The chair hit George squarely in the chest, making an unpleasant crunching sound that was accompanied by a fresh wave of pain. Lying on the ground, he wondered how many of his ribs were actually unbroken after that. Still, though, Sonneillon had a knife sticking out of his back, and George could still use his legs.
Panting, George hauled himself to his feet, every movement hurting. He could get through it. He'd fought his way through scores of people while overheating and bleeding and missing body parts, and damned if he couldn't fight one demon. He threw himself towards Sonny, who was already staggering towards him, and they both tumbled backwards, clawing at each other.
The spot where they finally landed only gave one loud creak by way of warning, and suddenly ten feet of the floor just collapsed under them, sending them both slamming into the dirty concrete of the basement in a hail of wood.