Leon Scott Kennedy. Once a rookie, then a survivor, concluding to a hero. Then enters U.S.A. government and make him a secret agent. Then all they way back to nothing.
Well, at least one place in the world can use a good shot. The Hellsing organization... that's what they're called. Well, if they want a good shot, it's a good guess they got it. Leon though this as he lifted the several cases of his things over the luggage claim. He had flown cross-Atlantic for several hours, and was fairly tired, but awake enough to recall where to go. Passing through the sparse crowds and few people that actually were at that airport that day, Leon Kennedy exited the small airport nearby London.
Once he walked through the doors of the main 'lobby', he was hit with chilly cold and moisture. It had rained on his flight, and outside was soaked to the point of considering the storm a downpour. The cold air seemed to refresh him, as the wet ground beneath his feet firmed his sense; he felt fully awake again. And as a gust of wind picked his light brown hair from his face, he felt rejuvenated.
Finally, noticing a bench by the street, but not close enough to the street to have passing cars splash tides of water on the seats. It was surrounded in a glass box with metal grating, to protect it from most rain that fell by or on it. So, aside from the other man sitting on the Bench, it was inviting to the former secret agent, former police rookie.
Before even moving to the seat, he checked his watch. Hellsing shouldn't be picking me up for another ten minutes… side of the road sounds good. So, with his many weapons stored secretly within the various bags he had taken with him, he made his way to the seat. Checking only for a moment if the seat was wet, he finally sat down, and placed his luggage next to him.
The street was relatively vacant, at least for a medium sized airport. Only so often would a car pass by, leaving a wake of water in its path. The grey skies gave little to comfort his mood of boredom, so in a last effort attempt, he tried for the man next to him.
Turning to face the man, he noticed the person's features. He was slightly taller than Leon, just by a few inches. His hair was only a few shades lighter, more blond than brown, and it was longer in the back, reaching down his neck but not to the shoulders. It was disorganized, but not tangled. He couldn't see the eyes or other facial features of the man, but still felt little resistance from the man for not looking back at him.
"Hey." Leon tried the Universal greeting. The man did little to respond, as he was reading a medium sized book, his face glued to its contents. He simply grunted, sending a less than enthusiastic response back. "What you have there?" The man sitting adjacent to him, looked away, acting similar as if he was just interrupted while re-drawing the Mona Lisa. Not looking at Leon, he held the cover of the book to him, which read, Myths and Mysteries of Our World: A Perspective on Beings Beyond Our Imagination. The cover showed an image of the loch ness monster in the lake, a werewolf in the moonlight, and several other illustrated monsters
"Sounds like an interesting read."
"Yup."
Leon heard the voice. Something deep in his mind clicked when he heard it- It sounded familiar to him, a lost memory.
"Like stuff like that?"
"Research."
Leon thought of some response, and held his mouth open slightly at the odd response. "Right."
The man brought the book back under his face, and apparently continued to read, leaving Leon to wonder if this was a silent code for 'get lost' or 'if you don't mind'. He decided in either case that he would solve his problem of boredom, and press the conversation.
"Who're you waiting for? Friends… family?" This seemed to catch the original client of the bench a little more; he tilted his head ever so slightly, and glanced at Leon. It was a simple stare, but its purpose was a mystery. Was it a gesture of 'None of your business' or a motionless nod to continue. But through this look, he saw something. Those eyes. Green, wild eyes. Leon bent a little closer, trying to catch the glimpse again. But again, like the voice, stirred something in his mind- like a lost memory. The stranger didn't turn again, and Leon did not get another glimpse.
Leon however had a secret weapon- a little persistence would do this man in. So he kept staring at the man. He knew this man was good at ignoring, but everyone has its limits, and invading ones personal space always broke silence. He had been staring hard for a good while when-
"Alright," he slammed the book down, and faced Leon completely. "If you want to talk soo badly, why don't you-" he stopped shouting as his eyes widened.
Leon's eyes too widened. He knew the person who sat next to him. He had met him many years ago. A friend; a brother- from RaccoonCity. The man sitting next to him was a grown up Zohall Mercer.
"Holy crap- Leon?"
"Zohall?"
They both stared, bemused at each other for a few seconds. Then in mirror action they both exclaimed "Whoa! It is you!"
"Man, you look old." Was the first thing Zohall said before giving Leon a half-arm hug across the shoulders.
