The chopper, as stealthily as it may have been in the way it was maneuvered, pierced through the night with its battering, rotating blades and lights the size of human heads. It hovered over the thick vegetation of the Arkley forest, looking almost as if it were plagued with the green of moss and decomposure under the nightly scenery.

It came up to an opening and lowered, but stopping at a decent height only, seeming to have no initiative to land at all. On the chopper, heavy metal doors were pryed open from the insides, left and right, and half a dozen cables dropped out of the opening, their tips limply hitting the ground. Six dark and clunky figures soon swiftly slid down those cables and gathered into a formation.

Most of them were equiped with large firearms while a few others carried smaller ones. Their uniforms and weapons glinted from the rays of the sickly pale moonlight. One of the figures made a hand-signal towards the pilot of the helicopter and the airborn vehicle began drifting away, the sound of its loud engines, fading into the distance, deserting the six figures in the opening of the forest.

"Bravo team, let's move in." The calm voice crackled into life in Rebecca's earphones and she nodded reflexively, knowingly perfectly well that no one saw her.

In a tight formation, they began running towards the Spencer Mansion which was roughly a mile away in a straight line. The entire goal of landing so far was to be able to move in undetected.

Rebecca, beneath her heavy suit, all the belts and backpack took a deep breath. The Bravo team had always been the 'minor' team amongst the S.T.A.R.S. - Special Tactics And Rescue Service - because whenever there was major trouble around, it was always the Alpha team that got sent out. Maybe they were finally getting the big break they deserved.

They all started jogging, keeping their distances with one another tight. Between them and the mansion was a large field of overgrown grass and weeds, most of their lengths outgrew their tallest member's waist height. They entered the field, their boots landing softly yet firmly on the ground at regular intervals.

It's like entering a swamp or going under water, Rebecca thought, feeling how the thick greens were actually countering their fowards pace with slight resistance.

The wind was surprisingly calm this evening, making their lives less difficult while going through the field. Rebecca was the one before last in the line, though she had no trouble keeping up, she still felt awkward within the rank. She dared not look elsewhere save from forward, where she saw the other four members of the team, and hearing the footsteps of the remaining one behind her.

Shuffling sounds came from left and right but the six agents disregarded them for a while, thinking it originated from them. Until it started growing in volume and density, almost as if multiple things were closing in on them. The captain ordered a halt as Rebecca and the others looked around them. She frowned underneath her night-vision goggles.

"What was that?!" She suddenly heard one of the men cry, snapping her head towards that direction.

She unfortunately couldn't see what the man was referring to before he started firing. Surprised gasps resounded in her earphones as she saw the other two starting to fire into the dark as well.

"What the hell's going on?! Cease fire!!" The captain ordered, but either no one heard, or no one heeded.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Came a scream filled with terror as Rebecca snapped her head the other way, seeing in the dark a large piece fly off one of the men, way too big for it to be part of his gear.

Oh my god...

The man then looked as if he tripped and crashed to the ground, throat still full of a gurling scream before it was abruptly cut short.

Doing her duty as the medic, Rebecca shuffled her way towards where he fell only to find an empty spot occupied by a tiny puddle of dark liquid and the man's semi-automatic. Was it blood? Following the drag lines with her gaze, she saw a gap in the grass, as if something had passed there. A wave of paralysis and shivers crawled through her body.

Another shrilling cry coming from one of the men and he dropped to the ground too. Rebecca's eyes widened, but she knew if she went, she would find the same thing she just did.

"To the mansion! On the double!" The captain said, yelling into the microphone.

She didn't wait to be told twice.

The four remaining soldiers sprinted across the field, caring very little for stealth and more for their own safety. Rebecca ran so fast, she couldn't believe herself going at that pace, and adrenaline made it almost impossible to feel the strain in her leg muscles. Yet as fast as she went, it didn't seem fast enough. It would've been so much easier if the lawn was mowed but she didn't have time to complain.

They soon reached the front of the brightly lit Spencer mansion as one of the man ripped the night goggles and the mask off his face. He yanked at the door knob but couldn't get it to open.

"Get out of the wait!" The captain shouted as he riddled the lock with his semi and kicked the door open.

Once again, Rebecca was the one before last to make it in. She heard a horrified scream behind her, no doubt from the man closing the line but hadn't dared look back. She threw herself through the other side of the door, which immediately was slammed shut after her. The other guy didn't make it.

The deathly silence soon befell upon them now that they were inside the Spencer Estate but Rebecca had a hard time hearing anything else but her own racing heartbeat, and the roaring and screaming from her team mates, still echoeing lively in her mind. Not to mention that the semis, fired so near her and their volumes intensified by the microphones were still making the back of her head buzz.

One of the three remaining Bravo members slammed the huge door shut, immediately engaging what was left of the lock, and sliding the large wooden piece barring the door into place.

Oh my god, it KILLED them... They were killed and ripped apart and...

She tried erasing the screaming faces, filled with terror as they were literally ripped away by those savage... What in the world were they?! Was the entire field infested by some clan of monsters?

