"GEEAHK!" a paralyzing shriek ripped through our brief moment of respite.  On one hand, if the creature was making noise, at least he hadn’t started eating old Art yet, and-
"Oh Jesus fucking CHRIST!!" came arthurs reply, at least he was conscious.  John, Cole and I moved as one quickly and silently around the barn, keeping a safe distance from it lest it lurch out and kill us somehow, only we couldn’t really tell what a truly safe distance is. One never does.
We rounded the south corner and saw Arthur, his right hand and foot bloody and mutilated, pumelling the leathery winged bat creature in the eye with his left thumb in a jerky stabbing motion. Grunting. Bloody. Determined.
  The thing seemed partially blinded, slashing wildly in the direction of Arthur, nicking him slightly or gouging hugely made no difference, he was all adrenaline now.
   Out of nowhere, John ran full on balls to the wall straight at the creature, broken paintball gun in hand, and two hand hammered the blindside of the things face with a swing unlike any I had seen.  Grace under pressure.
  Now panicked, with the muzzle of the paintball gun sticking out of its head ( the remainder of the gun being lodged inside same head), the thing started thrashing violently in a wide arc.
  "Who has the gun?" Arthur demanded "don’t let it take off!"
  I pointed and shot.  The recoil almost tore my arm off, and the noise was deafening, but the bullet passed through the wing and didn’t seem to have done any damage at all. I don’t think the creature even noticed, having bigger fish to fry.
  "Use the acid bullet, Ben!"
  "Shit!"  I opened the gun up, and put the corroded bullet in the chamber, and clicked it back shut. Great. One bullet and a joke gun. Let’s do this.
  The bang and kickback were the same, but the magic bullet sunk into the ribcage with a thud, and the creature began to boil and howl and smoke.
  The sound was deafening, and the stench was unheard of.  Unnaturally evil funk poured off the thing in waves. writhing, shrieking, deafening, and then nothing.
  More than nothing. A void.
  We all stared at the bubbling pool on the ground, silent.
  After a time, Cole asked the million dollar question: "What the fuck was that?"
  The bloody, panting caricature of Uncle Arthur stared straight into his eyes and said "Boys, there’s a few things I didn’t tell you about visiting the farm."