The air turned frigid as the corpses jolted to life. A grotesque symphony of bones cracking and joints snapping echoed through the dining hall. The figures—once lifeless—now twitched, their hollow eyes glowing faintly as if possessed by a sinister force.
"Targets are up!" Rook shouted, raising his rifle. "Light 'em up!"
Ghost fired first. His rounds tore through the nearest corpse, splintering it into dust, but two more lurched forward. Bulwark unleashed his shotgun, the blast sending a corpse tumbling backward into the rotting banquet table, but it only staggered before crawling toward him on all fours.
"They're fast!" Bulwark grunted, reloading.
"Adjust fire!" Rook barked. "Aim for the heads!"
The team repositioned, creating a firing line. Viper moved like a shadow, his twin knives carving through the undead in quick, fluid motions. "I hate dinner parties," he muttered, spinning to slice through a lunging corpse.
As the last shot rang out, the dining hall fell silent again. The BTO team stood amidst the carnage, the once-grand hall now covered in dust and ash. Ghost swept the area, his voice tight. "All clear—for now."
"Those things weren't zombies," Viper muttered, wiping his knives. "Too coordinated. Too deliberate."
Rook glanced at the corpses—now little more than skeletal remains scattered across the floor. "This isn't random. Someone—or something—is controlling them."
Before they could regroup, Shadow's voice crackled over the comms. "Command, this is Shadow. We have a situation outside."
"Report," Rook responded, moving toward the window.
Shadow's voice held a rare edge of tension. "More movement near the gardens. I'm counting multiple heat signatures. Whatever's out here isn't human."
Rook clenched his jaw, turning to the team. "We don't have time to sit around. Ghost, Bulwark—secure the main floor. Viper, you're with me. We're backing up Shadow."
The team split up, moving with precision through the crumbling manor. Rook and Viper descended the staircase and burst through the front door, weapons ready. The once-empty gardens were alive with movement—dozens of shadowy figures emerging from the fog, stumbling forward with unnatural purpose.
Viper cursed under his breath. "We've got a horde."
Rook's comms buzzed as Shadow's voice cut in. "I've taken position in the bell tower. Covering fire incoming."
The first shot rang out, a sniper round tearing through the fog and dropping one of the creatures. Rook raised his rifle and unleashed a hail of bullets, cutting through the advancing horde.
"Fall back to the manor entrance!" Rook ordered, his voice steady despite the chaos.
The team moved as a unit, picking off the undead as they retreated. The creatures grew closer, their guttural moans reverberating through the night air. One lunged for Viper, its clawed hand just inches away before Rook dropped it with a headshot.
Reaching the steps, Rook turned, breathing hard as he surveyed the carnage. "This isn't an isolated attack. Someone wanted us here."
Shadow's voice came through, grim and certain. "Sir, I think we walked into a trap."
And from deep within the fog, a distant, chilling growl replied.