The ghost suddenly materialized beside him and Sam darted out from his hiding spot, making a mad dash for his gun. Another blast was directed toward him, so he ducked to the side, only just avoiding that attack as well. Throwing an arm out, he focused on the weapon and it began to shake violently. From behind him, the ghost let out an angry sort of howl. She knew that he was fighting her and it pissed her off. Good. Focusing every ounce of strength that he had on getting that gun out of the ghosts possession, Sam forced the weapon down onto the ground and it clattered against the flooring. Then with another urge, it was back up in the air again and eventually in his arms.
Unfortunately, doing all of that required a fair amount of distraction. So he didn't notice the small group of steak knives that were hurtling their way toward him until after one of them struck him along the same shoulder that had been bruised by the hit he had taken earlier. Shoulder yanking backward in response, he staggered back and fell, the process being more than responsible for his sudden avoidance of the fleet of knives that the ghost had sent at him. They slammed into the wall behind him, burying themselves into the wood.
The ghost had flickered to life just over him now and her bloody hands were moving toward his neck yet again. Sam didn't give her the chance to reach it this time. He reared his gun around and fired into her gut, causing her to vanish all over again. Dropping the gun to his side, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around the knife, which was sticking out of his shoulder. Grunting in pain, he quickly tugged the object out and threw it onto the ground beside him. Without bothering to get up, he turned his head and looked in Heather's direction.
The spider creature was down. That was good.
"That's one pissed off spirit," Sam commented, slowly moving back onto his feet.