A brief discussion led the duo to a decision. Willie would try to see if the motorcycles could be used for evacuation.

Ashton ran to the back door and prepped the area for evacuation. It would not be long before the hooligans managed to set fire to a part of the building that would burn easily.

“It’s no good, Boss Lady.” Willie’s voice trailed off over the walkie-talkie.

“What’s no good? The bikes?” she asked him.

He called back to answer her. “Yeah, all this ice on the floor is keeping us from getting them up right. Not that any of them want to crank anyway.”

She hissed softly. The effect of her illusion would have influenced everyone within range. Out of desperation she had hit the entire store. They would be lucky to make it to the back without breaking their necks or injuring themselves.

The ice was melting, as far as the people in the store were concerned. Ashton had already stopped broadcasting her power. The only thing she could do now was send a different illusion, but it would cost her a good bit of life force and could cause problems if someone was overly influenced by the effect that she chose.

“They aren’t cranking, either?” she asked.

“No, well… thing is we can’t crank them,” replied Willie. “There’s no keys…”

Ashton snorted to herself. Either the hooligans to their keys with them, or the ones responsible for causing this monster invasion had a sick sense of humor. Vehicles that could only be ridden by the monsters that brought them were not a good thing. Though, she did briefly wonder if killing a hooligan would let someone ride its bike. Would the bikes be considered loot in that case?

“I’m heading out to distract the hooligans,” she said. “Get ready to run for it.”

Willie radioed back, “Will do. Be careful out there!”

Ashton nodded to herself then gave the backroom a quick look over. “Didn’t we get in a shipment…?”

Before she left, she quickly searched the nearby pallets then grinned. “Oh, this will do nicely!”

Ashton pulled out a large case that was wrapped in plastic, using her claws she quickly tore through the protective layer then opened one of the boxes inside of the larger box. Archers did not have much of a hunting section, mostly arrows without arrow heads and tents. However, there was one thing they did stock. Knives and machetes for hunting and camping.

She pulled out two of the large premium quality machetes they had just gotten in during the morning shipment. For most of the people in the store they would not be much of a weapon. An axe or even a metal pole would be better. Something with more reach would be preferred, ideally. However, she was experienced at using knives and short swords. Attacking quickly from concealment was one of her favorite tactics.

Ashton made several experimental cuts with her machetes then nodded. Designed similar to kukri, the blades were over a foot long, and with the handle include they measured nearly twenty inches in length. “Imagine paying eighty bucks for a fancy knife…”

Her discount loving heart would not have understood the fascination only a few weeks ago, but after living the dream for a while she understood. Quality cutlery was a wonderful thing!

She looked up toward the backroom camera. “I’m paying for these later! I swear!”

Ashton rushed out of the store just before the others reached the backroom. Slowed by the ice, they had taken their time to arrive. By the time the business fox made it to the front of the store, she had already cloaked her presence in invisibility.

“Fire it up! Fire it up!” shouted a nearby hooligan as several of his brethren hurled Molotovs toward the store. One hooligan threw his Molotov high and managed to lob it onto the roof. A merry blaze soon erupted that brightened the twilight gloom.

“That’s right brother! Whoo—Erk!” cried the hooligan from earlier, only for his words to be cut as decisively as his throat had been. He clutched at his neck as blood poured from his wound. Far too much blood in fact.

“What’s wrong?” called a nearby hooligan. “Why you blee—ach!”

“Someone’s out here!” shouted a hooligan.

“Probably that fox slut!” shouted the boss. “Take the bitch alive. I need a new pet.”

“Hey!” exclaimed his skinny ride-along.

He snorted at her. “Fine. You can play with her, too.”

Ashton came out of hiding long enough to kick one hooligan in the face then fade from sight again while she whirled in place. She went low while the mohawked man next to him tried to hit her where she had been standing before. She swept his legs out from under him then leapt atop him with both of her kukri. Her blades tore deep into his flesh, or so it seemed.

Using her illusion power to enhance her strikes, every cut seemed to be a devastating wound in the minds of the onlookers and the injured. In truth, their levels and defenses were high enough that she could only do small amounts of damage whether it was with her new toys or her claws. Her illusions were incredibly potent, however.

Blood spurted upward in a burning hot shower of crimson in the minds of those who saw the dying hooligan, though to Ashton’s eyes he had received little more than a flesh wound and a set of cracked ribs.

A Molotov was sent flying her way, but she had more than enough time to dodge. Unfortunately for the hooligans, the men that had rushed up to her were not as lucky. Several of them screamed in shock and surprise when the Molotov exploded and sent fire racing across their flesh. Ashton did not waste the opportunity. Though it took a good bit of life force, she thrust her kukri into the air and howled, “Awhoo!” The flames rose up and grew obscenely intense. The hooligans screamed again and again as the illusory fire fed into their sense of fear and pain. Several of them died of heart attacks despite the minor nature of their wounds.