"I look old? Who here was fourteen last I saw you, kid?" Leon smiled as he re-used the old nickname for Zohall as they broke off of the hug.
"Oh god, you still remember that damn name?" Zohall eyes narrowed with misery as the memory of his hated name was brought forward. Zohall hated being considered young. Even though he was, in many respects, older, people through out his life commented on how immature he would behave, which was something he constantly considered a personal insult.
"Yeah, I do. And I don't think it will ever leave you, kiddo."
Zohall groaned in disgust at the remark.
"So, Leon what have you been up to- oh wait, lemme guess- Secret agent still right?"
Leon smirked. Same Zohall; always knowing more than he aught to. "Maybe."
"Sure," he spoke in a mocking tone," I heard all about Spain!"
Wow, Leon thought, He's gotten better at it too. "Kid, you never know when to stop looking into dangerous stuff, do you?"
"No, and you don't know when to stop calling me kid. So, what happened? I've heard some rumors about members of Umbrella resurfacing in some group. Was it them? Was it Umbrella?" Zohall started up strongly, each word sounding more ready for a coming war against the former corporation.
"You seriously got to have eyes and ears for everybody I come across. How do you get all this info?" Zohall snorted, and gave a very corny and sarcastic wink to Leon, and just continued to smile. "What about you, Zohall? Where have you been? I mean, you've been gone for… years?"
The Blond man's grin was shaken off quickly, in place with a concerned look in his green eyes. They glazed over, recalling something Leon could not see.
"I've… been traveling." Zohall's face was perfectly blank; a poker face.
"Oh? Let me guess: A search for spiritual and mental discipline?" Leon's teasing worked, slightly.
"Maybe."
"Fine. What are you doing here in Britain?" This had Zohall break his poker face to respond.
"Well, I've been looking for a long-term, good paying job. And I just got one!" Leon brain clockwork just made a loud 'twing!' as the kid said this. Zohall sitting here, same bench, same airport. He has similar background as Leon's, and similar skills. Was it possible to have wound up…?Leon knew it was time to sort these ideas out.
"Sounds great." He waited for a car to pass, and then in a sudden burst, he said," You ever hear of The Hellsing Organization?"
Zohalls reaction was one of the most comical things Leon had seen in a long time. As he said this, Zohall, who was busy tightening his shoes just a bit more, had a double take, slipped and jumped off the seat, hitting the nearby stop sign full in the forehead. Leon would have roared with laughter had it not been his fault Zohall hit the sign. Instead he made it out to be a hacking cough. "Are you ok?"
"How… ow… they hired you too then?" Zohall got up, rubbing his face, and quickly figured out how Leon knew his next employees.
"Yeah."
"So, then those bags are-"
"I wasn't sure what to pack for this job," he motioned to his several packages," so I brought all my guns." Inside the four actual packs, suit case, and two other carrying cases, Leon had secretly store four hand guns, each with a particular firepower, his riot shotgun, his bolt-action sniper rifle with two scopes, his ,automatic machine gun, Mine Thrower, Rocket Launcher, and Thompson machinegun . "I hope I brought enough."
Zohall stared at the many packages, only Imagining the amount of destruction possible from the simple packages he had. "You just might have."
"Yeah," Leon glanced to Zohall's two cases and backpack. "What about you?"
"I got a new Desert Eagle, and I brought Gleam." He padded a longer case, about six feet in length.
"Nice, Zee. Very nice." What Leon knew about Zohall, at least what he thought he knew, was that Zohall never went anywhere without his prized five-foot sword, Gleam. The monstrously long straight sword had a handle and hilt similar to a Katana but was curved and one fifth the size of the entire sword. The blade itself was one of the strongest metals Leon had ever come across. It could withstand bullets, even parry them, deflect or just block them. With it's two sides, Leon constantly made references to it as a 'light saber'. However, if that was a light saber, Zohall was a Jedi. He could actually be fast enough to dodge bullets completely and do some amazing things.
Leon was not sure what was more dangerous: him armed to the teeth with every weapon in his arsenal at his disposal, or Zohall and his sword. The blade was named Gleam due to it shining through the air brightly whenever he swung it, even in dim light.
"You been practicing?" Leon started, staring at the bag, and then noticing the more muscular body the man next to him had gained since 1998.
"Yeah, sort of."
"Lifting?"
