The fight between the 500 army men and the seemingly endless mad people reached its climax. The tanks rained down rockets shaking the ground, bullets traveled the air as its shell became like a waterfall giving the army the push it needed to advance.
Different than the pale men, most of these rushing mad people were just normal looking citizens, some were even kids and some were old men. But they kept running through the rain of fire even though the ground was littered with their comrades.
"This is madness! They are like moths running into the fire!"
The army had hoped that when a lot of their people die, they would turn their tails around and run back to the treeline. But they were wrong, the waves of mad people continued as if they were possessed by something.
Deaths on both sides kept rising. Even a fully armed army, wasn't able to keep these people at bay. Surrounded by ten to one, especially by frenzied masses, casualties started to pile up.
