–Start Story–

It was a chaotic scene, in Area 51. Four men stood on a large, flashing blue pad, under an old hangar, as a hoard of undead and fiery dogs rushed them. Each man held a weapon, and were firing into the oncoming hoard. The first man was a muscular warrior, a man by the name of Tank Dempsey, and was dressed in a greenish-tan outfit, with long pants and short sleeves. His blond hair was cut short, almost in a crew cut. He held a large light machine-gun, and was firing energized bullets into the zombies charging him, the terrifyingly powerful rounds tearing into the undead, shredding rotting flesh and bone. An inscription on the side of the gun revealed it as the H115 Oscillator. Dempsey's face was twisted into a vicious grin, the love of carnage and slaughter clear upon his face.

"Die freakbags!" the former Marine screamed, turning his weapon on a Hellhound that was leaping at him, seeking to tear out his throat. The bullets tore through the beast, punching straight through its fiery flesh, and the beast exploded with a blast of flame, its internal chemistry set off by the bullets tearing it to shreds.

Next to Dempsey was a somewhat large man, wearing a tan, long sleeved shirt and striped pants, and dark boots. His head was covered by a green and black piece of cloth. The man reeked of vodka, and his eyes burned with an intense hatred of all things living and dead. This man was called Nikolai Belinski. He wielded two guns, each with a strange, widened barrel. One gun was red, and the other blue. These weapons were the pieces of the odd device known as the Wave Gun. Each fired a strange beam into the hoards, and each zombie struck quickly began to bleed from every orifice, before their tongues and eyes exploded, and the zombie died. Another odd weapon, a red gun with a long, thin barrel, ending in a small, closed tip, rested at Nikolai's hip. Rings circled the barrel, and a thin rod with a cross hair provided the sights for the weapon.

"Fuck you, hellpigs!" Nikolai snarled, firing beam after beam into the massive hoard, but for all the zombies he killed, it seemed that two more replaced each one.

Just to the left of Nikolai was an Asian man, fit and wearing a tan coat and black pants. In his hands he held a small, black sub-machine gun with a long, thin magazine. An inscription on the side read 'MP115 Kollider'. This warrior was called Takeo Masaki. He was firing into the hoard as well, bullets punching through the heads of his foes. Finally, as his magazine ran dry, he lashed out with the massive blade at his hip, a blade all of his allies carried, almost the size of a machete. The blade flashed in the sun, just before it was coated in the blood of the dead and damned. His strikes were swift and skillful, each one a killing blow, but it seemed useless. For all his might, the Japanese warrior was far outmatched by the sheer numbers of his enemies.

Beside him stood a a tall, thin man, a man who was laughing with hysterical joy. The man wore a tan-green Nazi uniform, and held a large, strange looking weapon. It was almost golden in color, and its long barrel ended in a thin tip, surrounded by long metal rods, hooked in towards the tip. The weapon was rifle-shaped, though it lacked any apparent magazine. Three lightbulb-like attachments glowed on its side, though as the man fired the weapon, one of the lights faded and went dark. As the man pulled the trigger of the weapon, a bright blast of lightning exploded from the weapon's tip, arcing into the closest zombie, and from that creature to the next, and the next, until a sizable dent had been placed in the hoard. Inscribed on the side of the weapon was the name 'Wunderwaffe-DG2'. At the man hip sat a red gun, similar to Nikolai's gun, but an inscription on the side classified it as the 'Porter's X2'. An expression of twisted, terrible delight covered the thin, cruel face of the monster known as Edward Rictofen.

It was Edward Rictofen that was behind most of the group's misery. It was Edward Rictofen, obsessed with the powers of the mysterious Element 115, that had been driven to madness by his accidental transport to the moon, so long ago, and his exposure to vast amounts of 115. It was Edward Rictofen that had designed the DG-2 he now wielded, the weapon powered by the same twisted element that had so shattered him. It was Rictofen's allies that had designed the other so called 'Wonder Weapons', weapons powered by Element 115. The Ray Gun, and the next version up, the Porter's X2. The Thunder Gun, the 31-79 JGb-215, the strange gun known as the VR-11, the Winter's Howl, the Wave Gun and its component parts, the dual Zap Guns. The grenades Rictofen now wielded, known as the Q.E.D., or the Quantum Entanglement Device, the Gersch Device, the sentient Monkey Bombs, and the explosive Matryoshka Dolls. All of these devices were powered by the same element: Element 115. The same element which gave the four men their extraordinary resilience.

The same element Rictofen would use to doom them all, if his plan succeeded.