"No, hunting… stuff." Zohall glanced to the book he was reading, catching Leon's glances to it as well. "I just picked that up. I heard some strange stuff about Hellsing, so I decided that I should start… reading more."
"So you looked up a book centering the Loch ness, Dracula, and the werewolf?" Leon said, raising his eyebrows with each word.
"Hey, I had a twenty, I was bored, and I saw this, ok-" Zohall stared down the street, watching something heading down their way. "I think our ride is here."
"Oh, how so?" Leon stared too down the street the direction Zohall had been staring at.
"I haven't seen any expensive limo's driving by with small flags on it with that "Hellsing" thing on it 'til about now. And I just guessed." Leon rolled his eyes and checked his watch. It was a few seconds to two in the afternoon. And within seconds, the watch hit two, and the car pulled to a stop right by them.
"The driver has got some good timing." Leon said, as they exchanged looks.
"No doubt about it." As Zohall said it, he got up with Leon, and slid slightly on the sidewalk, nearly collapsing again, just catching himself in time. Klutz was all Leon could think.
"Mr. Kennedy and Mercer?" an elderly man with a small ponytail of jet black hair stepped out. Leon would have glanced to Zohall in amusement, but he thought that rather strange, as this person was the real 'Alfred' man. A single shiny monocle in front of his left eye which had a string connected to his ear, wearing a white shirt under a black vest and red tie, complete with blue dress pants and black fancy shoes made this man the perfect looking Butler. "My name is Walter, The Hellsing family retainer and butler."
"Hi Walter." Zohall said cheerfully, approaching him as he would anyone. "Nice to meet yah. I'm Zohall Mercer." Still smiling broadly, he extended his hand to the wrinkled man.
"Very nice to have you working for us, Mr. Mercer." Walter grasped his hands, and for a split moment, Zohall's eyes widened. Either in pain or surprise, but Leon was sure he could hear the leather gloves on the older man stretching slightly in what must have been a very strong grip.
"Yeah. Can't wait." Zohall said, looking unchanged. As soon as the handshake ended, Walter turned for Leon, and extended his hand. Behind his back, Zohall silently screamed at his hand in pain, holding it in the air, and dancing in agony.
"Leon Kennedy. Also a pleasure to have you a member of our organization." Leon kept glancing over to his friend and the butler, nervous about the hand.
"Yeah, thanks." Firmly taking the hand, he had a perfectly normal handshake with the 'family retainer' of the Hellsing organization, whatever that meant.
"If I may," Walter bowed slightly, indicating at the many bags Leon had.
"Oh, its fine- if you could just open the door-" Leon started, picking up the many bags.
"If you insist. But do remember, I am a butler and are expected to do such things." He walked right past Zohall, who had immediately changed his squirming figure into a perfectly straight one, and got back into the car, starting the car back up.
"That handshake- Christ!" Zohall said, shaking his hand in the air, trying to fan it from pain.
"What?"
"That guy must be- seventy? And he has that hard of a grip?" Zohall stared into the car, yet not so much to look awkward.
"Try lifting," Said Leon, going to the back of the car to place his stuff away," rather than hunting rabbits and ducks. You get more exercise." The lid popped open as quickly as Zohall's mouth fell open in the insult he had received.
"It wasn't rabbits and ducks…" grumbled Zohall as he lifted his own things to the back, and shoved them inside, grumbling something about "like to see you try" back to Leon. Once they had their things in the back of the car, they got into the back of the car, and it peeled away from the small, wet airport to wherever they were heading. Past medium populated suburbs, through rural communities, until they reach almost unpopulated stretch.
"Nice view of the countryside, hu?" Zohall said, looking out the window he had his head almost pushed up against.
"It looks like it rained recently." Leon said back, lazily looking at the grim looking sky above, filled with grey clouds threatening to bring torrents of water.
"It's nice to see the countryside." Zohall said, more to himself than Leon, but the former agent picked it up quickly.
"I thought you said you were hunting?" Zohall's eyes could been seen widening in surprise in his reflection, and as he turned to face Leon, he did little to hide that surprise.
"Yeah, so?"
"So then you were hunting in a city parking lot?" Leon had the sudden and humorous image of Zohall in a camp tent in the middle of a large New York parking lot, chasing pigeons and squirrels with his long blade.
"No, I wasn't anywhere close to the city. Or any city in that matter." Leon still stared at him, glanced to the front seat, were Walter drove on, then back to Zohall.
