"Where are they coming from! Ivy shouts as her handgun reacts to the pounding bullet pushing through it.
"They were always there, we just didn't see them when we came in. They were following us the whole time, we just didn't know it. I have a feeling that all of this excitement will lead our BOW straight to us. " His gripping hand grasps one by the collar of its shirt and heaves its limp feet towards him. His neck bobbles back, conveying the resting weight with it, and passing on the weight into the soft head of the zombie, Hunk's thick helmet depressing the creature's skull, sending the breaking casing into its brain. "Just take your time and watch your surroundings, take as many of them out before help arrives!"
Only the sharp tip of Hunk's knife glinted, the rest trickled with sticky blood. It laid waiting in his hand, the only defense that he choose against the spilling out of even more zombies that followed their brethren. The remain zombies that wondered the forest had gathered in one spot, ranging over thirty over that clawed and crawled over each other, trying to get to the only live meat in the woods, Hunk and Ivy.
Ivy's right leg boosted through the air, smacking with the brittle ribs of a fumbling zombie that closed in on her, as the impact rides the dead being to the ground, its head expressing to the sky, her handgun shoves a bursting bullet through its nose and breaking out the top of its head with a show of crispy red chucks.
They seemed to becoming out of the trees themselves, as more shifted from behind the trunks of them. Hunk just knew that it was too quiet, knowing that the Arkalay Lab housed over a three hundred employees and as well as all of the murders that had been happening in the city, that the five small groups of zombies that they saw where just the ones that had escaped the mass. Now they faced only a small fraction of that collection, but it was more than enough to cause them trouble, but it wasn't a mission for Hunk, unless there was a little difficulty in it.
Dry and dead leaves perched on the ground rustled with rippling thuds that wafted through the Arkalay Mountains like nothing before. It was muffled thunder incased in oversized boots. They were empty, but deafening, belonging to a giant that fell from the sky. Though it was an oddity to be seen by normal eyes, it as a being of mass production by the hands of Umbrella. Code-named, T-0400, a product of their Tyrant series, their most successful one to date. It obeyed their commands like a child, but it got its work done efficiently. It had been programmed for two things, wipe out all infected and protect the Umbrella Special Forces. It was a tool to their using.
A screaming face bathes at the treading Tyrant, a lingering Hunter enjoying its field day doing what it does best, killing. Even though it was hunched below the Tyrant by three feet, it had no remorse on facing it. Its fingers constrict, bracing its claws as its arm shelves itself horizontally. The Hunter's robust leg muscles jiggle before they spring the bottling mass into the air.
The Tyrant stood idle, arms to the side, its body craved like moving stone. As the Hunter descends, its lacerating claws edging closer to the Tyrant's chest, it's gloved left hand rackets into the Hunter's strut. The built force peels away skin and bone, wrenching the Hunter's body into two halves; a still wailing upper half and a useless lower half.
The two half of the Hunter globs against the dirt floor with its dispensing stomach, most of the contents being lost as it hits the ground. The lower half is flung away from sight, hitting a tree several yards away.
Sparking nerves cause multiple spasms through the Hunter's upper body, trauma from the unpinned abdomen that was soon becoming a hollow husk. The Tyrant still saw the signs of the T-virus infection roaming through the creature's blood; then its mission still wasn't finished with the subject. A gargantuan foot pods down onto the Hunter's block shaped head, easily pressing through the skull and brains, letting the Tyrant's foot feel stable ground under it. The spasms stop.
Attracted by the brutal undoing of the Hunter, the infected Grizzly Bear confronts the lumbering tower, bearing a fair fight with it. Weaving saliva prongs from the bear's piercing teeth, the bits of spit blotting light against the olive green leather of the trench coat of the Tyrant's. Marble laced eyes just stare mildly back at the active beast.
The titanic bear tilts its weight on to its hind legs, directing its height up, matching that of the Tyrant's. It's abundantly corded clawed paws thrust against the Tyrant's burly, the bouncing burden of its immense power off it. The Tyrant's feet grapple into the ground, jaunting the power of the bear through its tighten muscles. The Tyrant doesn't even falter from the force; instead it lets it travel through its rising arm as it strings it back. Like a hanging log, the Tyrant's arm plunged into the seeping flesh of the bear's face. The bear's cranium deforms around the Tyrant's pressing knuckles as they mend through the caving bone and protein. Forehead, eyes, and mouth meld into a thicken paste of yellowish red fluid, bits of teeth rafting in the streaming liquid as it ran down the rest of the dead animal's nose. Tipping weight hurtle the standing form of the bear tilting to the soil in a harsh thud.
The Tyrant's roaming foot splashes in the puddle of what is left of the grizzly bear's head, stepping passed it as just another dead infected, it's mission far from over.
