The dim light filtered through the shattered glass ceiling, illuminating the dust-choked air of the abandoned industrial complex. General Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger wiped the fresh blood from his combat knife, the blade still warm from the slaughter of the undead horde. His red beret was tilted forward, casting a shadow over his hardened features. His muscles, taut with battle tension, pulsed with the bio-serum coursing through his veins.
Across from him, Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook adjusted his rifle strap. His breathing was steady, his sharp gaze scanning the remnants of the battlefield. Spent bullet casings littered the steel grating beneath them, mixing with the rotting corpses of Kruger's latest victims.
"That was a damn lot of them," Rook muttered, reloading his weapon. "Plague Mistress must be playing with the numbers again."
Kruger scoffed. "Let her. The more she throws at me, the stronger I get."
But Rook wasn't convinced. "You don't look like a man in control."
Kruger tightened his grip on the knife. The whispers had started again—the dark voices from the bio-serum infusion. His senses were razor-sharp, his instincts screaming for more blood, more carnage. But he gritted his teeth and buried the hunger.
He would not become a mindless beast.
A loud clang echoed through the factory.
Both men snapped into a defensive stance, weapons raised. From the far side of the ruined structure, a figure emerged from the shadows.
A hulking monstrosity of flesh and steel.
It was once a soldier, now twisted by Dr. Sylvia "Plague Mistress" Voss's twisted experiments. Its mutated muscles bulged, grotesque metallic implants grafted into its limbs. Its left arm had been replaced with a serrated blade, the right a massive hydraulic claw, hissing as it flexed.
The creature growled, a deep, inhuman sound.
A reanimated war machine.
"Well, that's new," Rook said, adjusting his aim.
Kruger cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. The hunger rose again.
And this time, he didn't fight it.
With inhuman speed, Kruger lunged forward, dodging a massive swipe from the monster's blade-arm. Steel shrieked against steel as he parried with his knife, twisting mid-air to drive his boot into the creature's face.
Rook opened fire, unloading explosive rounds into its metallic plating, sending sparks and blood flying.
But the beast did not fall.
It roared, a sound that shook the walls, and charged.
Kruger barely dodged as the claw-arm lashed out, tearing through steel beams like paper. He rolled, springing up behind the monster, his knife already plunging into the base of its skull.
The creature shuddered.
Kruger stood over the corpse, breathing hard, his knife dripping red.
Rook exhaled. "We need to talk about whatever the hell you're becoming."