For Blood
For Blood
"Are you sure we will be able to overtake them?" asked a worried officer.
"I'm just about as clueless as you, but, knowing the boss, if he tells us we will, then there's nothing to worry about," answered the other, a little bit of preoccupation in his voice.
Soon after the Umbrella gave way to the city to thousands of living corpses, the Army, ironically in Umbrella's charge, stood up to fight the oncoming wave of undead. They spent hours trying to take the bastards- as they would call them- down. But, to the surprise of every living thing that could see, they didn't stay on the floor, as expected. On the contraire, they'd get up and charge again with more might and determination to catch the oh-so-close pray. The living now feared Death and the dead. No human- or animal, as far as we know- would like to get turned, infected by one of those Satan's puppets. Craving flesh of the living, savoring the blood of their victims, longing for that tasteful, living meat, which was all they ever thought of.
Hundreds of living men where sent to the streets of Raccoon City to try and retrieve all the living pedestrians they could find wondering the streets for survival. To whoever didn't find such, or wasn't ordered that task, would have to be at the battle's first line of defense, which was about as strong as a fort made of twigs. They gave praise to whomever they idolized for the pursuers where slow. They took advantage of those precious ten seconds that those demons- as they would also call them- took to take a single step. While ten of them gave one step, thirty officers had already locked, loaded, shot and reloaded. As for the demons, they could care less if they where to cut their heads of. They felt and where looking for the same thing: something to eat.
Why would meat from their fellow species fill their empty dead bodies? Why do acts of cannibalism on a loved one? Why the need to feed on flesh? Why not eat each other if it's human meat what they're looking for? Why act like they act? Sadly and unfortunately, some of these questions might never be answered. They took that secret to the grave, as a figure of speech, for all they did is silence themselves.
A tumult of about twenty was closing in on the military camp. As the alarm sounded, about fifty men and women, with huge guns, came out of house-size tents. Following a bright red flare signal, they reached the outer limits of camp, where, because of potent beams of light pointing from various directions, the militaries could see the coming wave.
"Alright, my men…!" started General Tom Phillips, when he was interrupted by the clearing of a throat.
It came from Maritza Mendez, the only woman in that squad. She came from a place where the idea was that men are the strongest, workers, bringers of food, and women where just for the home and fornication. Listening to General Phillips say such a comment, she felt appalled. She decided to put the name of women high as the limit of this vast universe. And including her in the term "men" made her feel awkward and very uncomforted. So she decided to put an end to it.
"Sorry Maritza… Men and women," continued the General in a whatever-you-say-but-we-don't-have-much-time tone. "At my signal fire those slimy, dirt bags back to they hole they just crawled out from!"
They waited a good three minutes before the first of the many came into sight, thanks to the strong beams of light. Everybody's stomachs twitched as they saw them. Putrid flesh falling from them at every step, coagulated blood pouring out of holes made from previous Army encounters and a breath that stank so much that it could fumigate a whole cornfield, and rid it from its parasites, plus the corn.
"Fire!" said the General when at least five of them came into view.
Piece of cake, thought the whole squad. Fire shots emitted form a gun, but it wasn't any gun of theirs. A few nanoseconds after the sound had been produced, all the lights sized to function. They all heard the same bursting sound, so it was natural they thought someone blew them to pieces.
The squad was so perplexed by the situation; they didn't give a hoot about their predator's closing range. That's until one squad member got had a gap on his neck. After he screamed, the whole squad dispersed into the night. "Retreat!" some yelled, while other just did it. A few minutes later, the camp belonged to Death; yet another conquered spot for Satan's puppets. Nobody knew who'd fired those shots, all they knew was that they where heading for a city of death.
In the camp remained our main character. His name is, or was, Nikolas Green. He was a high school teacher in Raccoon City. He had a normal life, just like everybody else there. He got attacked in his home, they cornered him, but his dog, Grumpy, managed to distract them long enough for Nikolas to escape unharmed. As he was exiting his house, he spotted several others doing the same. A yelp of pain came from inside the house. Grumpy was no more. That's what Nikolas thought. A few minutes into his hiding-from-the-dead frenzy, he heard some panting and the sound of nails being placed on the street. He turned in hope to see his beloved pet return unharmed, but all he found was that his precious pet had been turned into one of them. The berserk animal rushed towards his master and, with a jump worthy of a champion dog, managed to take a bite at his thigh. Nikolas screamed in pain, he saw how his favorite white shirt became scarlet as the dog punctured his skin with his sharp teeth. Lucky for Nikolas, a close neighbor and friends, Tom Finning, bore a shotgun and shot the already dead dog to bits.
"Thought you could use a little help," said Tom.
And, with a smile, Nikolas and Tom headed towards the center of Raccoon City, where they heard help was waiting for them.