Story 602: The Crimson March

The night air was thick with the scent of burning flesh and gunpowder. The echoes of distant screams faded into the howling wind as General Viktor 'Bloodfang' Kruger led his elite squad through the ruins of the fallen city. His crimson beret cast a shadow over his cold, undead eyes, and in his gloved hand, he gripped his signature combat knife, its blade still slick with the blood of the last resistance fighters.

Beside him, Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook marched forward, his heavily armored boots crunching over the shattered remains of what was once a vibrant metropolis. His modified shotgun was slung over his shoulder, ready to tear apart any human foolish enough to stand in their way.

"They’re cornered, General," said Eva "Black Widow" Morales, her voice sharp and venomous. She crouched on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, her keen eyes scanning the distance. "The last human stronghold is just beyond that barricade."

Kruger smirked. "Then it’s time to send them a message."