Disconcerting fragile bones resound from a zombie's neck, as Hunk turns its held head, cascading its body to the ground as another takes its place. Cold, gray slipping fingers glide over Hunk's visor as they grasp from some type of hold. Hunk clutches the zombie's hand and uses it as a rope to pull the dead mass closer to him, as his other hand plunges the steel tip of the knife into the temple of it.
"We have to fall back, there is no way that we can beat all of them with small arms fire." Ivy rattles from her jumbled mouth as she shoves an advancing cluster of three zombies away from her, as their arms ring around her.
"Do it if you need to, but no matter where we go, it will be the same." His words ride with his leg that cracks with the padded chest of a zombie, fumbling it back into the horde of nothing more even rushing flesh.
"I'll try to lead them away from you." She diverts from the wading bodies that seep through the trees, hastening her body to the right into more dense area, but one free of zombies. The rampant pack splits their paths, some remain clustered around Hunk, slowly surrounding him in their reaching arms, and the others lurch and shift with exhausted sprints towards Ivy.
Ivy takes the ease of the run, letting her heart rest from its nailing even as she jogs. She knew that the mission was going to end soon, she could feel it and she knew that Hunk could to. Hunk told her that every mission that he had ever been on, it always ended in deathful situation that he always overcome, but always came back alone and this was one of them was exactly ones of those situations. Ivy just hoped that she would be the one that would break Hunk's 'only survivor record'.
Her thoughts jumped ahead of her. A dreadful shriek, like a vicious ghostly animal chimed in front of her. "HUNK! HUNK! It's here! "The Subject!"
It was a grief of hope, one that she was wishing for, but one that she was dreading. They had finally found what their mission had called for and could end it right here and now, but here came the hard part.
Huddled under her flickering infra goggles, Ivy's eyes came clear over what she saw before her. Its structure was of a human shape, legs, torso, arms and head, some features suggested that it could or once was female. The being couldn't have stood more than five feet as most zombies towered over its hunched state. Its body was shelled in what looked like a dress, but over the years it resembled more of a burlap sack, colored grayish brown and with rips and tears littered all over it. Across its legs and arms, bruises and lacerations corrupted them. The once woman's ankles were shackled, the metal teethed with rust, but they still held strong. Its wrists were locked in a wooden plank, something that looked like a medieval beheading restraint. The oddity's face was hooded by hanging skin and two empty faces, one roosting on its shoulder and the other resting on its chest, the eye sockets reserved in surprise, even without the add of an actual eye there. The mouths just drooped limply, stretching further than they would have ever gone if they remained attached. The faces were nothing more than a mask, human skin that had been peeled away and was being worn by its new owner. She was the creature of torment.
Ivy held her MP5 like trophy, drumming her finger on the trigger, as her head rolled around her neck, getting her ready for the hard fight. A vaporous screech blusters from the creature's mouth as her shackled arms linger above her head.
"Don't scream at me you, bitch.' Her words were flamed into the burst of dispensing bullets that chimed from her gun.
The womanly thing's mass tickled with the impacting bullets, popping with packets of blood. A jerking scream came from her maw, horrible and fitful. Her constrained ankles wobbled with picking speed, as she charged at Ivy.
The barrel of the gun cooled and sizzled with the still remaining smoke that mused through its muzzle, the rest of the bullets already feed through it. With her gun empty, Ivy hurtled herself towards the blistering monster. Revolving wind coils around Ivy's body as it turns around in place, her leg lifting like a rising crane. With grace, her foot pots into the beast's nose, the connecting impact flipping it on to its back. Ivy ladders her weight on to the down creature's body, walking across it like a bridge. Her fingers already plastered to the handle of her handgun, pointing the barrel in the middle of the masks.
Ivy lets her eyes strain away from her prisoner, "Hunk, bring the canisters. I've got her pinned."
As her head pans back, her neck stiffens severely, air being siphoned from her lungs by something alien. Ivy's eyes bluster with pain as she shuts them. Her hand creeps to her neck, her gloved fingers roving over something sticky and tube shaped, encircling about her throat. She has enough movement to turn her view on to her prisoner. From the blank eye sockets and mouths, five pale purplish tentacles wandered their new surroundings. With a free touch, one of them graces around Ivy's waist, and two others around her wrists. Her arms are jolted around their joints as the tentacles yanks at them.
"Hunk….Please help me…."
A building, horrendous shriek weaves through the creature's body before all of her strength and pressure is applied to her multiple appendages. Splintering skin and bone minced, as it was cleavered from the body. Ivy's stomach came unstapled, as a pressing tentacle grated through soft toned organs and slipping flesh. Her arms were pried from the balling joints that they perched on. Driving weight tittered Ivy head as it slump off her shoulder and chafed down her chest.
Hunk's eyes narrowed deeply, Ivy's death bothered him, but the mission always came first. Mr. Death was once again the only one that survived.
