(Chapter 3: The Village)
Ryan stood there for a moment, trying to collect every thing he was viewing into his mind. He was just in a dark forest moments ago, but now he had came out to a large grandiose open area filled with several buildings. In his eyes, this would be the perfect scenario to live in. No people in the village? Fine with him, as long as the houses were tidied up, and clean. If the village wasn't so suiting, then the castle would do just fine.
The ex-marine had foolishly made the assumption that the castle was also abandoned since he couldn't hear any sounds coming from the village below when in reality that couldn't be any further from the truth. A truth that he had yet to stumble upon, and find out the hard way.
Following a deep breath, the soldier marched into the village alone. He had no back up whatsoever if things went completely South, all he had was himself in this banged up position. He was a total mess from his fight earlier against the lycan horde near his cabin, and the cold air he was forced to march through had made him significantly weak.
As he made his way down a hill, he pushed past all of the limbs of bushes, and even trees that were in his way. There was so much dried brush that he didn't see a steep slope coming up on him, he paid the price for not looking down as his feet slipped, and the man began to tumble down the slope!
Thankfully, it didn't harm him that much, but it did stun him back awake as he was walking a fine line between being conscious, and falling unconscious from how much work he had put in to simply survive in these brutal conditions. When he scrambled back to his feet, he noticed that a large chunk of his tactical vest had completely fallen off of his body, exposing the dark green muscle shirt beneath that also had a large tear growing with every fall he took, soon pieces of his shirt would be falling off of him.
Now he was within the village, and as he looked to his right there was a house. Unfortunately it appeared just as run down as the cottage he took shelter in earlier after walking through the dark forest. It didn't help his feelings one bit when he discovered a frozen carcass of a decaying horse on the ground. The coloration of the horse had turned a dark green, frost covering it completely so it was as stiff as a board. It's eyes glassy, and white. Ryan could see parts of it's rib cage due to it rotting, and he could only take this sight in as a bad omen of what is to come.
He held on to hope that this house would give him shelter, but as soon as he entered it, those hopes were quickly diminished. It was just as bad as the cottage he wandered into earlier, everything inside of this residence was a total mess. Furniture was smashed up, junk littered the floor. Items in the kitchen were dangling from the wall, and a stew had gone bad in a pot sitting on a stool. Plates on the table were broken into pieces, and the bedroom was even worse.
Strangely enough, there was another painting of that strange angelic woman he had yet to know the name of. The ex-marine started to put the pieces of the puzzle together that this woman must have been a person that the villagers idolized.
As he explored other parts of the house, he would only see even more junk stashed against a brick wall. He shook his head, it would seem like the only option he would have is to go to that gigantic castle. As he made his way for the door, a dark figure rushed past it unexpectedly, startling Ryan some. Now he started to feel like he wasn't alone anymore, and that feeling of being stalked began to creep back into his thoughts.
As Ryan continued to explore the village, it only got worse. Several buildings were more decrepit than others, even some of the roofs have completely caved in. Old radios were crackling with barely any music coming out of them at all. Everything in this place was outdated by a good few decades, he noticed strange white runes displayed on brick walls in some buildings, and he began to wonder if they were related to that woman he was seeing in those paintings.
In one house, an empty baby crib contained what appeared to be another armband of the Forgotten Ops! The black strap, and the red logo of wolves barking on it, each wolf resembling a member of the vigilante squad!
A look of shock was on display now on the face of the man, he was taken aback at this revelation. He checked his left shoulder to make sure his armband hadn't fallen off into the crib, but it was still attached. This would mean that one of them had to have survived the lycan attack ten years ago, the only question is which one of them did?
"Malosi?!" Ryan called out as he left the house, his voice bouncing off the walls of the village, and echoing into the mountains. He received no response.
"Moises?!" He tried to call out for another member, but just as before, the ex-marine received no response as he walked down another street. He noticed decapitated goat heads hanging from trees, some of them were still dripping blood from them as if they had been slaughtered recently.
"What the hell happened here...?" Ryan asked himself as he walked past a ruined tractor, looking around for any other signs of his old buddies taking shelter here. Allies he hadn't seen in an entire decade.
"Dan?!" Again he yelled, this time he received a response in the form of a chicken squawking as it ran to go hide from this outsider who had arrived into the village without warning or any elaboration on who he was, or where he came from.