Ashton performed admirably during the initial skirmishes, and several hit and run initiatives that came afterward. Aggressive, graceful, and sneaky as hell, she attacked from stealth and did everything she could to buy those people time. However, it would soon prove to not be enough to maintain her own safety.

There were too many hooligans. She was able to sew discord among them, scare a few of them to death with her illusions, and keep then focused on her. However, her life force was not inexhaustible.

She could not hold back against monsters of this level, not if she wished to do any damage. She quickly began to tire. The worst part of her situation was the fact that using her illusion power so extensively had made it so that she was running on fumes. She might collapse at any moment given her weakened state. She promised herself that she would make a run for it as soon as she knew the others were safe.

By now the survivors had made it out the back door. They ran along the back of the store toward the wood line beyond. If they could cross the woods, they would reach an open field. Beyond that was the rest of the town.

Ashton rose up from stealth and tore a cleft into a hooligan’s chin with a blurred strike of her kukri. However, when she tried to jump back and re-enter stealth mode she gasped aloud. Despite her careful strategy, the numbers were too great in favor of the hooligans. Several Molotovs exploded right behind her. Her ears were sensitive, far more sensitive than a normal human. She flinched involuntarily, and in that moment took a hard punch to the face. She was knocked to the side and she lost her balance. Her head slammed against the hood of a car on her way down to the ground.

Willie’s voice warbled over the walkie-talkie. “We made it! Get out of there!”

Her strength had fled from her in the previous moment, as she had been on the edge for a while. Her life force completely exhausted, she was subjected to the crippling weakness that accompanied such an event. She fell to her knees.

A hooligan took notice then whooped out in joy. He rushed in and punched her hard across the face. Her head snapped sideways, and she fell to the ground. Several more of the hooligans joined in quickly. Fists and feet flew as they stomped and beat her with near-insane glee.

The men laughed as they punished her stupidity. The had a merry time of it as they cried out obscenities.

“Hell yeah! Crawl bitch!” snarled a man with a bright red wound carved in the side of his face. Blood had originally poured from the cut, but after her illusions died the profuse bleeding was revealed to be a trickle.

The leader laughed and reached down to his belt buckle. “Bring her over here.”

Ashton was dragged limply across the pavement. Panting for air, and bleeding from a dozen wounds she could do nothing to defend herself. The same system that provided powers beyond mortal comprehension also had limitations. Once someone’s life force ran out, they needed to rest to recover it. If injured enough, they would not recover at all.

The leader of the group snatched Ashton’s hair and raised her limp body upward with one hand. He looked down at her, a cruel smile on his lips. “Well, look it here. Bet you thought you were gonna do something special out here, huh?”

Ashton gasped for air as blood trickled from her broken nose and split lip. Briefly, she held a look of despair but that look turned to confusion.

He undid his belt and dropped his pants. A foul odor emanated from his unwashed nether regions as his girthsome ‘rebel pride’ rose up to be recognized. “Well, bitch. You’re right. You will be doin’ something special tonight…”

Ashton barely managed to find the strength to whisper, “No.”

“How’s that?” he asked her with a laugh. He looked at his woman, and then at several of his men. “This bitch just said, no.”

They all laughed in response. The leader of the hooligans wiggled his hips. She whispered, “No.”

“Oh, yes. Bitch. It is time to pay me back for everything that’s happened.” He laughed at her again then gripped his foul-smelling man hammer in his free hand.

“Yes,” whispered Ashton hoarsely. Though, her swollen eyes were not on his manly pride and joy.

The hooligan stopped laughing long enough to stare at her. “Bitch, did you lose your mind?”

Whatever he planned to say next was interrupted when intense pain erupted from the center of his dick. He threw Ashton backwards and looked down in horror. A long metal spike had somehow appeared inside his manly bits. That pain quickly died along with all sense of feeling in his man-tackle.

“What is this?” he asked in shock. A metal spike through his dick should hurt, right? It was bleeding, but he felt nothing.

A garbled laugh warbled weakly up from the ground. He looked down at her and snarled. “This is funny to you, bitch?”

“Yes,” whispered Ashton. Her busted lips slowly quirked into a smile.

He kicked her in the mouth with his steel-toed boot. “Who’s laughing now, bitch!”

Suddenly, an ear-splitting sound pierced the twilight. A hellish cacophony akin to the cackle of a deranged hen. “Oh! Ho. Ho. Ho. Ho!”