Chapter One – Not So Friendly Encounters

The crumbling arches that opened out onto the grounds of the Spencer Mansion welcomed Richard again. He stood staring at the evening sky, stroking the stubble that coated his sharp chin. Richard was in his early thirties, but his face was more worn through years of cuts, scrapes and bruises. His figure was tall and muscular, with wide shoulders that cast an imposing shadow along the gravel path leading to the mansion. Richard worked as a security guard at the Spencer Mansion, responsible for ensuring that the side entrance was clear and that no-one could enter without permission or identification.

However, it seemed like he had spent more of his time walking through the grounds than actually doing his job. But, then again, it wasn't like Richard enjoyed being one of the few security guards on the sprawling estate. Recently, not much really happened, except the odd alarm that seemed to go off on the other side of the grounds. Richard was only supposed to stay near the mansion and was frequently told this. Several times he had tried to sneak off, just for a quick look, but it seemed that the dogs were always out. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem, but they seemed to be acting strangely. They would bark uncontrollably and chase after guards that were finishing their shift by themselves. That was why Richard was supposed to have a partner, but Steve had been feeling ill recently. Not that he complained about this; Steve could become boring after a while.

As Richard stood pressed against the wall, thumbing a coin that was left in his pocket, he could here another of the alarms wailing through the air, screaming to the researchers that there was a problem. The guards weren't supposed to interact with the researchers, but even if they wanted to, the researchers would never stop to talk. They always thought that they were too important to stop, even for a second, muttering under their breaths that "no-one understood the work that was left to be done".

It was getting late now, the air was starting to cool and the warmth of the mansion seemed to be beckoning Richard closer. With a deep sigh, Richard moved away from the wall and opened the door from the courtyard onto the mansion. This section of the mansion was usually empty but at the end of the corridor he could see a figure lurching towards the art gallery. It seemed to be rocking backwards and forwards as if drunk, not that that was surprising. Nothing much happened at the mansion and so most of the guards and staff "took to the bottle" in order to pass the time.

Richard stepped out from the cold and focused further on the figure, and it looked surprisingly like Steve. Richard supposed that Steve had been released from the medical room with nothing more than a few tablets and that he had come looking for Richard on his shift.

"Steve, is that you?" asked Richard, his gruff voice cutting through the eerie silence.

The figure seemed to move slightly, but never actually turned around fully. Richard laughed gently,

"Shit, you must be feeling bad. Maybe you should take the rest of the evening off."

Again, the figure didn't stir, but Richard wasn't as stationary. He moved towards Steve and pulled on his shoulder. The figure turned around but Richard knew instantly that it wasn't Steve, or at least not the Steve that he had grown to know over the past few months. Steve's eyes were vacant and his jaw agape, like one of those silly zombies from knock off 50's horror films. Steve's uniform was ripped at the shoulder and a deep cut was clearly visible.

"You okay, Steve?"

Swaying forward slightly forward, the look in Steve's eyes changed from vacancy to murderous rage. Lunging forward, Steve's jaws seemed to unhinge as his teeth flew at Richard's neck. Instinctively, Richard jumped backwards, banging sharply against the wall as Steve brushed past him and hit the floor sharply.

Richard bent down, "What d'ya think you're playing at? Get up!"

Offering his hand forward, Richard looked at Steve lying on the floor. As fast as he had fallen though, Steve flew at Richard again but succeeded this time in subduing his target. Richard was left incapacitated against the wall as Steve's mouth lunged towards his neck. Richard reached out and grabbed his throat. With only a few inches separating Richard's neck from Steve's drooling jaws, he thrust his arm backwards and sent Steve hurtling at the wall.

Again Steve stood, his neck crooked from the impact but this didn't stop him. Richard reached for the handgun that was stored on his waist. He had heard the other guards joking about staff that acted strange or violent, but then they disappeared and weren't seen again. Before long they were replaced and soon forgotten.

As Richard watched Steve rush towards him, his finger was placed firmly on the trigger and he showed no hesitation on using it.

"Stop right now or I'll shoot. I will. Don't push me Steve."

After a final deep breath and a sharp lunge from Steve, Richard pulled the trigger, aimed squarely at Steve's shoulder. He didn't want to kill Steve, just stop him. The shot didn't stop him though. Richard fired again, this time to the leg. Steve fell to the ground, but only for a few seconds. With a final charge, teeth bared, Steve dived at Richard as the handgun fired a final shot. The bullet penetrated Steve's forehead and flew out the back of his skull in a flurry of blood and shattered bone.

Steve dropped to his knees and fell face down; contorted and still; his spasms subdued and then, nothing. Richard lowered the gun and fell to his knees. A silent tear rolled down his cheek as he replayed the event in his mind. He could try to convince himself that it was necessary, but he knew that, to be blunt, he had just killed his friend.

Standing, Richard moved towards the door at the end of the corridor, desperate to find anyone that could help. As he opened the door, the shock of the sight made him vomit violently against the wall. There, clustered in the corridor, were two guards and a dog keeper feeding on a young intern researcher. She was lying on her back, eyes open, as if watching these monsters ripping into her stomach and tearing out her insides.

As he stood and grabbed the door, poised to close it and run, one of the guards turned and stared into Richard's eyes. He could see they too were filled with the same murderous look as Steve had. Quickly, Richard closed the door and turned to run, only to be cornered by two dogs, their jaws dripping with blood. He had never closed the door to the courtyard and they must have entered when they heard the fight between Steve and himself. Raising his gun, Richard sighed. "Shit. I think we may have a problem."