"What have you been up to kid?"
"Kid again?" Leon stared down at him. "Fine. I said I was hunting. For two things though- first a job. Second, what came with the job."
"And that was, or is?" Leon asked again, now interested in what his younger friend from Raccoon had been up to.
"Well… at first when I found out that Umbrella was still out there-"
"You did go looking for them." Leon finished, exasperation and knowing in his voice. Zohall had a personal grudge against the company that brought death to the city he grew up in, and still seemed to hold that grudge. "How stupid is that? You actually expected to find them by yourself?"
"I thought they weren't hiding; you know, out in the open. By the time I got to some remote mountain passes in Asia… it occurred to me that might not have been the case." Zohall said, disappointed and angry. "But that led me to another job."
"And that was…?"
"Well, not that you would believe me… monster hunting."
"Right." He was right, Leon had trouble taking him seriously.
"Or something close to werewolves. There was a village, in some remote mountain, being terrorized or something by these wolf-men, and I just got rid of them. Was an easy pay job." He shrugged as if it was a daily chore to rid remote villages of monstrous creatures.
"Then how'd you get into-"
"On my perilous way back to civilization," began Zohall again, taking a dramatic tone of voice," I found another 'Looking for Soldiers' thing. So I signed up, some guy camera'd me, and I just did what I do."
"Same thing here. I was recommended to them though. The government isn't completely heartless apparently." Leon said bitterly. Zohall laughed slightly at this comment, and yawned. "Jet lag?" prompted Leon.
"Bad case of it too." He looked forward to Walter. "Hey Walter," the old man tilted his head to the back, listening," when are we going to reach wherever we are going?"
"In about an hours time, Mr. Mercer."
"'Kay, thanks." He looked to Leon. "I'm taking a nap. If you see the mansion, hit me, ok?"
"I have no problem doing that." Leon smiled as he commented.
"Jerk." Zohall kicked himself slightly across the long seat, giving him room to stretch and rest. His eyes closed, and as he began to ignore the shaking and bumping of the car, he drifted asleep. He felt bright light on him. Even with his eyes closed, bright white light shone on his closed eyelids, making it uncomfortable to rest. "Leon, turn off that light."
Nothing. No response, no bump of the car, no muffled sound of passing countryside. Nothing. Opening his eyes, he gasped, shocked out of his mind.
He was in what could have been the inside of a enormous light bulb. White light, not blinding, but prominent to want him to blink as his eyes focused, surrounded him in all directions. Even the ground, which he assumed was ground only because he stood up off of it, emanated the light. There was air present, either that or he didn't need to breathe. He was still dressed at least.
What the hell… Is this a dream? I'm sure I fell asleep… but what the hell is going on? He couldn't lay his finger on it. Must be a mishap of an 'out-of-body' experience.
"Not really." He whipped around, now standing up, at the direction he thought the voice emanated from. It sounded… german-ish. Slight accented, but only the lightest of an accent. It might have sounded pleasant, but it was flat, sounding bored.
"Hello?" he looked around, hoping to catch someone in the semi-bright light. "Where are you?"
"I am right here." The voice again said, now clearly German accented, but no figure of any kind appeared as Zohall spun around, looking for the source of the sound. It felt like it was everywhere, and every time he spun to where it sounded it was concentrated, it seemed to fade off elsewhere. He was spinning around in circles like a top, looking like an idiot.
"Where? Or- wait, why am I talking to someone in my drea- wait…" he paused again, this 'dream' of his wading further away from the kind of dream he was used to," I can choose what words to say… and then know... that they may have not been the best choice afterward? Crazy realistic dream," Zohall added, looking around.
"You know this is no dream, don't be foolish. I don't have the time for silly games."
Silly games? Zohall repeated in his head. He cleared his throat. "So you saying this is real."
"What? What are you talking about?"
Oh yeah, real helpful lady, Zohall closed his eye after a moment. "Is this a dream of mine that happens to be particularly realistic, or something else?"
"Why would you ask such a stupid question-" he sputtered 'stupid' as she continued," when you know perfectly well that you can fall into this place any time you wish."
"What are you saying?" he looked around, now sure he saw something in the distance. "Who are you?"
"Oh no…"
"Oh no, what?" Zohall asked. He heard nothing. "Hey, you ok?" He waited for a response, and got none. "Hello?" Zohall sighed, and thought, God, she is no help-
Screams burst painfully in every direction, seemingly piling on top of each other, and building up to the point where he had to change his constant cringe to actually clasping his ears tightly.