It was because of Rictofen, because of one man, that the group had found themselves in this dire situation at all. This man's, this monster's scheming had taken them from abandoned theaters, to old insane asylums, to the future Siberia, to ancient temples, and to where they were retreating to now: the Moon. Rictofen's terrible desire, the desire to control the millions of zombies now roaming the Earth and Moon, had carried his unknowing allies through hell and back. Only now, however, with his final victory close at hand, were his allies beginning to suspect his true goals. But they had all come to far to simply abandon Rictofen. And besides, they needed him. He was the only one who knew anything about the true origins of the undead hoard.

"Die, minions!" Rictofen howled, his high-pitched voice holding a heavy German accent. As he fired his lightning gun, Nikolai fired his own dual weapons. At that exact moment, however, with a hum and a flash of energy, the teleporter activated. Instead of instantaneous transport to the Moon, their destination, though, an extended feeling of rushing movement and a terrifying sensation of an incomprehensible amount of time passing them by overwhelmed them. Slowly, they felt themselves being pried apart from each other, the presence of their allies fading and becoming nothing, until, at last, they were each rushing through time and space, completely and utterly alone.

–Scene Break–

It was both terrifying and exhilarating at once, Tank Dempsey felt, this sense of rushing movement and time. Way better than those mine carts. He felt like he was on the world's most awesome roller coaster. After what felt like forever, though, it ended. Suddenly his world went from rushing purple and black lightning to blindingly bright like and a brutal impact.

Tank rolled for several yards before stopping. With a groan, he picked himself up, his hands sinking into the sandy ground, and he looked around. He saw a heat-blasted landscape, sand visible for miles in every direction, and, in the far, far, far distance, a massive city.

"I hate the desert," Dempsey sighed, and began walking towards the city in the distance, grateful that he wasn't wearing Nikolai's clothes. It was hot as all hell in this place.

–Scene Break–

Nikolai was absurdly grateful when the endless sensation of terrifying movement ended, even if it was with a brutal impact. The first thing Nikolai did when he stopped rolling was to throw up. Then he looked around. He could almost swear he was in Russia. There was snow all around, and the skies were dark with smoke, and the air thick with the smell of blood, sweat, and pain, and the screams of the dying as a battle raged around him.

Wait a minute.

Nikolai looked around again. Two massive armies were fighting viciously, one side dressed head to toe in armor, the other side drenched in blood. The armored side were shooting lasers at the rushing, blood-soaked hoard, and the hoard held chainsaws and axes, and, if Nikolai wasn't just drunk, chainsaw axes. Nikolai looked at him feet, and saw a corpse, covered in small holes and burns, still clutching the chainsaw axe in its hand.

Nikolai shrugged and picked up the axe.

"When in Rome," he said, his Russian accent showing even more in this place, so like his homeland, and he charged, screaming, towards the other army, his thumb finding the button that sent the axe whirring as its chained teeth sped up, axe and master hungry for blood and carnage.

–Scene Break–

Takeo picked himself up, the journey through the teleporter finally over, and looked around. He was in a fountain, in the middle of a city. The buildings looked like they were made from marble, and seemed to be designed in the ancient Greek fashion. However, none of this seemed as important as the three men aiming large guns at him.

"Drop your weapons, or die," one ordered, and Takeo obliged, and raised his hands into the air. These men were clearly officers of the law, and now his enemies. Takeo resolved to explain as best he could, and hoped that the men understood.

–Scene Break–

Rictofen picked himself up from the ground, and wiped his now filthy hands on his pants. He looked around in the darkness, confused.

"In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have been using the DG-2 on the teleporter," he murmured to himself.

A loud growl echoed from behind him, and footsteps echoed in the darkness. Rictofen spun to the side, and slashed out with his blade, catching his assailant and pinning them against the dark wall.

"You dare attack ze Doctor?" Rictofen snarled, meeting the terrified eyes of a skinless thing. It looked almost human, but instead of arms, it had tentacles, and its feet were cloven. Feathered wings stretched from its back, and an odd, glowing tattoo was etched on its chest, an eight-pointed star with a skull in the center.

"Unhand my pet, mortal," a firm, commanding voice ordered from behind him. With a twist, Rictofen ripped the blade free of the pinned creature, dealing a terrible, mortal injury to the being, and turned to face the voice. Six men in blood-soaked robes stood behind him, each with only their glowing eyes shining out of their hoods.

Rictofen smiled. This promised to be fun.

–End Chapter–

Well, that's the Prologue. The actual chapters will be much, much longer, averaging roughly twice this length, if not more.

Please review, and tell me what you think!