Mini Hammer

Target Practice

  '...shit.'

   The word described the faces of my self and the miniature horde that concealed my living room floor. The war that had claimed my cabinet of nerdiness as its casualty, halted to a stand still as their numerous gazes stared at my form that towered over them. And I too stared at there one inch tall bodies that had come to life, confusion must have been plain on my face.

  No one moved or even breathed load enough to be heard, no one knew what to do. Minutes ticked by as I processed the reality that literal time and space had broken and the plastic models I made and cherished had become flesh and blood, with souls and wills of their own. 'This must be a dream.' I reasoned to my self trying to wrap my pitiful mind around what is happening.

  Fate seemed tired of the paused conflict and decided to take action, said action was in the form of a hell Brute launching one of its rockets. It soared through the air between us before impacting my cheek, it detonated the payload it carried and metal fragments bore into my flesh and singed my skin.

  While it was in flight all eyes were on it, then me as to see what my reaction would be. Non expected something of my size to be even scathed by such a weapon, they how ever were wrong.

Pain shot through my system and nocked me out of my shock, the pain was equivalent to getting hit in the face with a paint ball.

  'Nope definitely not a dream.' I reconciled as I felt my blood leave my cheek. My body acted on instinct as my aim landed on the demon engine that fired on me, my hand gun moved and thus its wrath was directed at the hell brute. One squeezed trigger and I let loos my first round in annoyance, in a blink the machine was utterly destroyed as the entire top half was missing.

  The round how ever was not finished as it impacted a blood letter of khorn, turning it into red mist that covered its fellow daemon kin. Internally I knew the other khorn daemons were elated to be covered in the gore of there fellow kin, which further exited them. The khorn faction snapped out of there shock and began charge in my direction, letting loose their battle cries. Craving a conflict with something of such strength was just common nature with the berserk battle starved khorn daemons and there possessed engines of war.

  Seeing the most battle thirsty faction surging forward gave the other daemons there senses back, they began to reorganize them selves and follow after the battle crazed red tide. Soon the war engines that possessed ranged weapons unleashed there first wave of anger in my direction, missiles and canon fire streaked through the air. Now that I registered that I could be hurt my body crouched behind the arm of my couch providing the majority of my body cover from the hail of hate shot at me, I steadied my nine mill and let loose two rounds at the biggest threat.

  The Brass scorpion that spewed its tide of hate received the two bullets with no attempt to dodge, the first cut a hole in its dead center while the other took its tale off. By this time the first hail of death struck the wall behind me sending dry wall dust and fragments everywhere. I adjusted my aim and brought the lord of skulls that was at the forefront of the crimson charge screeching metallic war cry, one squeeze of the trigger and the registered recoil sent the daemon engine of slaughter skipping across the living room smashing into the rear lines of khorn cultists and daemons.

  Next to the chopping block was the defiller with its auto cannon, two rounds destroyed its center mass and removed the left side legs. How ever a mauler finally adjusted its aim to me and let loose a salvo, I ducked and aimed around the side squeezing twice and cut the machine to pieces. Next I emptied the last of my magazine into every hell brute and dreadnaught I could spot, I released the empty mag from my nine mill letting it drop to the floor while reloading a fresh mag.