You're not sure what's going on, but you know you have to stop it. You plunge headlong into the fray, grasping at the feline even as undead hands and claws grasp at you. He's there, the evil cat, chanting his tongues, just out of reach. They are tearing at you, peeling away your skin as you pull away from them, but you won't stop. Finally, as you feel the last of your strength start to leave your body, you feel his fur in your hands. You're grabbing him, but only for a moment, before Russel lashes out with his own claws, raking your eye and blinding you. You pull back instinctually, which is all the horde of undead and demons needs to subdue and finish you.