Page 369 -- XLIII.

Chapter Forty-Three: ‘O, creator and destroyer...!’
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Through the scope of his rifle, Colt saw the creature turn to look directly at him, as if the distance made no difference. He didn’t hesitate to continue firing, but Stoker was moving far too quickly to track with the zoom on the lens, so Colt stood up from his rooftop perch and prepared for its arrival.

It didn’t take long.

Colt unloaded his handgun, and even at close range, Stoker dodged every last bullet and tackled Colt through a brick chimney. They rolled off the roof together, Stoker biting bloodily into Colt’s arm. The pain was non-existent of course, so he tried to bash the thing’s skull in with the butt of his gun, but that too proved fruitless. Stoker’s head bobbed out of the way of each strike, returning only to rip another chunk of flesh out of Colt’s neck or shoulder or chin. And Colt soon grew irritated enough to change tactics.

He resorted to a grapple hold, repositioning himself to its side and wrapping his half-eaten arm around its neck. The enhanced strength coursed through his body, and Colt yanked. But Stoker’s neck resisted and, in fact, turned the other direction to look at Colt. It gnashed at him, perhaps trying to bite his nose off. Colt buried a thumb into Stoker’s eye socket, jamming and twisting enough to make blood spurt out.

Liquid hydrogen replaced the creature’s face, and Colt’s hand froze instantly. Stoker bit into the icy flesh and shattered it, and Colt could see Stoker’s skull through missing flesh and eyes. No doubt, it had blinded itself, but its hand still found Colt’s cranium. He could feel the force of its grip beginning to crack his own skull.

Metal gathered over Stoker’s face and body, courtesy of a still-distant Hector. Stoker thrashed free of the iron, but it had been slowed enough for Colt to land a quick punch, throwing the beast off of him.