He entered another house to see nothing but more junk stacked against the wall in forms of many empty cardboard boxes, but he noticed something that intrigued him at the end of the hall of stacked up clutter. A knife lodged into a desk, finally, a weapon he could defend himself with. Although it wasn't a gun or a firearm, he could make do with a knife just as fine as he did wonders with melee weapons against lycans before, albeit the fighting was obscenely difficult.
He stashed the knife into his pocket as he opened up a wooden box to reveal supplies of a first aid kit, this would certainly come in handy if he was to be attacked by anything else. Some parts of the kit had evidently been used already as it was missing some things such as rubbing alcohol, the scissors, and other items. However, two big rolls of gauze, and three bandages were available.
Ryan slipped the two rolls of gauze into two pockets of the remains of his tactical vest, and he crammed the bandages into another pocket on his pants before continuing to explore through the house. He entered the kitchen/living room of this house, compared to all the others he had been in, this one seemed decent. It was still a mess, but it could be one that could be cleaned up.
The trooper approached a pot of stew sitting on a burner, it appeared to still be bubbling as if it was boiling mere moments ago. Someone had to be here, as he looked around, there was no other sign of human life. Whoever takes residence here must be protecting the house as he noticed that the windows had steel gates over them, as he made his way for the exit of the house, the ex-marine heard a thump behind a rug in which was dangling over an entryway.
Ryan slowly opened the curtain to see an elderly man standing in the shadows, holding a shotgun in his arms, aimed right at him. His eyes widened as he jumped to the side in the nick of time when the man opened fire, the loud roar of the shotgun erupting inside the house as the shells burst through the wall, leaving holes in them.
"Easy there! I'm friendly!" Ryan said as loud as he could, his hands up in surrender, wanting to assure this stranger that he meant no harm done.
"Who are you? Who sent you?" The old man asked as he slowly emerged with the shotgun still aimed at him, not sure if Ryan was to be trusted, for the elderly person had never seen him before.
"I am Miles, Ryan Miles of the Forgotten Ops. Served two tours in the middle east, I came here via a crash landing, and-" His voice was cut off as the old man placed his hand over his mouth, the sound of a lycan roaring outside of the house shook the walls as the man frantically looked around.
"Shut up, stay quiet." The elderly man spoke softly, his voice hardly going over a whisper as he slowly removed his hand from Ryan's lips.
"Can I talk now?" The ex-marine asked just as silently.
"Go ahead."
"I am Ryan Miles, I served two tours in the middle east. I was also in a five person mercenary group known as the Forgotten Ops, I come in peace."
"Take a seat, I have some stew made. I may need to heat it up again, those demons are everywhere out there." The old man spoke as he motioned for Ryan to take a seat with his shotgun.
"Demons? You mean those lycan things out there?" Ryan asked as he turned around to see the man putting down his gun to check on his stew.
"Yes, those things have been picking us off one by one. I'm afraid there is hardly any survivors left out there."
Ryan fell silent for a moment, looking at the wounds that was inflicted on him earlier by the lycan attack near his cabin. His mind jumping to the worst of things as he thought of the fate of whoever perished from his squadron.
"Ya know, I was sent here with my buddies around ten years ago. Not to this village, but to this country. Those monsters are like a virus, they are spreading everywhere they go. Our mission was to try and cull the spread, and my personal goal was to find the epicenter of this breakout, and each of those goals failed." Ryan explained, the elderly man turned around to face him.
"It would explain why I have these scars, this dried up blood all over me, hell, some of it is still probably flesh. I had to fight through several of them things earlier, almost lost my life to them had I stayed around in the woods." Ryan continued, the old man noticing the blood and gore all over Ryan's dark green shirt, and the torn bits of his tactical vest that was dangling off of him.
The man also noticed the dark brown stains of blood on Ryan's arms, some of it on his face even.
"Take that vest off, and the shirt off, fuck it, take everything off, I'm going to get you some new clothing. Those devils are attracted to blood." The senior citizen warned sternly through his teeth.
"So you want me to strip naked?" Ryan asked with a soft cynical laugh.
"This isn't a time for jokes, Mr. Miles, take your shit off immediately, and empty everything you have."
Ryan removed all of his loot that he had gathered from this village so far: The knife, the two rolls of gauze, and the three bandages, and placed them on the table before chuckling as he went behind the curtain to strip down of all of his clothing. His vest, his dark green muscle shirt, his black cargo pants, black combat boots, and white socks, sliding them out from under the curtain for the man to collect.
