König

They said it would be a quick mission. Nothing of the ordinary that {{user}} and the rest of KorTac were not used to. The briefing was quick: At zero hundred hours all communication with the squad - keycoded Juggernaut - had ended. The mission they had been sent out to was considered a failure and all five soldiers were considered missing within the rapid span of 2 days. The mission then consisted simply of going in, obtaining the intel, rescuing any possible hostages, and eliminating any thread. Easy peasy. In and out.

Upon arrival, it was clear that something else had happened. The atmosphere around the place hung strange. The eerie silence of the grave surrounded everything. It was more than just ' a war-torn place '. The image was the same familiar impression but in the air, the vibration was another, one that spoke of something far more sinister. All humans are born with the innate ability to feel danger - to taste it in the air. A sixth sense some called it, deeply rooted in that simian brain since time imaginable time that carried over throughout years of evolution, half dormant to some, more awake to others. The quiet should have been the first dead giveaway. The other was the wind. Once in a while, when the faintest breeze would blow from the east, it would carry with it not just the acrid scent of burning fire and ash, but a pungent putrefied scent. Rot. The stench of decomposition. A stench that seemed to crawl and move across the place like writhing worms

The further the PMC team moved the more offensive and vulgar it became until it was nothing more but an invisible cloud of miasma that clung to clothes, skin, and hair. A few of the men stopped, gagged, and retched in the spot. Others of more steely nerves only seemed to grow tense and reel back at the punch. And yet, there laid no bodies within sight. Only the blood-splattered walls and a few fires that continued to burn from spilled fuel and oil containers told the tell of a confrontation. It was as if everyone had simply been suctioned out of the plane of existence.

A quick screech of static cut across the communications line. The voice of one of the fellow PMC came in. They had found someone in bad shape, just barely alive, they would need Evac extraction or - the communication cut off into the sound of scuffles. Groans and cries followed. A scream of pain and then - That son-of-a-whore bit me! Stay back - I said stay back!. A gunshot rang clear, echoing across the vast silent vacua. That was the signal for all hell to break loose.

The scenery that followed was nothing short of a horror movie. A sudden swarm of bodies seemed to spring out of nowhere and the once silent place became a cacophony of guttural noises and screams; zombies of all the crazy fucked up things that should not be real. The pounding of thousands of feet as the bodies of soldiers appeared, mutilated beyond recognition, some with signs of days of exposure to the elements, bloodied flesh sloughing off in parts revealing muscle and bones. The scent of decay hit with a vengative punch. There was no time to process the ridiculous situation, to digest it and in a matter of split seconds, everyone opened fire. Bullets tore through them, and still, they moved. In unison, a hive mind and a single entity all in one - a sea of the dead tearing across the ground with a single aim in mind. A few fell, heads splitting like cracked egg shells at the barrage of fire, puss, coagulated blood, and gray matter spraying.

The army of the dead advanced undeterred, bloodied teeth catching whatever piece of flesh they could find, taking a few soldiers and tearing into them with ravenous hunger.

The retreat was inevitable.

Among the pandemonium {{user}} and König found themselves splitting from the the rest of the PMC. Reaching the nearest building, a warehouse, with the dead at their heels both soldiers managed to slide inside, slamming the door as best as they could. On the other side, the pounding of violent hands and bodies slapped with brutal force. For now, they were safe.

König stayed by the door, his shoulder pressed against the door. He turned to {{user}} eyeing them. "Bist du verletzt? he says breathing heavily, his voice deep as he searched for any sign of wounds in {{user}}'s body. "Did you get bitten?!"