobilized, he was able to shoot it.

He looked for another set of stairs to go up, but found that there weren't another set.

"Don't tell me.."

They were on the other side of the floor, weren't they?

"What a useless set of stairs! How is somebody going to escape in an emergency- oh wait we're in Hell.." He realized. Fire wouldn't be an emergency. They probably bathe in fire.

He opened the door, and again, shot a cultist that showed himself. He reloaded his gun, and stole the ammo from the body.

He looked around the corner. 3 more cultists, one gray. The gray ones had tommy guns. He could use one of those.

He jumped out of the corner and took a shot at the first cultist. He took his second shot at the gray one. Reloading, he took two more shots, one directed at the gray one and another at the one he didn't hit the first time. He reloaded once more, by not before he was hit by some tommy gun bullets, and he finished off the gray one and the first one.

He reloaded, and shot the final cultist.

He stole the gray one's tommy, and the ammo from each cultist. He walked back to the start of the hall, and opened the first door.

Shooting the one cultist inside, he looked for any sign of life.

"Charlie?" He called out. Guess she wasn't in here. But there was a Doctor's bag!

Grabbing it, he patched up his gunshot wounds. He put the remaining supplies back in the box, and saved it for later.

He left the room, and went into the next one. Two zombies arose, and he dealt with them quickly.

"Charlie?" He called out. Nothing, as he suspected.

He did this a few more times, until he got to the final door of the hallway. Opening it, he wasn't fast enough with his reflexes. A gargoyle flew at him and took him down, knocking the boom-stick out of his hands.

Caleb held it off with one arm, and reached for his gun with the other. The gargoyle pushed more on him, and it was getting harder and harder to hold him off. Straining his muscles, he stuck a finger in a barrel of the gun. He quickly pulled the finger out while applying pressure, and it moved a little closer. He did it again, and it once again got closer. It was finally in arms reach.

He grabbed the gun, and hit the gargoyle in the head with butt end. The gargoyle was stunned, and Caleb pushed it off of him. He quickly stood up.

"I'm not dead... yet."

The gargoyle growled and flew at him again.

He fired once, twice. Reload. Fire, fire. Reload. Fire, fire. Reload. Fire.

It collapsed, dead.

Caleb took a breath. That was kinda tough. But he could handle it.

He walked to the set of doors that lead to the next set of stairs.

Opening it, he shot the gray cultist that stood behind the door. He walked up the steps to the third floor.

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