"Hold tight while I find you some clothing." The man said.
"What's your name, friend?" Ryan asked the senior citizen while he waited for his new clothes to be given to him.
"Petr." The old fellow replied.
"Well Petr, how long has this been going on? The lycans, you seem to be the kind of person to know." Ryan questioned the old man.
"Years, it's been building up over time. Ever since the first one attacked the village, we done everything we could to stop them. The first two people to go missing where the chiefs of this place. Urias lost his brother, and he went to go find him, and then Urias never came back. Then the lycans started coming, and it got worse from there. Now it's all over this country according to you." Petr explained.
This must be where the whole thing started, this damned village... Ryan thought to himself as he tapped his bare foot on the ground, waiting for his clothes to be sent to him.
"Governments have been doing their hardest to stop them, closing off borders, building walls, militarizing the citizens. Nothing has worked so far, so that is when I stepped in with my pals to rid Europe of them things, but things backfired as you could probably tell." Ryan said giving Petr some info of his own.
"It's a damn shame." Petr grumbled as he slid Ryan some socks, the ex-marine sliding them on quickly as he was then given some black boxer briefs which he slid on as well.
"I just don't know why all of this is happening." Ryan continued with a sigh, wondering how this even came to be, and why it was happening in the first place. There had to be some one, or some thing responsible for all of this.
"Mother Miranda isn't listening to our prayers, she is the one that is letting this happen." Petr sighed.
"I hate to break it to you, Petr, but it seems like you've been worshipping a false idol. There is one true God, and this Miranda isn't one." Ryan replied as he grabbed hold of his cross necklace, examining it to make sure it had no blood on it.
"I've prayed to him as well, but I could only sit back, and watch as my people fell one by one. Now I think I'm the only one here, he hasn't done anything for me." Petr growled.
"God hasn't done anything for you, yet you stand alive and well while all the others that worship this Miranda falter. Be grateful for the Lord's mercy, my friend." Ryan replied as he noticed blue jeans being slid under the curtain, which he slid onto his legs.
"The lords haven't stepped in either." Petr said, confusing Ryan.
"You mean more than one?" The ex-marine asked.
"Yes, House Heisenberg, House Dimitrescu, House Beneviento, and House Moreau. They have all failed to do their tasks assigned to them by Miranda, they are the ones that have control over this village next to Miranda, her enforcers if you will." Petr answered.
"What makes you think these people you call lords aren't letting this happen too?"
Petr stopped for a moment, thinking about what Ryan just said. The old man started to wonder if they were ignoring the villages cries for help intentionally.
"You've got a point, I'm starting to lose my patience, and trust with those fools. However, I think help is coming soon. Have you ever heard of the man in black?" Petr asked.
"Johnny Cash?" Ryan joked when he heard Petr reference a man in black.
"No, the man in black. The one who watches over us on the cliffside?" Petr tried to explain to Ryan what this person was, but he then remembered that Ryan was an outsider.
"Never heard of him. If the lords of this village aren't helping you, what makes you think this man in black will help?" The ex-marine asked as he emerged from the curtain after buttoning up his jeans.
"I think you're the man in black." Petr said as he tossed Ryan a white tank top, this took the trooper off guard completely.
"Whoa, hold on now. I'm certainly not the person you speak of, I crash landed near this village around thirty minutes ago." Ryan said with a bewildered expression on his face as he placed on his white tank top.
Petr handed him some dark brown, waterproof boots known as the marauders by a boot making company known as Wolverine. Ryan slid the boots on before lacing them up while the old man returned to heating up the stew for the two of them to eat.
"So, where are you from?" Petr asked as he checked on the stew.
"Pensacola, Florida. My time there didn't last long though." Ryan explained as he began to think about what happened to his parents, and not just his parents, but the whole town in general his voice sounding sorrowful.
"Why do you sound sad? I've heard it's beautiful." Petr asked, concerned for the ex-marine.
"My parents were robbed of their life when I was younger, not just my parents, but my whole family. Damn near the entire town was taken from me as well, I never seen what happened to my family, but I was told that they were dead by a friend I now know as Barlow." Ryan said as he looked towards the sky, hoping his parents were watching down on him from Heaven, and everything else he had lost.
"Damn..." Petr sighed, he could relate to Ryan, for he had to witness the whole village crumble apart as the lycans took everything, and almost everyone from him.
