DICO – Bleeding Out Part 4

Mayor Poopenmeyer heard the sound of a fresh magazine being put into Jefferey’s  gun. It was the last thing he heard before the room turned black. Everything around him swam as his body desperately clung to life.

DICO wanted to bandage the mayor’s wounds a little more, but he knew he didn’t have time. If he didn’t take care of Jefferey now, then him and the mayor would both be dead. His only chance was to go on the offensive to end this situation as soon as possible. That was the only way there was a chance that everyone would walk out of this alive. 

Looking over the door, DICO hoped that it swung both ways. He was severely disappointed to learn that it didn’t. It only opened towards him. That didn’t leave him with any good options. 

The superhero crept close to the door. His shoe, which had a little of the mayor’s blood on it, squeaked when he got a few feet away from it. A new barrage of bullets hit the door. This time, whether it was from Jefferey moving closer ir the different angle of entry, some of the bullets began making it through the door. DICO swore. Not only was he in more danger now, but the mayor could now be shot again by one of these random projectiles. 

He had to do something, and he was obviously not strong enough to throw his nipples through the door. Taking a quick glance around the office they were hiding in, DICO didn’t see anything he could use to help his situation. If he was going to get out of this mess, he’d have to use his nipples to do it. Since it had been a while since they let him down, he felt slightly better about his chances.

With a swift twist, he pulled off both of his nipples. Clenching his fist around them, it didn’t feel as solid as he would’ve liked. He had to wait until they grew back so he could use a couple more. While he was waiting, another small group of shots were fired into the door. Thankfully, none of them hit the mayor. From out in the hallway, Jefferey’s voice drifted in through the holes in the door. 

“You can still walk away from this, DICO,” the shooter began. “All I want is the mayor. If you let me have him, you’re free to go.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Jefferey’s offer was very tempting. Mayor Poopenmeyer was corrupt. He had to blackmail his way into becoming the city’s superhero. The mayor openly talked about taking bribes from bad guys. Maybe the city was better off without him.

No, he shook his head vehemently. No matter what someone was guilty of,  he would never let anyone just die. Not if he could help it.

“No thanks,” DICO retorted. “If I walk away now, I  won’t get to kick your ass.”

More shots immediately came through the door. While Jefferey was shooting, DICO pulled off two more of his metallic nipples. Once more clenching them in a tightly closed fist, he tested it out by softly punching his open hand. It felt better. It wouldn’t be as good as brass knuckles, but it would have about the same effect as a roll of quarters. As soon as the bullets stopped , DICO jumped to the opposite side of the door, where the door knob was. Upon hearing the movement, Jefferey fired again.

The metallic click of the magazine disengaging told DICO that his moment had come. He opened the door, stepped out, and launched his fist at Jefferey’s face. Distracted by the reload, The Boss’ henchman wasn’t able to react fast enough. The punch hit him in the forehead, right above his nose. DICO’s fingers had developed thick calluses from years spent playing with his nipples. Even so, the force of the blow sent the sharp edges of his areolas dug into his hands, drawing blood.
His strike had the desired effect, however, as Jefferey went stumbling backwards, smacking the back of his head against the wall and sliding into a sitting position. Before his opponent could recover, DICO lurched forward and kneed him in the side of the head. After the sickening thump of Jefferey’s skull being slammed between a wall and a knee, the man fell face first onto the floor. DICO grabbed the gun that he had dropped and quickly went back into the office to check on the mayor. 

Voices coming from a police band radio told him that help was just around the corner. “DICO,” someone hollered. 

“Down here,” he shouted back. 

“What’s the situation?”

“The shooter is down. I’m ok.”

“What about the mayor,” the officer asked, finally coming into view.

With one hand on the mayor’s neck, searching for a pulse, and the other hovering over his mouth, feeling for breath,  DICO silently cursed. His chin fell to his chest. “I was too late,” DICO sighed. “He’s gone.”

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