"Aghhh!!!"
"Die, you damned b*stards!"
"Man down! I repeat, man down! We need a medic over here!"
(BOOM)
The horrifying sounds of violence and bloodshed filled the air as the slowly dwindling group of soldiers desperately fought back against the nightmarish monstrosities.
As more of them climbed through the Tear, the soldier's situation seemed to worsen by the moment.
It was then that Commander Whitaker, along with a few of the other surrounding officers of a higher rank, finally sprung into action.
Unable to go directly into the circular patch and endure the firing barrage, they instead waited for the harrowing abominations to make their way over to them, letting the grey-skinned monstrosities soak up as much damage possible first.
Unlike the normal rank-and-file soldiers, these officers were all First Lieutenants and the leaders of their own squads.
Among them was Mark.
Holding a long spiked mace, in contrast to the rifles used by the soldiers around him, he ran over to the closest abomination and brought it down on the creature.
Since the creature was simply too tall, instead of risking his element of surprise to strike its skull, Mack settled for its grey, bony back.
(BANG)
The creature recoiled from the blow, responding much worse than it did to the barrage of light.
In fact, that single blow from Mark's mace almost eclipsed all of the damage the creature had suffered up to this point.
The mace's sharp spikes dug into the creature's flesh, tearing it and drawing a steady stream of ink-black blood.
Dropping the half-eaten soldier in its hand, the abomination snapped its head around and eyed Mark in a demented frenzy.
Mark flashed the creature a toothy grin.
"What? Did I interrupt your lunch?"
"SCREEEEEEH"
Letting out a bloodcurdling screech, the creature swung its now-empty claws at Mark, wishing to Tear him to shreds instead of simply catching him to eat him alive.
Mark hastily raised his mace to block the approaching claws, but the blow still knocked the wind out before sending him flying backwards.
"Ptew!"
Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Mark scowled.
He had most certainly suffered some kind of internal damage from the shock, but that wasn't all.
His arms were almost completely numb, causing him to be unable to grip his now-damaged weapon properly.
Like him, it seemed his partner had taken quite the beating as well.
Mark was sure that he was in for a world of pain after his adrenaline rush ended.
"That's if I even survive that long," he joked darkly.
Around him, the other First Lieutenants began to engage in combat with other similar creatures.
By now, nine nine-eyed creatures had managed to pull their way out of the Tear, and the barricade was useless.
The abominations threw the cars and other machinery that comprised the barricade about, littering the ground like scrap metal.
As for the soldiers, they hastily grabbed whatever weapon they could get their hands on while trying to put some space between themselves and the nightmarish monsters.
Their role in the fight was all but over now.
All they could do now was pray for their superiors to pull through or at least stall long enough for headquarters to send reinforcements.
If there was a bright side to all of this, the Tear was finally beginning to close, and it didn't look like any more of the hellish creatures would claw their way out.
So now it was up to the fifteen First Lieutenants and their Captain to handle this mess.
Most of the Lieutenants had engaged the abominations in pairs, utilizing teamwork to share the pressure and keep each other alive.
Through this, they managed to keep seven of the nine creatures occupied, while Captain Linda Whitaker and Mark were each forced to fight their target alone.
While Linda was fairing quite well despite her evident disadvantage, Mark couldn't say the same for himself.
Unlike his superior, who was a 2-star, Mark and the rest of the Lieutenants were still only at the first star.
While it made them leagues stronger than the normal humans that were their subordinates, fighting creatures from a Rank 2 Tear was above their capabilities.
It wasn't impossible to win, but it most certainly wasn't easy either.
A resolute look flashed across Mark's eyes as he let out a loud war cry.
His skin, usually the tone of rich caramel, turned bright red.
Tiny wisps of white smoke began to rise from his skin as Mark's face warped into a demonic scowl.
Right now, he closely resembled a demon straight from hell.
Lifting his mace with much greater ease, Mark slammed it down on an approaching claw, hitting it with enough force to produce an audible bang.