"I know man, shit's rough. I had to live with a group of nobodies, Barlow was one of them. Five of us, we all lived in the same town. We tried to stay with a group of survivors, but one by one they vanished when we didn't expect it, so we left when we had a chance to." Ryan added on, reminiscing about his adolescent years.
"So you five stayed together until you were adults from your teenage years, that's commendable. If that ever happened to me, I never thought we would have made it." Petr said, noticing the stew was starting to boil again.
"Yep, we were eventually picked up by the military after we all got arrested. We told the police our stories of helping, teaching ourselves as well. Barlow is the oldest one among us all, so he was our adult for a while until we all grew up. When we trained together in the military, Malosi gave us the name the Forgotten Ops, as we were the members of the lost survivors of that event in Pensacola, forgotten about over time." Ryan explained.
"Then what?" Petr asked as he poured some stew into a bowl for Ryan, and then one for himself.
I was sent to Afghanistan to fight in the middle east served two tours, thankfully I came back alive. Then we came here after hearing about lycans, then we got a few missions in...and everything fell apart. I lost them all in one failed mission, as far as I know of. I've been living in the wilderness for ten years after that day, and now I'm here." Ryan finished up his story, one filled with tragedy and complications.
"You're a brave man, Mr. Miles. To have survived so much, God must truly be on your side." Petr said with a comforting smile as he took a spoonful of that delicious beef stew, blowing on it to cool it down before placing it into his mouth.
"I know he is, in a way I think he has lead me here for some reason, so I can help deliver you all from the evil ones that plague this village." Ryan replied, not seeing the dark shadow pass over the table, and suddenly stop.
The look on Petr's face said it all, he quickly stood up, darting over to grab his shotgun. His movements were erratic, and wild. As if he was desperate to get the gun, Ryan stood up, alarmed at what was going on.
"Petr, what is happeni-" Ryan's sentence was cut off when a loud roar of a lycan was heard from the window behind him, the ex-marine turned around with a jerk to see the humanoid jerking on the gate that blocked off the window, saliva flinging from it's teeth as it roared hatefully towards the two men within this house with bloodthirsty expressions on it's hideous face.
"Shit!" Ryan cursed as he grabbed his knife, placing the first aid supplies into the pockets of his jeans.
"Oh no, they're coming..." Petr said, his voice filled with fear, shaky as he turned his head towards Ryan to see the ex-marine was only wielding a knife in his hand.
"Do you have a gun? Please tell me you have a gun, and not just that knife." The old man spoke, looking Ryan dead in the face.
"No, I didn't think I would need one in this village!" The trooper exclaimed, there was then a sudden bumping in the room over their heads, a gaping hole in the ceiling. Petr quickly aimed his shotgun towards the dark void, and then scrambled towards the closet behind the curtain, handing a firearm over to Ryan.
"Take it, it's all I can spare. Take it!" Petr cried out, Ryan accepted the offer, and held his knife in his left hand while he held the firearm with the right hand.
The two men began to look around frantically, hearing growling from all sides, and other insidious guttural noises from things that couldn't possibly be human. Petr saw a shadow cast itself on the wall, and quickly turned around, opening fire at the window to see nothing there. His heart raced a mile a minute within his chest, panicking as his whole body became hot and sweaty in this intense encounter.
The old man noticed that his shotgun was out of shells, and he quickly opened it up to slide some in.
"Petr, I am trained in this kind of stuff, I need you to-" Once more, the ex-marine's sentence was cut off when nasty arms burst from the shadows above, snatching the helpless senior citizen into them before yanking him up.
"PETR!" Ryan cried out as he reached for his legs, but it was too late...
Blood began to drip from the darkness profusely as the sickening sound of flesh ripping was heard from above him, Ryan couldn't believe it. He had lost another human that he was starting to get close with, his eyes wide and his mouth agape in disbelief as he slowly shook his head.
The soldier was caught off guard when another one of those arms burst up from the floor, grabbing him by the leg. Ryan screamed in terror as he was then pulled under, his body breaking through the wooden floor violently!
The ex-marine scrambled to all fours, looking around for wherever the lycan went. It had seemingly vanished into thin air, or it was hiding in the shadows. The first thing that Ryan noticed was the awful odor within this lower level of the house. It was filled with decaying bodies of humans that were slain by these lycans or from the cold exposure, and it also contained trash bags that hadn't been taken out due to fear of a lycan attack. The rancid stench made him want to vomit, but he kept his composure as he looked around for a way out.
