It happened so fast. One moment just another ordinary day, the next Armageddon. They swarmed, outside the doors, claws scraped against heavy oak it held but the hinges squealed in protest. Greg crouched behind an over turned desk revolver in hand.
The doors vibrated with each collusion, he heard muffled snarls of frustration.
Greg looked behind, all around terror, confusion, and panic were painted on every face. A father held his daughter tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Daddy, what are they?" She whimpered.
"I don't know baby, don't worry, it's gonna be alright, don't worry."
It's gonna be alright my ass. Greg thought.
Greg prioritized, he scanned, he saw pleas on some faces.
Not what I need.
Then he saw it in the face of an wire thin old man. Grim resolve.
That's my dude.
"Yo man you know how to use revolver?" Greg called. The old man nodded. Greg slid him the gun. The old man cocked it.
"Not what I expected when I decided to go to the bank today," the old timer said in a gruff voice "but it'll have to do." Greg took up the pump action shotgun and cocked it.
"You and me both brother." Greg said just as a hunk of the doorframe splintered. A grotesque claw crashed though and yanked a large chunk away. A green serpentine eye peaked into the gap. It rolled around in its socket before focusing on Greg; the door rattle as it hissed.
"Shoot it!" Someone yelped. Greg heard the scrapping of feet as everyone futility tried to put distance between them and whatever the hell slammed on the door.
"Not yet," he said and lined up his shot. Working security smack dab in the middle of Baghdad at the height of the Iraq War taught him patience amongst other things. Though ten years in active hot zone would not have prepared him for this.
Another chunk ripped out the door and an unearthly visage peered in it's intention laid bare for all to see.
"Oh god," a woman wailed "it's gonna eat us." Screams of horror, and pure terror deafened the room.
But Greg saw more than hunger in those eyes. Greg had seen once before when he looked in the eyes of a Iraqi boy that cradled his deceased father's head in his lap.
Hate. Pure hate. Greg thought. Is this real? Is this real life?
He unloaded a shot and the head disappeared.
An agonizing moment later it reappeared little silver pelts dotted its face with rivulets of blood running down its snout.
"Oh fuck that." Greg said. Up from prone position and hurtled over a teller desk in a heart beat. The old man followed without a second thought.
"Where are you going? You are the security you should secure us?" A crying woman demanded.
"Yup, I hit that thing point blank in the face and barely made it bleed, pretty much tapped out my ability to secure." Greg fingers flew over the combination lock on a door that led to the employee exit.
"Greg you just can't just leave us here. You have a job to do. " The portly bank manager said rising from his hiding place behind the teller desk.
"Yeah Chuck, I don't know if you were looking, I guess not judging by where you are hiding, but that's a damn monster out there and-"
Creak! Crack! Crunch!
The door splintered inwards and Greg found himself crushed into the door as people stampede trying to find any escape.
"Open the damn door!" Some one shrieked.
Greg looked over his shoulder and what he saw there would haunt his dreams for a long time.
The door lay in splinters and four black shapes roughly the size of a full grown man blurred through the opening and hurtled on the nearest cowering person.
Greg saw right out the door and the world was literally on fire. The building across the tightly compacted street roared in a inferno. Everywhere people ran for cover as whatever these things were attacked indiscriminately.
Greg managed to click through last tumbler on the lock and everyone spilled into the employee break room. Greg pulled himself and old man from the pile and sprinted for the next door and slammed into it and stepped into darkness.
A deafening sounded equal parts lion roar and dolphin's scream. It held a strange echoing quality that reverberated through his chest.
Greg looked back to see a beast perched on top of writhing bodies. Claws dug into back of some poor office worker. It hissed as it locked eyes with Greg and launched at him.
Shit. Greg thought turned his pump action and fired. The old man followed suit firing at the beast.
They caught it mid-air the bullets punched it and it hit the ground rolling. It lay in a jumbled heap. No blood, but it looked stunned.
That's when the stink his nose. The smell of a thousand kills, the smell of an predator. Everyone that could were on there feet and running towards the door.
Greg turned and ran into the darkened corridor. Screw getting crushed again. He hopped the banister to the lower level just below and the mob plowed into the steel handrail. To his right he could see the dim light inside the bank vault.
Sally peered confused, a safety deposit box in her hand. Greg sprinting towards her with about twenty people in tow.
"Sally! Get ready to close the vault!" Greg shouted. Her eyes went wide and she started to close the door.
"No damn you," Greg ran harder.
Just door almost closed Greg blocked with his body and shoved Sally backwards. He squeezed inside and turned. He prepared to close the door then stopped.
"Damn it!" He shouted pushed it open." hurry get in here, there's not much time, move." People rushed into the vault. Greg held on to the door and just as the last person piled in; down the hall Greg saw pair of green eyes in the darkness the dark shape ran up the side wall directly at Greg. He pulled the heavy vault door but closed painfully slow.
"Hurry! hurry! hurry!" A panicked woman shouted. Greg roared and pulled it closed but a claw hand caught the corner and pried it back open.
"No. No. No." Greg said as serrated jaws pushed pass the claw and at Greg's face.
But an arm with a revolver pushed pass Greg and emptied two shots in the beast face it fell away screaming. Greg shut the door and turned lock. He slid back against the door gasping. The old man next to him.
"I'm out," He said.
"Me too," Greg said.