[Story] The Assassin Ch.3

3
"The Celands" He said, almost disgusted to utter the word "Are a group of incredibly powerful demons, who together possess the power and ability to destroy anything that stands in their path. They feel no guilt and are void of all morality, which makes them perfect for their jobs." A confused look spread over the assistants face, which had since recovered from her abash state.
"Their jobs?" She asked, enthralled. Denzel took a deep breath in.
"The Celands were created for one single cause- to find the Core Gem. Are you aware of what the Core Gem is?" He asked patiently. The assistant replied confidently and quickly.
"Yes, the Core Gem is a shard broken from the core of a now destroyed-or rather imploded-planet. No one has seen it since it landed in one of Area 51's hangars and was took by some kind of entity." She finished, looking slightly proud of herself. Denzel was impressed.
"Well done, I hadn't expected you to know that much about it. Is it part of your case study?" He questioned, and she nodded slowly.
"Thank you Mr. Avens, this has really helped" She said, standing up to leave and smiling softly. She reached out and shook his hand, before dashing off inside, pen and clipboard flailing madly.

Not long after, Denzel stood. An all consuming forest towered over him, enveloping all sounds that travelled inside it. Gorgeous flora of every species sprouted playfully from all angles, giving a great feel of peace to the area. Slowly, he made his way to the most open clearing he could find, between the trunk of a large sycamore tree and a set of creeping vines which was ensnaring what seemed to be another smaller tree.

As he entered the deadly silent forest, he was instantly taken aback by the aura of tranquillity that lingered. He inhaled and tasted the sweet, unpolluted air that his lungs had craved for years. A crystalline lake settled in the dead center of the area, the perfect centerpiece for the perfect forest. The grounds that his feet had firmly rooted themselves into were near untouched, only slightly cracked by the shallow footprints left by marauding animals. He felt himself becoming lost in a fantasy world, a world where the Celands had never existed, and where Denzel had been born into a normal life.

He was just beginning to regain his senses, when a freezing cold chill passed over him, defiling his body and leaving him with a heavily tainted feeling. He wasn't alone. A wild scream was emitted from behind, and Denzel was blasted powerfully into a nearby rock. He quickly stood, barely avoiding a stream of black energy by sheer chance. He could not see a thing, and when he finally could, he regretted it. Before him stood something that looked like a cross between a werewolf and a harpy. Loading his USP, Denzel began to move backwards, never taking his eyes from the beast. Denzel locked sights with it, and roaring demonically, it pounced.

Denzel assessed the situation. The creature, whatever the hell it was meant to be, was moving towards him at about 3 meters per second. He checked the distance between them; about 87 meters, give or take 10 centimetres. 29 seconds was all that separated him and something that looked as if it had been dragged directly from hell. These 29 seconds were the most hectic 29 seconds of his life.

Within an instant, Denzel had reached down to his waist and retrieved a blade, no longer than his forearm, with his left hand. He held it backwards with the tip aimed at the floor and the hilt protruding from between his thumb and index finger.
23 seconds.
Tightening his grip on the blade's hilt, he Nothing at alled the USP with his remaining fingers, and deepened his stance. The edge of the blade shimmered in the pulsating sunlight, accentuating the lethal spine that ran the length of the weapon.
18 seconds.
The beast snarled, baring it's mouth for the first time. Denzel counted three rows of 32 teeth, all diamond edged with a slight elevation. Perfect for tearing flesh.
12 seconds.
The rhythmical pounding of paw on earth echoed in Denzel's head. The beast was now running on all fours, it's sinewy wings slashing through the air effortlessly. Denzel raised his pistol and took aim at the area between the two heavily bloodshot eyes which were hastily approaching him.
4 seconds.
It propelled itself forwards from it's hind legs at full force, ready to bite. Denzel hammered the trigger three times, all hitting the same spot.
With no effect.

A quick and well timed dive to his left proved more successful. The beast continued on, careering into the ground, unable to defend itself from the harsh impact that befell it. The aftershock only lasted mere seconds, and by the time Denzel had readied his blade, it was back on it's feet. It lunged once again, and he swung wildly towards it. Perhaps not the most impressive move, but it got the job done; the blade seemed to make a small indentation. The beast fell, keeling over on it's ankle. Denzel smiled, but his happiness was short lived. Tripping on a thick log, he fumbled and dropped his blade. Recovering quickly, he raised his head, only to see a set of claws inches from his face.
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Just a small side note:
I'm having problems with this chapter, so bare with me on it, i'll try to add more as soon as inspiration hits me.