From out of the shadows came the lycan in which had pulled him under, it's jaws latching around Ryan's left arm. It's jagged fangs sinking deeply into the beefy bicep of the ex-marine. Blood instantly started to ooze out of the puncture wounds made on the arm, and it quickly covered up his entire forearm from the amount he was losing!
Ryan screamed as he tried to punch, and kick at the beast, but it was no use as the humanoid ripped it's head back, tearing a huge chunk of flesh from Ryan's upper arm. The soldier screamed in agony as he couldn't bear to witness the gore that was his bicep now, blood splattering all over the place as well as pieces of muscle and bloody flesh. The pain was almost unbearable.
In his unspeakable pain, Ryan was forcefully grabbed by his shaggy, messed up beard, and viciously hurled through a wall! Smashing through the house, and rolling against a fence on the outside as the lycan emerged, swallowing down the chunk of meat it had torn straight from Ryan's left arm.
Ryan put his heavily wounded arm behind his back, holding his firearm in one hand now as he watched the mutant charge at him. It's face smashing into the fence, stunning it for a moment as Ryan was able to roll out of the way in time. He used this wisely to fire right into the side of the lycan's head twice before falling back against a trash bin, the two rounds puncturing the fiend's skull, killing it.
Now that the creature was dead, Ryan groaned through his teeth in what was the worst amount of pain he had ever felt in his life. So much so that even tears were starting to well up in his eyes. The ex-marine looking up to the sky as to try and find some kind of answer to his problems, he already fought for his life against a sum of lycans way earlier, now it seemed that he was about to do it again. Only this time it wasn't going to be about fighting back, it was about survival now...
"DAMMIT!" Ryan screamed at the top of his lungs in insane amounts of pure agony as he held his grizzly wound with his right hand. Slowly reaching into his pockets to pull out the two large rolls of gauze from the first aid kit he had took from Petr's house, using both of them to bandage up the wound, putting as much pressure on it to help stop the bleeding, blood was quick to turn the light brown gauze a crimson red.
He gathered up the courage to rise to his feet, making sure he didn't move around his left arm much so it wouldn't be put under intense pain. He held his injured arm with his other arm after sliding his firearm back into his pocket before heading back inside to get some more clothing.
Ryan rummaged through Petr's house in search of a coat, and a belt he could attach his weapons to. He found a belt with a gun holster in it, complete with a sheath that he could slide his acquired knife in and out of. The ex-marine also found a strap that he would attach the old man's shotgun to, he placed some shells inside of it to get ready for whatever awaited him outside of the house, knowing there would be plenty more lycans than just one or two.
It appeared that Petr had set up some home defenses in the form of wooden barricades that one could slide over the windows or doors, but the wood wouldn't hold off the lycans forever. Ryan hoped that it would keep them at bay while he searched for a coat to wear in this unforgiving frosty air that had fallen upon the village, even though the blizzard had passed, the chill would linger for a while afterwards, the winds would make it worse.
Ryan eventually found a leather trench coat that had a hood attached to it, colored brown. The man was slow to slide it on as he made sure to be careful, not wanting to tear the gauze from his left arm as he slid it on, providing him warmth in the harsh Winter elements.
Now it was time to fight back, with newfound determination, the ex-marine turned around to be faced by a lycan standing in the doorway much to his surprise. There was a large bag of flour next to it, the bold man drew his shotgun, and opened fire upon the bag! A white fog was quick to fill the room, momentarily blinding the lycan as Ryan made his get away through the hole in the wall.
Coming at him when he left Petr's house was two lycans, one that carried a large spiked mace, the other one carrying a machete. Ryan knew he had to act quickly, so he held his shotgun close to him with one arm as he unsheathed his knife, hurling it at the lycan holding the machete, the blade lodging itself right into the eye of the humanoid holding the larger blade, causing it to collapse to the ground in pain as it pawed at it's eye in which was now gushing blood.
That was one lycan down now, and the next one was about to swing it's mace at the head of the soldier, ready to knock his head right off his body! However, Ryan was fast as he blasted the mutant in the head at point blank with the shotgun, it's head practically exploding as it's body collapsed, dropping the mace as soon as the shell burst it's skull apart!