Her breath came in short and she felt bile rising in her throat as she sat on the floor.

In a minimal amount of time, the Bravo members we're killed off faster than she could manage to spare a glance at. It was just so - no words came to describe it, but the closest term was 'horrible'. Blood curtling screams and cries, flashes of images replayed themselves; everything seemed so surreal under the pale moon and among the long wild grasses that overwhelmed their sights and senses.

Yet as unreal as it seemed Rebecca Chambers still ran as fast as she could to best the wind itself, along with the other remaining members. Just in case it WAS real, she wasn't planning on dying to find out.

The room was bright and it took her some time to adjust to it, slowling wedging off the night-visions and mask to drop them on the marble floor, though keeping her headset on.

They found themselves in a lavishily decorated entrance, a hallway at 12 o'clock leading down to many doors, wide classic staircases on each side of the hallway lead up to at least two other momentarily unseen floors. There were more hallways branching off on either side, a total of four; two on the left and two on the right from what it seemed. Judging the amount of dust accumulated everywhere, making hyperventilating more than a chore. this place had been abandoned for a while.

"What do we do now?" One of the two men left said as Rebecca tried as best as she could to pay attention, having more adrenaline rushing through her brain than blood.

"We should try to contact the base, find a way to- to... Fck, what was that?!" The captain said.

Rebecca, who was still on the floor and trying to get up looked at the other man shrug, his shaky shoulders having a hard time to falling.

"Rebecca, are you ok?" She heard the double voices, one in her earphones sounding like a copy of the real one that was addressed to her.

Her eyes shot up and looked at her interlocutor, the captain. She wasn't quite sure how to answer; 'Yes, I'm fine, even though I just witnessed the massacre of half our team by unknown creatures'? 'No, I'm not ok and I'm going to break down right here right now and cry no matter what's going to happen next'?

But before she had a chance to actually voice her answer, a deep-throated and plaintive moaning came from one of the hallways. All their eyes followed along the decades old wall towards one of the hallways, where a limping figure stumbled at a snail pace in the dark.

"Maybe he'll be able to tell us what's been going on." The captain said, looking towards the other man.

The other man nodded, hugging his large semi close to him but pointing towards the ceiling, proceeded towards the hallway.

Rebecca looked at him go and slowly followed along with the captain.

"I think he should be treated first, didn't look or sound like he's in any condition to brief us." She said, frowning as they approached.

There was something unusual about the limping man, but she couldn't quite tell why. The hallway was dark, so the captain waited with Rebecca in the light from the entrance while the other man went to help the limper out of the darkness.

Rebecca watched, settling her medic equipment on her floor and rubbed her own left arm with her right hand. It was cold in here, not the unbearable kind, but definitely not comfortable.

The other Bravo member spoke to the injured man and it she couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but she immediately knew something was wrong. There was astonishment in his voice as he began shouting and raised his weapon, slowly backing up.

Rebecca glanced at the captain and only saw him watching the entire scene calming, his face expressionless.

The other Bravo member backed into the light, his weapon still trained on the injured man and only when they both got into the light did Rebecca see what was wrong.

He was limping because he had been walking on his ankle.

Putrid scents of decay immediately assaulted her nostrils, as if her own willingness to hold back her already rising bile was a mere mockery of how she should really be feeling.

"Oh god," she gasped, pinching her nose and turning away.

The injured man moaned again. But not only was he missing his foot, he was missing part of his face as well as chunks of a bit of everywhere of his body. His clothes were shredded, torn, bloodstained, though most of it caked around his decaying and worm devoured wounds. He was extremely pale, comparable to an albino, at least where his skin would could still be seen.

She could've sworn some of it had been hanging off him too.

Unwillingly, she turned to look again. The other two men were as shocked as she was.

"Freeze!" The man shouted, pointing his gun at the moaning man.

He responded by another moan, this time sounding less convincing than before. He definitely wasn't in pain. His eyeballs were dry, almost shrivelled but his gaze was fixed and unblinking. Rebecca suspected that the absence of his eyelids might have contributed to the eerie behavior.

"Do not take another step!" The captain shouted behind the backing up Bravo.

The moaning, rotting, and terribly smelling man kept on going forward. The Bravo shoved him back. He stumbled, but didn't fall. Then steadied himself back into the monotonous limping towards them as if he had been walking in that manner his entire life.

Unable to bear it any longer, Rebecca turned and spilled the contents of her stomach, her head turning. Then her ears drummed with the sound of gunfire. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, she turned to see the moaning man finally fall without getting up again. No spasms, no screaming or gasp of surprise, no breath caught midway. He just fell, like a piece of rag. Except that the wet sound he made sounded like a large pumpkin smashing against cement.

Rebecca's head wouldn't register. Her eyes saw it for what it was and her ears heard it, but her mind refused to accept what she had just witnessed.

Then, as if hearing her thoughts and giving her a second chance to witness it again, several moanings came from all of the corridors, ringing and echoing with different tonalities, like a choir of the dead without a chief of orchestra.