The monster was shot, but his body did not slow in the slightest. He kept charging forward, swinging his long-handled scythe.
Seeing the bulk beneath his clothes, Nick could not tell whether his entire body had become covered in scales after transforming or whether he was wearing a bulletproof vest. He dared not hesitate and kept pulling the trigger.
Bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang!
Seeing that five or six shots still had not stopped his charge, Nick raised his aim and fired once into his throat and once into his left eye. The monster stopped less than two meters in front of him, then went limp and collapsed. The long-handled scythe in his hand fell to the ground with a sharp clang.
"Aunt Mary!" Nick cautiously took two steps back, let the half-empty magazine drop from his gun, and inserted a fresh one.
He switched the gun to his left hand, keeping it pointed at the motionless monster on the ground, and reached out with his right to help Aunt Mary up, only to find that her body was limp and she could muster no strength.
"Nick, Nick." Aunt Mary reached out and clutched his clothes, struggling a little to breathe. "Is he dead?"
"Yes." Nick turned to look again and found that the monster on the ground had returned to human form. He was a bald, middle-aged white man.
"This is all my fault. I'm sorry, Nick. I thought I'd lost him. They came for me." Aunt Mary's face was filled with self-reproach.
Nick held her wrist and felt the stubborn old woman's highly irregular pulse. He hurriedly reassured her in a soft voice, "Maybe it isn't what you think. Let me get you to the hospital first."
Five minutes later, Hancock arrived with police cars that had been