The story so far:
Near the Ashron River in Salem Oregon half submerged in the bloated flash flood waters of storm Jasper sat a single story bungalow. Its once entropy defiant form built in a time when low-bids didn’t exist; now stood dilapidated and beaten as if after having supported human life for so long it had taken our least desirable yet most fundamental trait, death…
In its dank bowels a scene of majestic brutality took place. The Herzog stood loose and ready on the sloping floor. In his right hand clutched with the murderous tenacity of a well practiced killer, a Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum Revolver. Its five pound eighteen inch, stainless steel form a work of terrible art. It looked to have been based on the most ancient of firearms yet its sleek, aerodynamic pristine form suggested it could have arrived here via flux capacitor. He stood six and a half feet tall wearing a dark non-descriptive business suit that gave him a deceptive look, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His short-cropped blond hair was matted to his scalp with the perspiration of having chased his quarry to this decrepit location.
Opposite the German killing machine frozen in resolute fear stood Jim Harris. He held an old browning 9mm handgun in a cool steady grasp that belied his quick frightened breaths. Its loose safety latch held to the off position by the tip of his thumb. His dull red flannel and old tapered Levi jeans gave him the look of a man that has lived in the seedy underworld of the city and knew all about surviving.
“So mister Harris you have, how you say, given up ze chase?” said the Herzog in a thick German accent.
“What’s the point you freaking fascist, I guess that government issued suit isn’t gonna keep you from hustling eh?”
“Not in za least mister Harris.” He said while looking at his impressive hand cannon.
“I do so love killing you Americans with your own flimsy hardware however zis little beauty is quite ze exception. I’ve shot off entire appendages with zis deadly vixen and it didn’t so much as ring my ears in ze process.” He said, appraising the deadly hardware.
Just then a loud creak issued from the moldering floorboards filling the dank space with an ominous groan. Both gun-wielding killers gritted their teeth in anticipation. A small grin escaped the Herzog’s tight-lipped mouth as he dropped into a crouch and fired three rounds into the still form of Jim Harris. Little did he know Jim was much more skittish at the moment then he could imagine and at having seen the sudden smirk rolled to the side in premature defense. This simple act of frightened need saved his life. The three large caliber rounds missed their mark and punched three clean golf ball sized holes into the wrecked sheetrock of the destroyed house.
“Impressive mister Harris, tell me, with zose cat like reflexes how did you ever manage to get yourself into such a pickle?” The German said in an attempt to draw him into dialog so as to locate him in the dark shadow filled building.
Jim said nothing knowing better. He crouched as silent as death and picked up an old G.I. Joe, a piece of debris no doubt lost in the hasty retreat of the previous inhabitants. He tossed the toy to the opposite side of the room in an attempt to divert his attackers gaze and immediately sprang out of his hiding place ready to end the nightmare. The Herzog, ever the professional knew immediately what was happening and took a step forward ready to fire. Two things happened in this instance. The large German lurched forward having his right foot plunge through the dilapidated floor just as Jim tripped over the G.I. Joes army jeep and crashed to the moist carpet. Both men having their firearms expelled towards the other as if fate decided to change things up for its own amusement. The Herzog was faster, he clutched the old browning 9mm handgun and rolled out of the hole in one swift motion while pulling the trigger no more than a few feet from Jims exposed face. Only Jims trusty handgun refused to fire in the strangers unfamilar grasp, its trick safety latch a mystery to the giant assassin. Jim casually picked up the pristine magnum and in the blink of an eye blew the top part of the Germans skull clean off…