KILLJOY

Chapter 18: Knife to a Gun Fight

The masked man stood ominously in front of him as they stared down in the middle of the empty hall. This little performance was probably about to become a shit show soon depending on what these guys were planning, but he wasn't really opposed to getting some work done today. As he held his blade out on the defensive, the man suddenly raised a hand out in front of him, as an old western-style revolver formed in his hand. He just sighed as he stared down the barrel, keeping an eye on the trigger so he could avoid the bullet.
He took a cautious step with his blade held close as he saw his finger begin to move. He quickly dove to the side as the bullet flew right past his shoulder, barely missing. He got up quickly, managing to take another step forwards before he saw the trigger get pulled again. He prepared to dive again, but all he could hear was a...

Click.

A blank round? How many blanks were in that barrel? There were at most four real bullets left in the chamber before it needed reloading, but could there be less? Of course it would be stupid to rush blindly towards the barrel of a gun without knowing if it was safe, so he had to figure out just how many blanks were in the chamber before he could approach safely. He held up one of his hands as a few small daggers formed in front of him. He couldn't afford to lose a ton of distance here, so he would rather be able to block the bullets than have to back off. He kept his eyes on the trigger as he saw their finger move once again. He quickly glanced at where the barrel was pointing before darting two of his daggers in front of where he was aiming for, crossing their blades as the bullet fired. He managed to keep the bullet from piercing him, however the dagger that was in front shattered from taking too much force. He quickly formed another one in its place, keeping his gaze fixed on the revolver as he prepared for a long fight.

Click.

He flinched as he heard the mechanism click again, but he was glad that it did. The more blanks there were, the better chances he had that at least one would be a blank the last round before they had to reload. And once he had that opening, he'd end this fight fast, and figure out where the others went. He just had to survive until the next round came—

Click.

A third blank sounded through the hallway as Max flinched once again. If that was a real bullet he probably would have gotten shot while he was stuck in his head. He put his focus back on the gun's trigger as the final shot rang out, barely getting his daggers in front of his leg before the bullet hit him, as he had to reform yet another shattered dagger. He glared at the masked man as he held a hand out, six bullets forming in it as he started to reload the gun. He threw a dagger at the man as they ducked out of the way, back against the right wall as they kept loading bullets into the chamber one by one. He had to guess that some of the bullets simply disappeared once he finished loading, else there wouldn't be any blanks in the chamber. They aimed at him once again after they finished loading, pulling the trigger as he prepared to block once again.

Click.

Shot after shot was fired over the course of about a minute, and as he began to tire out from continuing to replenish his defense, he kept counting the shots, and more importantly, the blanks. Shot 2, Live. Shot 3, Live. Shot 4, Live. There was his opening, two blanks and a reload, as he began to sprint towards the masked man, he pulled the trigger again.
He barely had enough time to bring out a single dagger as he didn't hear a click sound, only managing to change the trajectory of the bullet midair as it grazed his forearm. He felt a sudden stabbing pain in his arm as a trickle of blood soaked his sleeve. He decided to keep rushing down. He couldn't afford to wait for another opening. And as he rushed towards them again, the sound he was waiting for finally sounded.

Click.

He was going to show this masked psycho hell for managing to hit him with that cheap shot.