Ryan had an idea as a grin came to his face, he placed his shotgun back on it's strap around his back, and then picked up the mace. He looked around to see the lycan with the knife still lodged in the eye of it was getting back up to attack him with an unrelenting bloodlust. With a scream, Ryan swung around, swinging the spiked mace as hard as he could into the side of the lycan's head, forcefully throwing it against the fence with a loud thud, the chain link was heard rattling as it's body was smashed against it with great force!
Ryan kept spinning as another lycan rushed at him from behind only to be met with the same fate, having it's face smashed in by the mace, sending it falling back to the ground. The ex-marine performed one more revolution as he hoisted the mace over his head, and slammed it down hard on the lycan which he had knocked down first, crushing it's skull! Blood, and brain matter splattering everywhere.
Ryan finally released the mace, and picked his knife back up after he found it laying on the ground next to the smashed out eyeball of the dead lycan. He turned around to see the other one he had knocked down was finally starting to rise back up to it's feet, without hesitation, the ex-marine charged forward, planting his boot right into it's sternum, forcing it back to the ground with authority.
The lycan clawed at his jeans, it's sharp nails slicing through it, managing to get a couple blows in on his calf. Ryan cussed under his breath as he blew it's head apart with his shotgun, it's head exploding into a great amount of gore, and blood!
Following the death of the lycan, he examined the lacerations that the fiend had made to his right calf. The cuts weren't bad enough to cause an infection if exposed to bacteria in the air, but it was still nasty to look at, the slash marks also weren't bad enough to cause the ex-marine to bleed out, hopefully they should scar up soon, for the bandages Ryan had at the time weren't big enough for the length of the claw marks.
"This place is cursed." He said to himself as he looked to the frost covered ground of the village, blood soaking where he stood. His face was covered in blood, some droplets had been caught by his mustache and thick beard. His brown trench coat having some stains on it as well, including his white tanktop beneath, not to mention his blue jeans as well with his own blood making the insides of them a mess.
Following a deep breath, Ryan heard a loud crashing noise far to his left. Once he glanced over, he noticed that a house had imploded into an inferno. This was Luiza's house, her father having become a lycan after an attack earlier. Not only was that house in flames, but he began to notice that several others were starting to burn as well as fiery arrows rained down upon them.
With a worried expression on his face, Ryan rushed for cover. Shutting a barricade over a door behind him as he ran to the furthest corner of the building. A red barrel was sitting next to the doorway, with a yellow triangle hazard symbol on the front of it. Was this an explosive? Only one way to find out.
Ryan could hear the insidious growls of the lycans all around him, they were starting to overrun the entire village now. He wouldn't stand a chance, but he would go down fighting if he had to.
The barricade at the door began to rattle violently as a large lycan on the outside slammed it's fists into it like a man possessed while baring it's teeth at the ex-marine inside of the building. It shook again, a large wooden plank falling to the ground as it's spiked gauntlet punched through it like it was nothing after being weakened some. Ryan wielded his shotgun now as he took aim at the explosive barrel, pressing his feet into the ground as he tried to get further away from it.
The warrior watched as the wooden barricade was destroyed even further as the large lycan began to viciously rip, and tear the boards away while roaring towards him. The beast was ready to sink it's teeth into his flesh, seeing the blood soaked gauze wrapped over the entirety of his upper left arm.
With a blast from his shotgun, the barrel burst in a small ball of fire, the blast blowing out the entire wall, and killing the large lycan as well as a few others that stood outside of the wall. Part of the building collapsed before Ryan's eyes, but the roof didn't fall in on him. The large lycan that had attempted to attack him was buried underneath the charred rubble as he slowly turned around, placing the shotgun back on the strap before ascending a rusty ladder towards the top of this building.
As he scaled the ladder, Ryan heard a loud roar that was much different than these ordinary lycans. This roar was low, and it reminded him of a lion, the guttural growl being so loud that it shook the tin roof of the building he had just emerged on top of. When Ryan peeked over the side, he noticed a gigantic ogre like beast wielding a massive spiked war hammer.
This was Urias, the same brute that had singlehandedly spoiled the entire mission ten years ago in that Carpathian village. The same beast that had taken out the bell tower that Ryan had camped out in during the assault, he remembered laying under a small opening in the rubble of the bell tower that he caught a glimpse of Urias, and he watched as the Forgotten Ops were quick to surrender to him, and the horde. Now things were personal...
