With a rifle in hand, he dispatched on tan after another.
But no matter his effort, it all seemed in vain as more kept appearing, replacing the comrades lost.
That, and the fact that his soldiers were being grinded down to nothing.
And to make matters worse, he was missing two officers.
Flynn was missing and Sayke...
Well, there was a reason they had made it this far.
This is absolute dogshit. The situation he was in was absolute dogshit.
Bell cursed within his heart but who could blame him.
He was dealt a terrible hand and was forced to play it.
And at this stage in the battle, there was nothing more he could do.
The greens position had fallen back several times already.
They were currently the farthest back they could manage within the room.
But they still hadn't lost hope.
Not to win.
But to survive.
Although the tans threatened to squish them against their body's and the wall their backs were facing, their spirit hadn't been extinguished.
And there was a reason.
There was still "that".
Bell's contingency plan.
Something that involved the swiveling glass window that brought light into the attic.
Their only problem was that they hadn't managed to open it just yet.
And those he sent to do so kept being called back to add to their numbers, slowing their progress.
But the good news was that there was progress being made and that it started to budge.
This reinvigorated everyone.
They still had hope.
They simply just needed to buy more time.
But that was easier said than done...
Bell looked to his left and to his right and quickly did the math.
He had thirty total.
Their thirty men to hold off the fans long enough for the window to be opened.
Thirty men to break themselves against this impossible foe.
Thirty men to fight with.
And thirty men to die with.
In this stressful situation, he gave them some words.
"COME ON BOYS, SHOW THEM YOUR TEETH!"
"YESSIR!"
It wasn't much but they all cried out at the same time. With injury ridden bodies they bared their teeth and shot into the tan waves. Many tans lost their lives but greens were killed in the process as well.
One could consider this a stalemate...
If they had no brain.
The greens were essentially bleeding out, ever so slowly. But eventually, they'd die.
The only thing that had been keeping complete annihilation away was the chokepoint their defensive positions had been constructed around.
And just as the tans were beginning to break through, they stopped advancing and even began to retreat.
This boggled everyone's mind and as Bell looked around confused, his danger sense tingled to the extreme.
He then looked up.
And saw it.
Or, them.
"MORTARS GE-"
But it was too late, and he couldn't finish what he was saying.
One landed right onto his position and he was blown away towards the back, injuring his chest.
Many weren't so lucky.
Bell quickly recovered and watched as bits and pieces of his men rained down.
Mortar fire continued to bombard his forces, upping the casualties even further.
And Bell couldn't do anything but try and breathe.
It felt like his chest had nearly caved in.
He could barely get a breath in.
And when the rain of hell was finally over?
Their defensive line no longer existed.
What replaced it was splinters of wood and pieces of corpses.
Failing to get a breath on, Bell, on his back, moved his head as far as he could, trying to get a better view of things.
What he saw heartbreaking.
Less than quarter.
Less than a quarter of his men were alive.
None among that number could even fight.
This was it.
And the tans knew that.
They rushed in and arrived at their position.
Bell fought against the pain and dragged his body to a wall that he quickly propped himself against.
Taking out his pistol, he watched as the tan forces rushed in.
And as they drew nearer, Bell became more certain of his aim and fired into the oncoming wave.
He emptied the magazine, replaced it, and emptied it again.
A few tans were caught off guard and were killed.
But it wasn't much.
And as he was loading in a new magazine, a shot landed right into his gut.
It knocked the air out of him and his head sagged as he tried to collect his thoughts.
Through the pain, he brought his head up but was appalled to find something waiting for him.
A gun.
And behind that gun was a tan.
They had a mischievous smile.
And Bell couldn't do anything about it.
They squatted down so that they were at eye level with bell, their smile never leaving their face.
They stayed like that for a few moments, a word never leaving their mouth.
Their gun trained in Bell's head the entire time.
And then they put it away.
And brought out a grenade.
Their smile grew wider.
And Bell's eyes widened as well, but for a different reason.
Realization started to hit him as the tan extended their arm towards his face.
Their hands quickly found and his face, and then they were near his mouth.
When they first made contact, a sort of shock went through him and his eyes focused.
A killer instinct had surfaced.
As the fingers went into his mouth, Bell quickly took action and attempted to bite down on them.
But he was too slow.
And he had given the tan a window.
His mouth was then pried open, no matter how hard he tried to keep his jaw clamped.
And then the grenade was popped right in there.
The surface was rough against the rough of his mouth.
And with that feeling came resignation.
He had failed.
He had failed to keep his company safe.
Failed to defeat the tans.
And even failed at the final juncture, to buy enough time.
This was it.
Bell closed his eyes as emotion welled up within his broken body.
The tan saw this and delighted even further.
They brought their finger and loosely hooked it around the grenade pin.
Bell felt it as tension was produced.
The anticipation began gnawing at him as it was a slow process.
Eventually, the pin grew taut, but there wasn't enough resistance in his mouth.
So it was dragged along.
Over his tongue, under the roof of his mouth.
And to his teeth.
That's when it stopped.
The tan brought their other hand to his jaw, forcefully lifting up his head so that the top touched the wall.
He had clamped Bells jaw.
At this point in time, Bell just wanted to die.
Just kill me already you bastard.
Was his thought when he heard a bang.
He opened his eyes just in time to see a corpse drop and a pin fall with it.
Quickly reacting, he twisted his head and much as he could and then twisted it the other way, spitting out the grenade.
It landed not too far away but it was enough.
And just as it exploded, a hail of gunfire came upon the stunned tans.
*DU-DU-DU-DU-DU*
The tans were quickly shredded.
And then a voice from somewhere unknown yelled out...
"GET SOME!"
!?!
BLOOMHOUSE!?!!?
The voice was familiar and he recognized it instantly.
Was was there still a chance?
He could only hope.