Night Creatures
rating: +3+x

“Hold on a sec, I think I see something,”said John, holding out his arm to block Gabriel’s movement.

Peering through needle-like raindrops, there were undead about, thumbing all around the fences' exterior. Although they were for the most part concealed by the heavy storm, John was still adept, with refined senses and was able to see them moving in the dark. Luckily none had managed to shuffle their way through the hole made earlier for the group to crawl through. John had the faintest clue to how the undead managed to get so close; perhaps it was the sound of the generator, or the lights that it turned on, or perhaps even worse is that they were followed. John did not think such creatures could be smart enough, but maybe it was not brains that bought them so close. It could have some primal instinct, slowly driving them to follow. Whatever the case they were there and John knew that he needed to be calm.

Taking a deep breath, he gestured to Gabriel to stay as low as possible, but still in a position where they could begin running with ease. crouching by the hole, they each pulled the corners further apart for a more silent exit. The old metal pulled away with ease, only creating a small whisper of noise in comparison to the battering rain. Due to the weather, the ground had become a slurry of mud and grime. It was churned up by the footsteps of the many monsters in the night. As John placed one foot through the hole, he caught the sight of a creature staggering past on a rotting leg. It paid no attention to the two, who silently watched as it went by.

With Gabriel through, the valley was to the right of them. It ran from out of the forest they had come through to get to the building. John helped Gabriel use the fence as a guide, stepping low to the ground. The pressure applied to the ground gave way to footprints in the mud, which much like the night creatures, attempted to consume them into the earth.

The valley came suddenly, as the darkness distorted the land's form, with John stumbling, grasping at the mud for grip. Along with Gabriel, both slid into a mesh of barbed wire. John found his hand wrapped in a heap of it, hissing at the pain. Gabriel was quick to free pliers from his bag, but the noise of displaced mud and the sound of rattling wire attracted the undead to begin toppling down the valley. Some slid beside them, too weak to get up or too tangled to move. Some produced short gravely sounds, as John used his free hand to swing a combat knife at the creatures around him. Gabriel cut the wires loose, freeing them both to quickly move around the mesh. The approaching onslaught, forced them both to leap over a pile of bursted, wet sandbags.

They found themselves in the ruins of a defensive perimeter, with the sandbags forming a central position for the unfortunate souls who once guarded this place. The sand wall was collapsed on the other side, with the corpse of a soldier in its place. John recognised the UK's flag on the soldiers uniform.

Military powers had concentrated their forces from all across the globe to combat where the disease was most prevalent. Prospect was the remnant of those powers, beaten to a pulp by unholy forces. The base had seen many militaries, few still remaining in this world to fight, but John had a feeling deep down. A feeling that some kind of future was possible. A feeling that one day the people would be free. Back home with their families.

John had never gotten a chance at a family, thrust into a dying waste looking for any semblance of a satisfying existence, but to seemingly no avail. Maybe it was yet to happen, he thought. Maybe the time had already passed. All he knew now was the war.

John pulled the soldier from the wall, taking few supplies before exiting the sandbag perimeter. Creatures were now crawling over the bags, falling into mounds of sprawling hunger.

Finding a narrow gap in the barbed wire, both could now ascend up the valley's other side. It was a steep climb, not aided by the soil that gave way under their hands. Their wills stayed strong however and both prevailed at the task, heaving themselves over to flat land.

The grass was much thicker, much denser, much more healthier.

It was lucky not to be touched by the hordes which now gathered at the bottom of the valley, unable to scale its slippery walls. John watched the moving masses with hate. A fire built up in his eyes, like he could spew magma fourth on top of them. He looked at their vacant, degenerate faces, thinking how he would die a happy man if given the chance to beat every single one to a pulp.

They were the ones responsible for the deaths of every soldier that fought against the disease. All the soldiers that were consumed in the turmoil and hunger of this new life. A life of man eaters and wretched ecosystems that reclaimed a world once dominated by man.

That would have to wait, as Gabriel lifted his teammate up from the ground.

Like what they saw from the building's rooftop, here stood a bunker of sorts, that was mostly situated beneath the Earth. Besides, it was the vehicle they had been looking for.

"Check for the keys" John ordered, which Gabriel did so.

The vehicle's front passenger side was open. Upon reviewing the car's interior, no keys could be found. John assumed that whoever inside it had left but did not return. In the bunker perhaps.

A metal door had been busted open revealing a short staircase down into a main room, which held the remains of another soldier. This time it was one with a Prospect symbol. What had killed him though John was unsure of, however, after checking his pocket revealed a set of car keys. John threw it up the stairs to Gabriel.

Before he left, John looked around the room. In the darkness he hadn't noticed, but now with adjusted eyes, he could make out faint markings. Words even, written in a dry red fluid.

"What did you do to my hands?" John repeated the words to himself.

Must be the markings of a madman he thought, but was this the case. Looking at the soldier's body once more, John peeled the bloody gloves off the corpse. Just as the writing said, the cadavers' fingernails appeared distorted, ingrown into sharp bloody talons.

"C'mon, they're beginning to get up here!" Shouted Gabriel.

Without a second thought he ran up the stairs into the opened passenger door. Gabriel twisted the key.

Nothing.

Gabriel twisted it again.

Still nothing.

"I'll push the car" Said John as he opened up to an incoming horde.

With all his might, he pushed and pushed. His legs dug deep into the mud. He remembered everything that had been taken from him, everyone that he never got a chance to say farewell to. The rage built and built, along with the adrenaline that pounded his chest. The car gave way, and it buzzed to life. John swatted away the approaching undead, getting back into his seat.

The crowd that once prevented them from going around the short valley had now filtered into the trough. Now unable to escape the valley, John and Gabriel could return peacefully. Although time would eventually allow the undead to find a new way around, so they would still have to rush to get everyone and everything into the car.

With this car, Poland was only a few short days away.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License