The eyes of the ex-marine narrowed coldly, his mouth forming a scowl, baring his teeth from anger. He knew what he was up against, and he knew that he wouldn't stand a chance if he fought the mighty Urias, but that big son of a bitch needed to pay with his life. The soldier backed up some before getting a running start, letting out a battle cry as he lunged from the top of the building down towards Urias! This was certainly a gutsy move.
However, Urias had noticed him peeking to catch a glimpse moments earlier, and had telegraphed this attack. Timing it perfectly as Ryan was within arm's length, Urias would backhand Ryan out of the air like swatting a fly, a meaty smack was heard as his giant hand smashed into Ryan's muscular body!
With a scream of both extreme pain, and one of terror as he was flying through the air following the strike, Ryan went crashing through a wall, the wind knocked out of him as he looked like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing as he desperately tried to suck in air into his lungs so he could get back up, rolling away from the wall, and onto all fours as he coughed some.
That single attack had taken all the fight out of him, after four coughs, the ex-marine rolled over to his back. He appeared lifeless although he was still among the living, his eyes glazed over as he slowly shook his head in disbelief. All of this effort just to get the shit smacked out of him in one hit, he was powerless as he was paralyzed by the pain coursing through his body. He watched helplessly as the lycans rushed for him on horseback, Urias marching towards him as well.
Ryan was ready to accept his fate, slowly closing his eyes, and not moving a muscle as he waited for the stillness to take him, for the light to flash before his eyes. However, nothing came. He slowly opened his eyes to see the monstrous form of Urias looming over him, the beast examining the ex-marine, remembering him from a decade ago, in his mind, the mutant wondered how this man had survived.
The soldier looked around at all of the other lycans who seemed to be roaring in favor of Urias, he appeared to be their leader of sorts as some of them jumped up and down like excited children on a Christmas Eve. It was as if these humanoids were waiting on him to decide the fate of their victim, Urias would rear his head into the sky, letting out a thunderous howl before performing a fantastic vertical leap onto a building, the lycan horde following after him!
He would lay there for around five more minutes, slowly gaining his strength to stand back. Feeling the icy wind blow through his spiky hair, and messed up beard. His eyes slowly turning to face the direction of the large castle that rose up in the distance, it was the only option that he felt that he had left for a shelter. This village was just as evil as the forests surrounding these mountains, he hoped that that gothic castle would keep him safe...
Ryan slowly struggled back up to his feet, his legs shakier than ever after the beating he took. First came the fight in the forest, then came his crash landing, and then the fight in this village. The cold, the battles in quick succession, and the amount of pain suffered from his scars, and injuries were more than enough to make him want to collapse. However, the will power of the ex-marine was strong, probably the strongest of all of the members of the Forgotten Ops. His determination to stay alive knew no boundaries.
Thankfully enough for him, there were no more lycans, just the sound of the icy wind blowing, and the crows cawing as they flew from the treetops. Ryan marched towards the castle slowly, the intimidating structure growing only more massive the closer he got to it. Eventually walking across a small bridge over a creek which flowed with ice cold water, entering a tunnel in which seemed to be carved into the mountain, lit by torches hanging from the ceiling.
The inside of this tunnel brought him relief as it was nice and cozy, a slight smile coming to his roughed up face as he made his way up the stairs, and into another room that contained loads of barrels stacked on top of each other against stone walls. There was also baskets of red grapes sitting next to the barrels, they must contain wine if those red items were grapes.
"I could go for a wine right about now..." Ryan groaned as he reached for a lever to open up an iron door that was in front of him so he could advance further into the castle, but little did he know that he was being followed.
"Well well." A male voice said from behind him, the voice being loud and clear enough to startle Ryan. Thank God it wasn't another lycan though, if that was to be the case, he would be screwed as he had absolutely no energy to fight anymore, not unless he took a power nap.
When he turned around, he noticed the man standing before him. This man stood out from Petr in the village, and the frozen bodies he had found in his basement. His voice sounded different as well, having a slight accent of sorts to it. The strange person also carried what appeared to be a large hammer made out of various parts of machinery, whoever it was must be super human, for a hammer like that could certainly not be wielded by an every day person's hands, even by military personnel!
