Daniel Rafatpanah thought he was going to die.

A jittery gunman was marching the 29-year-old and two of his Southeast Portland housemates upstairs to the attic, a handgun aimed at their backs.

None of them knew the man, who demanded Popsicles and alcohol before taking them hostage Monday afternoon. But when he placed the gun under his foot to change into a new pair of pants, they knew it was their only chance.

"Everything's in slow-mo, and I'm like, 'It's go time.' It's time to fight this guy," Rafatpanah said.

Jonathan Mooney, 26, bearhugged the gunman from behind.

Robert Steinfeld, 21, broke a beer bottle over his head.

And Rafatpanah started throwing punches, his hands bloodied by the shattered glass. Everyone reached for the gun as the man fell.

The man fired a shot as the struggle continued. Rafatpanah's right hand got sliced open by the gun's mechanism, and blood poured everywhere.

A neck hold wasn't working. Not knowing what else to do, Rafatpanah bit the man's ear.

"Let go of the gun, let go of the gun!" he yelled through clamped teeth.

"Let go of my ear!" the gunman responded.

The two tore apart, and Rafatpanah spat out a bean-sized piece of ear.

"I tasted the blood of my enemy in my mouth," he said. "And so at that point you realize the stakes have gone so much higher because blood is being drawn -- my blood, his blood."

Rafatpanah lunged toward the gun and wrestled it away.

He bolted out the front door into a sea of police, his arms reaching skyward with the gun, their guns pointed at him. Unsure of whether he was the suspect, officers tackled and handcuffed him.

After scuffling with the gunman for a few moments, the other two housemates also ran out. Mooney grabbed his own gun and ammo on the way so the man couldn't use them.

The housemates later learned that the man had crashed a stolen car a few blocks away and dashed through the woods to the house at the bottom of Powell Butte.

James Mitchell, 30, was in the kitchen with his 4-year-old son when the suspect knocked on a side window. The man said he had been mugged as his car was stolen and needed to call police.

Mitchell stayed inside as Steinfeld opened a porch door and spoke to the man.

"Then I heard three shots in the living room and Jonathan (Mooney) being like, 'Please -- don't -- stop,' and then a fourth one," Mitchell said. "I just grabbed my son and ran out the front door."

Mitchell called 9-1-1 and spent the next two hours hiding in a barn with police, wondering whether his friends were dead.

Tori Christensen, 19, feared the same thing as she waited at her father's house. She was attending her first day after the holidays at

when she missed a call from Steinfeld's phone. She called back after class and a strange voice answered.

It was the man. He asked Christensen when she was coming home -- the housemates thought he was looking for a getaway car. When Christensen asked who he was, his answers didn't make sense.

"He didn't say anything specifically that was terrifying but it was a weird voice," she said. "I was worried something had happened to Robert (Steinfeld) or something bad was happening."

Another housemate attending PSU had gotten a similar strange call. As the two walked to the parking lot to head home, police called Christensen.

Rafatpanah ended up with stitches on his hand, elbow and head, plus a swollen arm and many bruises, but no one was seriously hurt. Stauffer was treated for minor injuries before being jailed.

As the housemates surveyed the damage Wednesday, stepping over broken glass and looking through shattered windows at a tear gas canister still lodged in a wall, they said they were thankful.

"It's crap that it happened but as far as all the possibilities?" Christensen said. "It could have gone a great deal worse."

Christensen's 2-year-old daughter spends half the week at the house but was with her father Monday.

Mitchell said his 4-year-old, who lives with him part-time, was "really calm during the entire time and did exactly what I said."

What could have happened had the children been inside?

"I've thought about that a lot," Mitchell said. "I knew I did the right thing to get out of there."

Tear gas still hung heavy inside, and the seven housemates were staying with friends and family while they figured out their next steps.

Kelly Ball, a spokeswoman for

, said one of the city's adjusters has spoken with the property manager.

Ball couldn't comment on specifics but said a property manager involved in such a situation usually would contact the property's insurance company and handle it like "any other unforeseeable disaster."

The housemates said the house needs professional cleaning as well as repairs. Early estimates ranged between $5,000 and $15,000.

Friends and family have offered to help clean up and donated some money though an

.

"For this to happen -- for a second it kind of makes you crestfallen, but after that you realize that your friends are still here, everyone's safe, you're closer than ever, and your community is doing what they can to help you," Rafatpanah said.

Christensen said the sense of community makes their ordeal almost unbelievable.

"It's not like he busted in and locking our doors would have helped," she said. "We opened the door because we're from Portland. We help people. ... It's just so disappointing that something like this could have happened."

An orange cat named Oliver mewed from the back of a car Wednesday as the cleanup started. Oliver -- who survived the tear gas blasts with another cat, Murphy -- will stay with a friend until the house is livable again.

"I just don't know what you guys are going to do," said Christensen's mother, Karin Waller. "It's pretty dramatic, you know?"

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