Luke sprinted back toward the rear, eyes scanning the chaos behind him.
Holden had thrown every guard and the few inmates with any guts left into the front line to hold the breakout. The rear was nothing but terrified prisoners and helpless wounded, screaming and scrambling through the rubble with zero organization.
Against them, Gein moved like death itself—huge fra swinging that tiny scalpel with terrifying power and speed, slicing throats in clean, efficient strokes.
Luke didn't open fire.
Too many panicked bodies everywhere. One wild shot and he'd drop one of their own.
His gaze locked on Gein. Brain working fast.
While the killer was busy, Luke slipped around behind him.
The mont Gein lifted a wounded inmate who couldn't run, Luke exploded forward, leaped, and locked his left arm around that thick neck like a steel cable.
The impact staggered the big man for half a second.
Now!
Luke jamd the Glock against Gein's temple and fired twice.
Bang… bang…
The shots rang so loud they left his ears ringing.
Two neat holes appeared in the human-skin mask. Hot, thick liquid mixed with gray chunks sprayed across Luke's face.
Gein's massive body collapsed like a felled tree.
Luke went down with him but rolled up instantly, stomach already heaving from the stench coating his skin.
"Fuck—fuck—ugh…"
The sa guy who'd shot a madman without blinking was now gagging hard.
"What the hell was that thing on his face?!"
He wiped frantically with his sleeve and barked at a nearby prisoner frozen in shock.
"You! Get over here and check my face—any of that shit still on ?!"
The man didn't move. Just stared past Luke, finger trembling, lips barely forming words.
"You… behind you…"
A cold spike of dread shot up Luke's spine.
He spun.
Gein was moving again.
The head that had taken two point-blank rounds was twisting at an impossible angle, empty eyes fixed on Luke. Black viscous liquid—not blood—oozed from both bullet holes.
While the other prisoners scread in horror, Gein planted his hands and started pushing himself up.
"Still coming?"
Luke didn't give him the chance.
He launched a vicious kick into the supporting arm.
Thud.
Gein dropped again.
Luke followed with another kick that sent the scalpel spinning away into the rubble.
Now unard, Gein's hand went straight to his face. He felt the torn mask, panic flashing across what was left of his features. Desperate, he grabbed the ragged edges and tried to press them back together.
The fragile skin tore completely under his frantic strength.
His real face was exposed to everyone.
Gein lay there and let out a raw, soul-tearing roar.
"Ahhh!"
The sound froze the crowd. People stumbled backward in pure revulsion.
"Jesus Christ, what kind of blasphemy is this?"
"Mommy, save !"
"I swear to God—if I live through this I'll never sin again!"
Blind with rage, Gein exploded upward faster than before and charged straight at Luke.
Too fast.
Luke barely raised the gun before a freight-train impact sent him flying. The Glock skittered across the ground.
"This strength… is this even human?"
Pain exploded in his chest. Luke was stunned.
He'd thought his own superhuman physique was impressive. But an enraged Gein had just kicked it up another level.
Luke changed tactics instantly—no more brute force.
He used his superior agility, circling and dodging while Gein swung wildly. The big man's raw power couldn't match Luke's speed and footwork.
But ti was running out.
Sweat poured down Luke's body. His lungs burned. Every muscle scread.
This goddamn thing never seed to tire.
He was sure now—this wasn't a living man anymore. It was sothing else. An evil spirit wearing flesh. Blood and bone weren't what kept it moving.
New plan.
While still dodging, Luke shouted at the terrified prisoners huddled behind him.
"Stop watching the show, you assholes! Get in here! He's unard now—strength don't an shit when it's one against all of us!"
The words hit like a slap.
The inmates suddenly realized the monster was just one man. They had over a dozen. Even ants could kill an elephant.
And they had a beast of their own leading the charge.
"Yeah! He's got no weapon—I ain't scared of shit!"
"Bro, let's go! Legal murder, right here!"
Soone's shout lit the fuse.
The hardened cons surged forward as one, surrounding Gein in a swarm.
Luke saw his opening, dropped low, and tackled the legs. Gein crashed to the ground.
Fear gone, the mob descended with boots and fists. They pounded him until bones snapped and jagged white edges showed through torn flesh.
Still Gein roared and thrashed, nearly breaking free more than once.
"This thing won't fucking die?"
Luke's eyes swept the rubble and locked on a massive slab of concrete.
"Everybody clear!"
He roared, veins bulging, and heaved the heavy chunk overhead with both arms.
"Eat this!"
The crowd understood instantly and yanked Gein's head into position.
Luke slamd the slab down with everything he had.
Crunch.
The big guy's skull vanished under the concrete.
His body convulsed once—then went still.
[Police Marksmanship: 32 XP]
The notification rang in Luke's head as he gasped for air.
Even without the gun, the kill still fed the specialty.
Finally over.
He wiped his face and looked toward the front line.
Holden had the situation under control.
Most of the breakout crazies were dead.
Only a few with shattered limbs remained, writhing uselessly on the ground.
User Comments
0 comments from readers