The man wore a brown trench coat similar to what Ryan had taken from Petr's house, and the man also wore dark glasses. His hair was graying, and he had a beard as well, one that also shown signs of aging. It wasn't as big as the ex-marine's but close enough to give it some competition. Atop his head was a dark brown hat as well. It was none other than Karl Heisenberg!
Heisenberg had been keeping tabs on Ryan, the man of steel had traveled into the village, and was watching his struggle against the lycans from afar. This lord of the village wasn't harmed by the humanoids, as if he had some type of sovereignty hold over it. He had also followed him to this very spot of the castle.
"Your fight was very impressive, my friend." Heisenberg complimented, he appeared to be taken aback as he examined the ex-marine. Seeing how banged up the soldier was, his beard stained with lycan blood, his face having droplets of their blood all over it. His dark spiky hair was now ruined due to sweat mixed in with the mutant's blood. Ryan's trench coat being torn, and heavily wrinkled in some places. His blue jeans ripped in various parts, and his boots soaked in blood on the bottoms.
However, as battle hardened as Ryan appeared now. His facial expression would say otherwise, the ex-marine looked utterly exhausted, as if he could faint any second now if he had to exert his energy anymore in a fight for his life. He was breathing heavily as sweat ran down the side of his head, mixing in with the blood. His eyes were also half lidded, this brought a slight grin to Heisenberg's shocked expression.
"Who are you?" Ryan asked between breaths as he kept his right hand on the lever, ready to pull it down when this man would leave.
"You must be Ryan Miles, the outsider that Mother Miranda informed me about." Heisenberg replied, not answering the question of the soldier. His smile growing wider into that of a devious grin.
"Even better..."
Ryan could feel evil aura in the air surrounding this man, and it was evident by the evil grin on the man's face. The ex-marine huffed as he wielded his shotgun, ready to take aim at the man when suddenly with a flick of his wrist, several metal shards went flying his way!
A metal shard torn through the leather trench coat of Ryan, slicing through his skin before puncturing out the other side of the coat, falling to the ground. His eyes were widened in shock as he saw a led pipe flying his way! The ex-marine bashed his shotgun into the pipe, sending it smashing against the wall with a loud clang that echoed in the small room.
Another metal shard clipped through his jeans, slicing into the side of his thigh, making him wince in pain with a loud grunt. Another shard clipped the top of his left ear, taking a small chunk off of it which made him yell in agony. Heisenberg began to laugh as he sent a few more led pipes towards Ryan, who was stupefied at his powers of controlling metal objects as if he was some type of living magnet.
Ryan's pain from several shards clipping through his clothing, and cutting into his skin distracted him as one led pipe smashed into his side. Heisenberg moving his hands to control the pipe as it began to wrap around the body of the ex-marine, his right arm being pinned to his body tightly. When Ryan tried to move it, the led pipe only tightened. He had dropped the shotgun as he began to thrash around his body desperately to get free only to get nowhere.
The other led pipe clashed with the left side of his body, and began to wrap around it as well like a big snake coiling around it's prey to squeeze the life out of them. His left, injured arm was now pinned against his side, completely restraining the warrior now as he felt intense pain from the pipe putting pressure on his wounded arm in which was still covered up in gauze. He reared his head back to let out a scream of pain, Heisenberg started to laugh wickedly as he approached the helpless soldier that was at his mercy.
Pieces of metal began to stick to Ryan now, slowly covering him up like a cocoon until the only trace of him that was left was his head and neck. He screamed in terror as he tried to struggle, but the pressure being put on his arms, and sides by the led pipe restraints made it nigh impossible.
"Quit your whining!" Heisenberg taunted as a piece of sheet metal slammed against Ryan's lips, but his screams were still heard, albeit muffled. The heart within the trooper pounded like a drum as he continued to make futile efforts to get free. Several more miniature metal fragments began to encase Ryan's head from all around, soon his ears were completely covered up, and his hearing was smothered out to just mumbles. Then he could see them coming up over his eyes, his face being the only thing that wasn't covered with the exception of his mouth.
A decent sized steel plate hovered over Ryan's face a few feet off the ground after he had collapsed due to losing his footing. His body helplessly writhing around, there was no hope of escape for him now, his struggling was pointless, but the trooper didn't want to accept defeat.
"Welcome to the village, Ryan." Heisenberg said slyly as Ryan's muffled scream was heard, his eyes going wide in horror as the steel plate smashed down upon him, engulfing his entire world in darkness as the impact was enough to knock him out cold...