"Hey!" Screams still echoed. "WILL YOU SHUT UP?!"
Still no response, until in one direction, he heard a loud crack. A small black… thing seemed to have come out of nowhere, now growing. And as he looked closer, still wincing at the screams, he saw it to be a black tentacle breaking its way through the floor. The tentacle was creating a massive crack, and it began to spread, racing around him in all directions. Then everything went blood red, looking like waves and waves of blood flowing around like a vortex. Then it all stopped, becoming black and possibly endless red eyes opened from the surrounding darkness, staring wildly at Zohall.
"GAH!" Zohall jumped up from the seat, smacking his head against the roof of the car.
"Strike number two. You ok kid?" Leon seemed to be keeping tack of the mishaps that Zohall did.
"No- stop calling me that, seriously."
"Sorry, you just seem to carry that with you." Leon said as if reminding him of an obvious fact.
"You seem to carry that!"
"Hey, what's wrong?" Leon said, slightly taken aback at the sudden flair of anger.
"Nothing." Zohall irritably responded. "Bad dream."
The ride must have taken thirty more minuets before Zohall started to realize just how far away from the urban areas they were- they hadn't passed a car during most of the ride through the countryside. Finally, after a few more minutes, a large field, blocked off by rows of trees on the side of the road showed a very long driveway, also having the trees following it down the dirt driveway. Large, and relatively new looking black metal gates blocked the way as the car pulled in, but they did not stop- as they car approached, the gate moved aside, and the car moved past them.
Looking around, he noticed they were pulling up to a large manor. Front the front of the car came the butlers voice, "Welcome to Hellsing Organization Headquarters, gentlemen."
Many voices were speaking at once. the dimmed room cast only moving portraits of people. The general chat was one of mingled curiosity, excitement, and fear. A door creaked open and the busy voices fell silent as a tall, slim man walked around the table where they were seated. The figure shrouded in darkness finally found his seat, an elevated platform. Lights were cast, and the man's face was shown: unshaven stubble was growing rampant, red-ish brown eyes, short black hair, his pale skin splattered with dirt- he quite looked savage.
"Thank you all for so kindly attending this conference. I assure you, it is of great need you all be here. But first, I would like to thank each and every one of you; you all who have worked so hard with limited recourses and constant pressure and of course, the development of quicksilver rounds. They were what allowed me to be here today. So, an applause for our hard working scientists!"
There was a general light applause that trickled up from the darkness of the room.
"Yes, and a second one for our watchers; who if not had supported us, we would certainly be having this talk behind bars, or worse as not only do countries search for us, but so does a particular organization."
Some laughter met the end of this sentence, and one man from the seated got and gave a dramatic bow.
"Yes, and lastly, for the U.U. The Umbrella Underground has given us the privilege to work in some of their more hidden laboratories, and the constant reach of their previous research has been most helpful."
A louder more enthusiastic clapping arouse for the occasion this time. The standing, illuminated figure simply smiled and waited for noise to die down.
"And so we reach the point of this meeting and why I called you all to this gathering." The members seemed to hold their breath, this is what they came for.
"I must regrettably inform you all that no one here will receive mentioned accreditation of the subjected research or payments for such research." Instant outrage met these words. He stood there, lapping every word of how unjust or unfair this was to them.
"Towers, is this some sick joke? We helped you all the way through this, and this is what you give us? Nothing!" shouted one man who nearly kicked his chair over when he shot up from seating.
"We get you Ghoul T-Virus; controllable ghouls with vampiric strings-"
"Edward, this is an OUTRAGE! We will not stand-" the other words were drowned away as many other figures stood up and shot volley after volley of words.
EdwardTowers stood at the platform, waiting for a silence of some sort to fall. When it did not, he raised his hand. The shouting slowly degenerated to irritated mumbles.
"Dr. Blane, you are mistaken. I give you all the best prize I can offer here tonight... Your lives stay intact."
At first a shocked silence sunk the room into a noiseless hole, then the Dr. Blane who spoke before, started to laugh.
"What sick joke is this Towers? Going to kill everyone of us to keep the prize? All Sixty eight of us against you and a few guards?"
