"Mattie! Don't fall behind lad! Keep going!" I shout, the younger boy was losing stamina and his footfalls became heavier and loud, his large Winchester model wearing him down even more, especially since the bloody thing was useless, entirely empty. The mud suckled our boots; coaxing us to rest a while, perhaps even swallow us into the earth. In all honesty, being pulled down into the mud was such a seductive choice between getting eaten alive or clawed to bits. From what I saw, getting eaten corresponded with becoming one of them bloody monsters. To be human one minute, then preying on human flesh the next made my skin crawl. Why didn't they just eat themselves, or perhaps each other? That would save us a ton of trouble. But no, what I could understand from it, they wanted fresh carnage. They knew once the victim passed over into their realm, their bodies stank of decay and rot.
My thoughts were cut off as I slipped, sliding over the slicked ground on my face and chest, mud entering my mouth and nose. It smelled like death and tasted as bitter as a corpse. I spat up the vile grime, my knees and hands sinking deeper into the muck. Fingers yanked urgently on my forearm, pleading for me to stand and continue on.
"A-Arthur," he whispered, still jerking me to my feet. I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, but we both froze when we heard the labored pants and the sloshing footsteps in the mud. Transferring the mud over my eyes to my shirtsleeve, I could barely make out the form of a dog lumbering towards us, more like stalking. The smell of the beast made my stomach flip, it was worse than the humans. As it made its way closer, I could make out maggots feasting on the rotting meat of its left haunch and the open wound around the creature's neck, still fresh and oozing blood and pus. Its eyes glowing a hellish red, I had originally thought these monsters were legends to scare foreigners and small children. I cowered at the sight of the real thing.
"That's no dog, it's a fucking Hell Hound."
Hearing my voice, it growled, giving a glorious view of its bloodstained jaws and blackened teeth. If the body stank, the breath was a hundred thousand times worse. Nothing like the smell of rotting organs on top of a gaseous swamp in the middle of Europe to make one's morning. I raised my Sten, backing slowly away. I didn't have many rounds left due to the humanoid beings we had ran into, but if it came to it, I would rather die than sacrifice Matthew.
"Get behind me lad," I whisper, herding him with the inside of my elbow. He shook so bad, I regretted ever getting him involved in this affair. He and Alfred were my cousins, and now I brought them into this hell. The beast snarled once more, pulling back like a snake before lunging forward, clearing the distance between us in two bounds. I didn't think, only aimed and fired, the barrel of the gun lighting up like a firecracker. Regardless, I found myself on the ground, the hound gnashing its jaws a mere three inches from my nose, the only thing keeping it away being my submachine gun, the body pressed against the monster's jugular. All I could think of was Mattie. Where was Matthew? The stench of its breath nearly made me keel over right then, but fear drove me as it does any man. My arms were becoming weak, however, and I seriously began doubting my survival as the giant paws tore at my uniform and flesh. The mud was closing in around my head and I knew that I was no blonde anymore, the muck coating the locks in a thick black. What the fuck was I doing thinking about my hair! I was under a giant, maggot-eaten dog that wanted nothing more than to rip my face off and I'm worried about appearance.
Saliva dribbled down onto my face, red with whatever blood and bile that coated the creature's mouth. "Matthew, get out of here!" I shouted blindly, not knowing if he was there at all or had actually abandoned me. For some reason, I didn't know which was worst. My ears were deaf to all but the snarls of the hound and my own pulse beating through my veins at an alarming rate. I just about gave up when another sound protruded my thoughts: The sound of a gun cocking back
The weight on my gun suddenly increased with the explosion of bone fragments and brain matter that rained down on my face, bitter blood slipping between my parted lips as I panted from exertion. While the force was gone, the dead weight was more than enough to make my arms go on strike, the corpse bleeding out on my khaki uniform. I wasn't dead; the stink of blood and decay that suddenly reached an all time high ensured that much. But I was shaking, I didn't even notice until I started pushing against the hound, my muscles twitching.
"Arthur!" Matthew cried out, helping me removed the body.
"Keep your voice down mon ami, these creatures are blind so sound is the only thing that guides them," another voice whispered. A voice I could distinctly remember. I frantically clawed my way through blood and muck before breaking free and scrambling to my feet. There he was, holding a MAS 36, his blue eyes scanning the area warily before they rested on my green. They widened in surprise and shock, because he never thought we'd see again, or because of how downright horrendous I looked right at the moment, gore and mud covering my face and fair hair. I had thought he was dead when he hadn't returned four months ago. I suddenly clicked two seemingly unrelated subjects together. This isn't something new, it's been like this for a while.
I opened my mouth, only to have him speak first, "I'll explain everything as soon as I can, but here is not the place and time." A howl in the distance sent shivers down our spines, our attention momentarily taken away from each other. Matthew and I glanced at each other warily, whereas the Frenchman with his grime-filled blonde hair seemed more at ease, though only through familiarity. "Follow me," he commanded, "I have some friends nearby."
Sadly I picked up his hushed undertone of, "If they are even still alive."
A/N: Should I not have any pairings and keep it an all out blood bath? ^^;