[spoiler]This one's a bit long. If you prefer shorter ones, just say so, and I'll keep that in mind. Also, was somewhat afraid it would be too long to post. Probably a bad sign, but oh well.[/spoiler] "Thank you video games," I chuckled under my breath, lightly tossing the flash in my hand to get a feel for the weight. I took a deep breath to ready myself. "You know what to do: take your time, aim well, don't panic. You panic, you're screwed. Make every shot count." In a sudden moment of clarity, I realized that lasbolts were much easier to track than bullets. Oh well, too late to back out now. [i]Show time[/i], I thought, pulling the pin in the flash while holding the spoon. Eyeing the distance, I took a moment to calculate my throw - math nerd, remember? - then let it fly. Bingo. I ducked back around the corner as the cultist stirred at the grenade hitting the floor - and then, with a bang, the screaming began. Nothing human should have been able to make those noises. Then again, they weren't really human anymore, were they? Shoving the half-second of thoughts away, I came around the corner in a crouch, my body still halfway behind it, before I stared firing. Blackburn had already started firing - one cultist was dead, and another joined it as I took aim and fired. The first shot rammed home in my target's torso, staggering but not quite enough to kill. A second shot fixed that problem nicely. Before too long, the ones on the edge were dead, either with smoking holes in their chests or lying in growing pools of blood. Of course, by now, the ones closest to the flash had recovered, and what did you know, they spotted me almost immediately. One of them rushed me with a crude knife, while the other three had nothing but their bare hands - or were simply in such a frenzy that they forgot they had any. Of course, Stabby took priority, and went down with a lasbolt and a few bullets. Then, I heard a sound that scared me far more than the cultists alone. "I'm out!" Shouted Blackburn. Shit. Looks like I was on my own. First one, I got lucky: the shot cored his head, and he fell with a thump. The second one, however, just kept coming, even after five shots, finally falling on the sixth. By then, however, the last one was already on me, and tackled me to the ground. I just barely managed to get my lasrifle between the two of us, and managed to hold him at away as the fücker ignore his hands completely and tried to bite me like a dog. "Could use some help over here!" I shouted over the animalistic snarls of my attacker.