The midday sun hung low, casting golden rays over the ruined village. Smoke curled from the remnants of burned-out huts, and the stench of rotting flesh filled the air. General Viktor 'Bloodfang' Kruger stood amidst the carnage, gripping his combat knife, its serrated edge gleaming with fresh blood.
The battle was over, but the slaughter had only begun.
Around him, the corpses of resistance fighters lay sprawled, their weapons useless against the monstrous force that had torn through them. A lone survivor, a young soldier, coughed violently as he crawled away, his leg twisted unnaturally. His wide, terror-filled eyes locked onto Kruger.
"P-please…" he gasped, blood dribbling from his lips. "Don't—"
Kruger didn't hesitate. With one brutal motion, he drove his blade deep into the man's throat, silencing him instantly. The soldier's body convulsed before going limp, his lifeless gaze fixed on the sky.
"Mercy is for the weak," Kruger muttered, pulling the knife free.
Behind him, Sergeant Darius 'Hellhound' Rook chuckled darkly, reloading his shotgun. "You never get tired of the hands-on approach, do you, General?"
Kruger wiped the blood from his blade, unfazed. "A blade never runs out of ammunition."
Further ahead, Eva 'Black Widow' Morales crouched near the remains of a resistance fighter, turning over his gear with delicate precision. "They weren't just ordinary survivors," she mused. "These men were organized. Armed. Someone's been training them."
Kruger's gaze darkened. He had suspected as much. The rats were becoming bold.
A distant scream shattered the moment. It came from the village outskirts, near an old wooden shack. Without a word, Kruger advanced toward the sound, his squad following close behind.
Inside the shack, a resistance officer was pinned against the wall, his arms bound with makeshift rope. His uniform was tattered, and his face was bruised, but there was fire in his eyes. He glared at Kruger with unshaken defiance.
"You think you're unstoppable, monster?" the officer spat, blood trickling from his mouth. "The world will rise against you. You're nothing but a dead man walking."
Kruger merely tilted his head. Then, with cold precision, he drove his knife into the officer's gut and twisted.
Kruger leaned in, his voice as calm as ever. "The world has already fallen. You just haven't accepted it yet."
The officer gasped, his strength fading. Kruger withdrew the blade, watching the life drain from his enemy's eyes before he collapsed.
Kruger wiped the blood from his blade and turned to his squad. "Burn the rest. No survivors."
The flames soon engulfed the village, consuming the last remnants of resistance. As the inferno raged behind them, Kruger and his squad marched forward, searching for the next battlefield.
The undead army would not stop.