Others laughed, some shouted, and others threatened to simply leave. These words now shouting around were the ones he had been waiting for. Not many noticed, as they simply were to angry to notice any change going on, his eyes began to darken and steadily redden; then he looked to his right- two guards waiting in the shadows saw his nod and left for the door. Without a single man, save for Towers, noticing their departure, they exited the room, and closed the doors behind it.
Outside the door, the two guards began to lock, shore and block the door- the only way in and out for humans in that room- with the pile of objects collected from a nearby scrap yard.
"Hey, I'm not so sure about this. These things don't look that strong." The other guard looked back at him.
"Listen, we are getting paid to stop the scientists from getting out. Not body builders, not soldiers. Scientists. They couldn't open the door if we leaned against it."
"Then why did Towers say to block it up nice?"
"I don't know, but I also don't care. Let's do this, get paid, and leave, ok? These woods give me the creeps."
Once the doors was closed, he faced the angry mob of scientists again. Time for some fun, and a refreshed army, EdwardTowers thought hungrily.
"Fellow friends, I apologize. I didn't realize how much this meant to you all." This new approach took the mob by surprise. "So, as a token for what we did together, I will bestow you all with one great gift. Please be seated."
"As many of you knew, I have been pursued by agents of an organization that has sworn to 'protect the world from evil and darkness'. I have run across forests, around rivers, through two cities, just to be here for you all, for the new vials-" he pointed to the package, now open and displaying several flask containers, filled with various green liquid," and I give you my utmost gratitude for putting up with my tardiness."
"I'm sure some of you were expecting a cash reward. But this is your gift for helping me come closer to my dream." He reached inside of his jacket, and withdrew a single glass vial, green liquid inside the vial, surrounding a spiral separate vial within the confines of the primary vial. The room had blast of shocked silence, he had one; one with him- Enhanced T-Virus. Not the final project- but bad enough. Still, its airborne life was short, but inside this concealed room, longevity was not important.
"I offered you the best reward I could, to walk out alive and functional. But some seem to want more in their life." He aggressively knocked the stand over and walked closer to the edge of the platform, everyone now watching with fear. "Green T-Virus, type V-08, our prototype, the new breed."
"I will miss you all." He pulled back his hand holding the vial like a baseball.
"WAIT! We can talk this out towers! Don't do something you might regret!" one of the men pleaded, holding a hand to Endward. EdwardTowers anger flared up at the last comment- he had no more regrets. He only had one thing left to loose, and as long as he had 'it', he would not loose it.
"Tell me, doctor," he leered, giving his cruelest and most evil face he could," you have told me you can dance rather well on several occasions. But can you catch?!"
Edward Threw the Vial, full force at the man who spoke up, and it shattered full in his face. Green fluids splashing all around.
"I fear nothing. I regret nothing." His eyes steadily grew redder and redder as he stared at the ground, taking his time to think.
"No... everybody get out of here!" One in the crowd had given the order and they launched themselves at the barred doors. It wouldn't budge.
"Only the dead are allowed to leave this place." Edwards still stood at the edge of the platform, and turned to the man he'd hit. It had only been 20 seconds or so... he would be his soon to use. To control, to manipulate.
"Towers. We're all dead because of you. And while we turn into more zombies, I plan to make sure you pay more than the rest of us!" The raging scientist launched himself at the silent man on the platform. Then a flash of speed, the portrait man with now red eyes vanished for a split second, only to reappear behind him, his arm looped around the formerly charging man, his hand placed at his heart.
"That was," he forced his way through the chest and pieced the man like a knife through hot butter," very stupid". Crimson rained down from the attacking scientist's back, and then in a disgusting display, Towers sank his fangs into the neck of the dying man. Those few who were ready to support the attacking and now dead man watched, petrified.
"You-a... not... no" one slowly walked backwards, only to wander into the freshly reanimated scientist still covered in shattered glass, and had a chunk of his skin ripped out from the neck by the reanimated zombie.
The feasting vampire finally lifted his head, his smile stained with blood. He dropped the cold, bloodied corpse. "I... am VAMPIRE!" this shout got every crawling man to turn around and see what was about to happen to them. And even as they did, two more simply collapsed- the air born virus doing its job well. Everyone pushed their backs against the closed door, watching as now 5 reanimated bodies rose in a line facing them, and in the background, the vampire simply grinned. He gave them one command.
"Feast."
From outside the hidden complex in the forest, screaming could be heard for miles.
