The Storm's A Hurricane (part 1)

Steve could feel fear creeping him in an instant. His heart rung in his ears before he had even reached the fifth level. He knelt there, Staring at where he saw his allies and friends letting him call out his own execution. He knew death was ahead of him. Maybe if he had a partner going up with him who had the same talents he had, he would have felt safe, knowing he could return to the bottom floor. This was not the case, though. He was alone, as he always had been.

Steve's eyes opened as he realized that he had always felt this way. Even at a young age, he was always alone. He loved his mom and dad and they loved him back, but they always spoke to Steve as if he was slow, mentally. That something about him was enough o make him "special". Maybe they were right in some points of the matter but he was not weal nor did he ever needed anyone's help. He stood for himself in school. He defended himself whenever he got into an argument with his parents. He never blamed himself when they thought about breaking up. Steve stood himself as he was finding some odd strength hiding within himself. He may not catch on all the time and he may not be the smartest person in the facility, but he knew damn well he was never weak in his life.

"I can kill 'em," he said in a bit of a soft growl. Steve could kill 'em. at the very least, he could as many as he could to make sure his friends can take care of the rest. No matter how many there were ahead of them. What they look like or what they even are did not matter to Steve. He had to muster as much courage he had to give as he waited for the fifth level to be reached. He wasn't ready but he did not care anymore, "Kill 'em all."

Steve was focused and his eyes glowed as he felt the elevation cease its rising. He visibly could his body shake in the pattern of his heart. Slow but heavy and powerful. Just like him. the whirring of the elevator slowly hummed down as he then could hear several groans and clawing against the gate ahead of him. His hands were firm on his assault rifle as he aimed forward. He felt his thumb against the safety and flipped it off. Steve was ready, "Kill 'em all and survive!" He demanded himself before the gate slid up.

The groaning was loud. Feet of the undead were the first thing Steve saw before the gate finished rising. Steve aimed and fired at the legs of the zombies ahead of him. Rotting blood and flesh matted the ground of the map as their legs shattered from the bullets ripping straight through the legs, making the zombies fall to the ground. Next, target the heads. Before the fallen zombies had time to crawl and grab Steve, the barrel of his gun aimed at there heads, and his ears rang from him firing their heads into a splattered fungal mess. The gates opened and the zombies that were behind the ones he had put down stumbled and fell over them which gave Steve a perfect opportunity to shoot them down, so he did. He aimed at the first head he saw and fired at it.

He had never felt this focused before. It was if his surroundings were slower than usual. His perspective a tunnel vision of directions, all being planned out in his head. he could dart his eyes at his next target and shoot at it without needing to aim properly. just point and shoot, and their heads would have a rather gaping hole in the brain, be ruptured completely into a mess of fragmented bone and brain matter, spilled to the ground.

Steve lept over the bodies he had just taken out as he examined his surroundings. This was without a doubt, level five. The small village. He realized that the bodies that they had killed before were gone. Steve found the lack of decaying bodies odd, but he did not let it linger in his head. That means they did not stay dead. All the more to kill.

Steve rushed his way to the center of the map, at the unkempt firepit that the houses circled along with the church and watchtower. Steve ejected the magazine from the assault rifle to check how much ammunition was left in it. The drum mag was gigantic and heavy. It had to have held over fifty rounds inside. Point being, there were plenty of bullets to still give. He slipped the mage back in and rested the assault rifle to his hip, letting the strap hold it onto his person as he grabbed his Mac's out and waited.

He could hear groaning all around him. Some of them were smacking their bodies against the closed doors of the two houses. Others were staggering behind the houses at the corners of the map. They did not seem it, but these zombies were smart and preferred to corner their prey, but of course, their hunger would overpower their smarts and eventually waddled there way into Steve's sights.

The first walking body Steve saw, was a woman in a lab coat staggering her way past the path next to the watchtower. She did not seem to have decayed that much. She was a redhead with a ponytail and pale skin. Cold, blue veins were visible on her lifeless skin. Something stopped him from shooting her immediately. She felt as if she had reminded him of someone he once knew, but he did not recall who or why. His arm rose as he aimed at the zombie and he fired a suppressed amount on his automatic handgun. The bullets pelted the female body and one bullet struck her skull and she fell, completely lifeless. He gave a heavy sigh. This zombie bothered him a lot and he didn't even know why. The sight of its dead body made him short of breath. he looked away and tried to catch his breath.

CRASH!! Steve turned and faced the house behind him which had its door swung open with several undead bodies lunge towards him from afar. They must have been hungry, stuck in that house for who knows how long. Steve aimed both of his guns at them before he spoke, "come and get a taste if you can!" The triggers were pulled and each zombie that desperately rushed their way towards Steve would get a headshot one after another. Steve was happy to give if they kept coming to him.

Steve was surprised how many zombies fit in the seemingly one level house. over and over and over, these rotting bodies would crawl, walk, waddle there way as fast as they could to Steve the moment they caught their milky eyes on him. Steve kept on firing his gun, until... Click! Both Mac's were empty and would only make the sound of the pin hitting nothing with the chambers locked back, showing nothing in the barrels. "Fuck!" Steve barked before he jogged his way back a bit. There were still too many undead clawing their way through the door of the house. he did not have time to reload his Mac's. Next gun!

he dropped his Mac's onto the ground and grabbed the twelve-gauge off of him and aimed at the staggering bodies. He flipped the safety switch and fired. P O W ! ! ! The zombies that were mere feet from grabbing Steve shot back and made domino effect, as the pellets that were in the shotgun shell expelled with a force that ripped the flesh of the bodies ahead of him. It smelled of hot sulfur and a lingering rotting scent came right after. That worked a lot better than an automatic. Steve made a mental note for the shotgun. Bring it out and kill them whenever they are piling over themselves to get a bite of him. Steve pumped the fore-end of the shotgun, loading the next shell into the barrel before he fired the gun again. P O W ! ! ! More bodies fell.

The house was finally empty. He breathed heavily as he did not notice how close he was from getting bitten just then. That was when he heard clawing and groaning at the door next to him. He slowly turned his head to the sound. It sounds like the whole stone house was echoing in growls and cries. Instinctively he rushed back to his Mac's. He grabbed them and ejected the magazines out of them and recalled where he placed his ammo for this gun on his body. That was when he had realized he never told Clyde to give him spare ammo for these.

"...Shit," he used their stocks that could extend out as belt straps and placed them at the back of his pants. He then unlocked the pistol from the holster on his hip and pressed the safety of this gun before pointing at the door with both hands ahold of the pistol. Steve was already out of ammo for two guns. It was truly sinking in how screwed he was, making himself go alone.