Chapter 9
"Shista! Shista! Shista!" Richtofen cursed to himself, having just witnessed the events that had just transpired before him.
Richtofen sat alone alone in a dark room, in front of him were multiple TVs, used to view many of the cameras that lay throughout the castle. Instead, all Richtofen saw were that the intruders were quite skilled in eliminating his creations, a new horde would approach group of eleven, only to be shot down, like the many that came before. As for the hell hounds, whom once had the advantage of surprise, too were shot down as easily as the zombies. While they were faster, the superior fire power of the rifles the BSAA agents had proved useful.
"I must admit..." Richtofen looking into one of the many televisions, particularly at the one in the billiard room, the group having propped the billiard table up to the door, the weight holding off Richtofen's creations. "They vere much better than I had anticipated." Richtofen thought.
He continued glaring at the security feed, as the intruders managed to survive for so long. There was one in particular he did not like. There was a large, bearded man, who had ended the lives of so many zombies with just what Richtofen assumed to be a powerful, cowboy gun, like in a cowboy movie. Disappointed, he reached for his pipe, lit it, and began smoking.
"I do not like his beard."
Richtofen continued watching the battle, but there was a buzzing feeling in his pocket. His cell phone had gone off once more.
"Ah shista," he said reaching into his pocket. "I vill zee them die later."
Richtofen took the phone and flipped it open.
"Ja?" he said
it was his creditors, and they did not seem happy.
"Vhat do you mean you demand research results?! Do you have any idea how-"
The speaker on the other end cut him off. They were not happy with Richtofen's behavior, nor the lack of news.
"I vill send zee the test results! For now I have to swat some bothersome flies! That is for me to know!" Richtofen said "But do not vorry..." Richtofen gnawed on the end of his pipe. "I shall send the battle data on our 'creations' very soon… Guttenacht."
Richtofen put away the cell phone. Disappointed by the lack of progress made with his backers. One false move, and he would lose the finances sent to him. But little did they know, Richtofen had no interest in sharing his 'creations' with the world, as he would only be satisfied with its destruction caused by the creations themselves. He did not murder Maxis, his daughter, Samantha, the various researchers of Group 935, just to have nothing. Richtofen looked back at the screen. Seeing the soldiers were now resting after yet another confrontation with what the castle had to offer in the way of zombies. But there were secrets beyond than just the zombie; Richtofen pulled out a keyboard from under the monitors, and began typing a code.
"Any idea how long we're gonna be here Captain?" Anderson asked Chris.
Chris looked over to look at Anderson, who was using the ACR given to him earlier as a crutch.
"Until we've rested up." Chris responded back to his subordinate. "Barry!" now turning his attention over Captain Burton.
"Yeah?" Barry asked who was finally providing proper treatment to Pvt. Mota
"What's the status on the.." Chris stopped himself sensing that something was wrong.
Soon enough, gas was filling the room, as if pumped from an outside source. Chris and the others began choking, their eyes irriated.
"Ach .. 'cough' ach Tear… 'cough' gas!' Chris choked out, his lungs effected by the gas, every breathe Chris took, was a painful one. "Put on your masks!"
It was too late, the effects of the tear gas had caught the exhausted men off guard. He more they struggled, the worse they felt. Each and everyone of them wished they were far away from the room as possible.
Their lack of action soon proved punishing. As each and every one of them were in their world of pain, no one noticed the doors quickly being forced open.
"No..." Chris thought. "It can't end here." He had to survive, he just had to. For their sake of his sister Claire, his wife and lover Jill, and their expecting baby.
Chris dragged himself across the room, as the zombies poured into the room. They descended upon the wounded Mota, tearing the defenseless man to pieces. The rest seeing the fresh meat in the room, lunged towards them.
"Nein!" Richtofen said walking into the room, accompanied by Nikolai. The gas had not effected him, as he was wearing an old-fashioned gas mask. "As much as ve vant them dead." Richtofen kicked Chris in the chest, knocking the air out of him.
"Ah1" Chris yelled in pain.
"Ve need them alive…. For science!" Richtofen finished.
Strangely, the zombies stopped what they were doing and did not pursue th exposed men further.
"Now," Richtofen continued. "Take them to the cells!"
The zombies did as ordered and picked up the men. The ones who resisted were simply clubbed by Richtofen, Nikolai, and the few zombies well-trained enough to wield guns. The rifles and kicks forcing the struggling men to submit to their captors. Their bodies drained, no longer had the strength or will to resist.
"There vill be no Geneva Convention for you!" Richtofen taunted. "Now you vill know true pain and terror beyond your vildest dreams!" Richtofen began laughing like a maniac, Nikolai, saying nothing drank straight from his vodka bottle.
The exhausted Chris was done fighting and finally collapsed. As he was blacking out, Chris felt as though he was being dragged out through the door. Slowly, his body gave up the fight, and all he saw was blackness.