A squad of Hardened fusiliers, covered by the Snow in their frozen fox holes.
The biting cold chills them to their very core, more than the fear visible on their faces.
The cold is unnatural like the foes that stalk them.
A streak of yellow, fast as it is silent , they are here
A group of Hybrids searching as the snow melts around their very feet,
the Fusiliers now see them, some cower and some stay true.
The Lieutenant gives the signal to , fear melts away replaced by anger and bravery glowing bright in the hearts of men.
The snap of a blank, a second later,
A Hybrid turns to a stain against the snow, as a Rifle grenade impacts the creature
two mosins clap and two rounds hitting the second hybrid's cooling pack as both tubes snap
The creature howls and screams as it shrivels and rives on the ground.
The third hybrid dives to the left but not fast enough as with perfect precision a mosin round penetrates its elbows and knees, with each shot making a disgusting sound of bones breaking.
With the creature screeching a loud wail it fell limp to the ground.
It's strange weapon dropping to the ground melting the snow around it.
The fusiliers seem to emerge from the seamlessly infinite forests of Siberia, Each of them have either a big grin or a concerned look.
As some stare into the forest paranoia starts gripping their minds like a vice tightening its hold on a round casing. While the others pull teeth from the grotesque creatures as trophies,one of the men slings the bullseye on his back.
The lieutenant with his guard approach the still alive hybrid,
a sawn off shotgun seeming to appear out of thin air in the captain's hand, the captain aimed for the creature's arms and with several blasts echoing from the weapon the chimera screams with an extremely high pitch blood spewing from the creature's mouth
It's arms now nothing more than mangled stumps.
A trench raider steps forward, a mace coming from the side sending the creatures lower jaw in to the forest
As Both guards bring down axes on the creature's thighs depriving the hybrid of any form of escape, grins plaster their faces while doing this.
The hybrid trying to scream as its voice box as been mangled from how much the creature tried to scream out against the injustice life has gave it
The company surgeon goes to his knees and looks at the creature as he makes the cut with a scalpel to cut the creature's windpipe and voice box rendering it mute with four shots of morphine making the creature limp.
The fusiliers throw the body parts into the fox holes burning them as they tie ropes to the nugget of a hybrid and drag it off into the taiga.
snow covers the holes and conceals the blood stains.
With the forest once again looking white and pure as if nothing had ever happened.