It barely took Alejandro and Azamodo five minutes of being on their own for them to get into trouble.
Azamodo, the ever-so-confident recruit, was pinned on the floor by a Dark, in the kitchen, screaming, and Alejandro swore he could see a dark spot on his pants.
"ALEJANDRO! HELP ME!"
Alejandro wrapped his finger tighter around the trigger, trying to get a shot.
Headshot... headshot...
But there was no opening; the Dark, that black and wounded and twisted mess that was somehow formerly human, was too close to Azamodo.
There was only one solution.
Letting his AR-15 just hang on his neck by the straps, Alejandro took out his combat knife and quickly approached, the blade raised in the air.
He had to do something now- the Dark would start screeching any second.
His eye twitched, the smell of death filled his nostrils. Pure fear ran through his veins, through his very being, and he froze.
This thing, this creature, this abomination was terrifying.
Alejandro couldn't fathom the idea of touching it, let alone getting close enough to stab it.
But he could still hear Azamodo, writhing on the floor, pinned under this beast, just barely keeping its mouth away from eating his face off.
Slchh.
Alejandro blinked. He blinked again. And once more.
A knife, held by an arm in black armor, was impaled in the Dark's skull, viscous dark, almost moldy black liquid dripping out.
Alejandro still had his knife raised as he slowly turned to face the Gerf, the gas mask on her face and the black armor covering her body keeping Alejandro from seeing what they were feeling at the moment.
Then, like the knife was a joystick, the Gerf moved the Dark off of Azamodo.
"Did you get bit?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Azamodo stared at the thing beside him before his gaze moved to his gloved index finger.
Alejandro could see a small hole in the tough fabric, a hole that was slowly leaking red.
"N-no..."
Azamodo's voice was shaky as he held his hand to his chest, sitting up from the floor and keeping the wound out of view from the Gerf, who was crouched behind him.
"I'm... I'm f-fine."
But, with experience comes wisdom and skill.
The Gerf's own hand shot out, her fingers wrapping around Azamodo's wrist with an iron grip.
And then she inspected his palm, his digits.
"You got bit... by a single Dark."
Azamodo was breathing heavily, because he knew what this meant.
Everyone did.
He would either be stuck here, slowly turning into a Dark as the virus ran through his system, his very DNA, or he'd be shot. Shot right through the head.
"The choice is yours."
The Gerf's words, for once, were softer, but still firm. Azamodo would be dying today, sooner or later.
He could either live for a few more hours in terror, or he could just end it all now.
"...now-"
Pop.
The very millisecond he said that, he felt a piece of metal go through his head before he slumped over and fell to the floor, dead.
The Gerf's light brown Glock 19X was in her hand, her finger once more on the trigger.
Crimson liquid pooled around Azamodo's body, the once boastful and overconfident recruit reduced to a silent corpse.
The Gerf just let out a sigh, holstered her pistol, and stared down at the body for a moment before her masked gaze went to Alejandro, who was shaking like a leaf in the wind and staring with wide eyes at the man now on the floor.
"Let's go. All that screaming will have attracted more Darks. We'll be swarmed soon."
Alejandro just wrapped his fingers around the golden cross on his neck for a second, before he put his hands together in prayer as he wished for Azamodo to be whisked to heaven.
The poor boy might've been a jackass, but he didn't deserve to be traded one hell for another.
Then, finally, Alejandro turned and just nodded, his expression downcast, as he followed behind the now moving Gerf.
But he now needed to know.
"If I may..."
Alejandro started, staring at his hands as they walked through the hallway, passing the previous Dark corpse, trying to stop himself from shaking. It wasn't working, but thankfully the Gerf spoke up.
"What is it?"
He blinked for a second, wondering how to word his question so it would be more polite, before he just sighed and asked,
"What's... your name?"
The Gerf froze for a mere millisecond before she continued walking, not bothering to glance back as she answered.
"Corporal Elaine West."
Alejandro scratched the back of his neck, breathing in and exhaling to try and calm himself. He was still shaking, since his mind was just throwing the "what if it was you!?" question at him.
"Well... thank you, Corporal West."
Elaine didn't reply and just opened the door to the stairwell, ushering Alejandro in and looking at the hallway one last time before she closed the door, walking besides him as they ascended the stairs.
Alejandro felt a little uneasy, but not because of West. He had just watched someone die, someone who might've had a loving and caring family back home.
It made his stomach twist and turn as they walked up each step, and he wondered why Azamodo had to pass.
But step by step, they got closer to the roof, and when they exited the stairwell, the other two Gerfs were patiently waiting, one holding a still burning flare.
No-one spoke, they all just stood there, silent.
Alejandro stared at the ground, his grip getting so tight on his cross that his knuckles turned white, and one of the Gerfs finally said, his voice soft,
"Kid, you're gonna cut your palm if you keep on holding it like that. Relax."
Slowly and reluctantly, Alejandro loosened his grip on the cross, but he tensed right back up when he heard the loud wailing reach his ears.
It was so, so loud. And it sounded terrifying; like hundreds of people were just screaming in agony at the same time.
He refused to look at the ground below them and instead focused on the sky ahead, on the big gray wall in the distance and the helicopter that was now approaching.
The male Gerf just held up the flare, unenthusiastically and slowly waving it, telling the pilot in the UH-60 "yes, we're here, come and grab us already".
It seemed like 5 seconds passed when the Black Hawk got to the building and dropped the cables, with all four soldiers scrambling up them.
The second Alejandro and the others buckled themselves in, the cables retracted, and the helicopter started turning around.
And then he saw the stairwell door break down, and dozens of black, wounded, and twisted bodies poured out, but the helicopter was out of reach now.
The creatures, with their deformed features and pitch-black skin, ran across the roof with surprising speed, but then jumped for the helicopter with surprising stupidity.
Alejandro expected them to have at least a little sense or feeling of self-preservation.
But no, they just leaped off the building like a tidal wave, uncaring that they were just plummeting to the ground.
Guess the virus was named 'Dreadnought' for a reason... Alejandro thought, staring at the pitch-black forms throwing themselves off the building roof as the helicopter left, the whole scene slowly growing blurry until Alejandro couldn't even see the things anymore.
Just the now-comforting sound of helicopter rotors filled his ears, and a sense of relief washed over him as they flew over the wall.
Finally... safety.