The creature's obsidian claw and Mark's mace chipped after the monumental clash.
Enduring the recoil from the blow, Mark's arms groaned, threatening to fail him at any moment.
However, Mark no longer pays attention to such things.
The only thing he desired was the death of the lanky abomination, even if it cost him his own life to do so.
In fact, he looked no less deranged than the creature he was fighting.
It was a relief that no one else was around him; otherwise, they might have gotten caught in the crossfire.
Mark's changes not only made him stronger and faster but also thoroughly dulled his sense of pain.
While it was a blessing, it was also a curse.
With every blow the two of them exchanged, Mark's body became progressively more battered, riddling his body with both external and internal wounds.
But every time he was pushed back or fell down, like a zombie, he stood right back up to rechallenge the creature.
However, everything has its limits, and Mark soon met his.
Blocking a blow strong enough to crush a car, Mark's mace finally gave in and shattered.
Its owner wasn't better off, as he was sent flying backwards, crashing into the ground and kicking up a plume of dirt and dust.
His body twitched, trying to get back up, but no matter how hard he struggled, it didn't move.
His muscles were torn, his organs were shredded, and his bones were broken.
No matter how determined he was to get back up and fight, he couldn't overcome the reality of his situation.
Mark had lost.
The others were too busy fighting their own battles, and some of the Lieutenants had already fallen prey to the many-armed creatures, making the fights for those still left alive far worse than before.
Only Captain Whitaker had managed to somehow overpower and kill her target. Still, she was a half-step in the grave, powerless to do anything else.
As if realizing his fight was over, Mark's flushed skin returned to its natural colour. Still, the countless red gashes and blue, purple, and black bruises remained.
"Arghhh…."
Feeling his mind return to normal along with his senses, Mark gritted his teeth as he was bombarded with all of the accumulated pain he had endured during his berserk transformation.
"Damnit… Damnit, all to hell…" Mark cursed under his breath.
He saw the Harrowing creature look down at him with demented glee as it slowly approached.
While his initial sneak attack managed to harm the creature, Mark couldn't land any subsequent blows on it. He was constantly thrust on the backfoot in their confrontation and forced to focus only on defending and stalling.
Not that he could do either, given the wide gap in strength between the two.
The creature stood before Mark and reached out to his mangled body, grabbing him by his broken arms and lifting him into the air.
Mark felt another surge of pain as his battered body cried out in protest against the creature's manhandling.
The creature brought Mark up to eye level, observing its captured human with interest.
Feeling repulsed, Mark spat out a mouthful of blood.
Given their proximity, it flew straight onto one of the creature's many eyes.
Surprised by the human's action, the creature couldn't close its eyelid in time, enduring the full brunt of its sneaky attack.
"SCREEE!"
The creature's body shook in discomfort, sending tremors through Mark's body as well.
After recovering from its momentary shock, the creature gave Mark a look of deranged madness.
However, before Mark could get a chance to spit another mouthful of blood, the creature's maw opened wide once more, aiming to finish its prey off once and for all.
Mark gave the creature one last look of revulsion before silently accepting his fate.
However, before the creature could bite his head off like the soldiers it had eaten not too long ago, Mark heard what appeared to be a crackle of thunder.
The creature's body twitched and convulsed before its mouth completely split open, causing the upper portion of its head to slide off and fall to the ground with a silent thud.
Mark looked at the semi-decapitated creature in confusion.
"It's… dead?"
Unable to properly speak anymore due to his injuries, his voice was reduced to a soft murmur.
Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, the creature's body fell backwards, causing Mark to fall from the creature's hands onto its lanky stomach.
"Urghhh!"
Feeling another surge of pain, Mark finally began to feel his consciousness fade.
The mixture of blood loss and pain was proving far too much for his mind to bear.
However, as his eyelids slowly fell, he noticed what appeared to be an auburn-haired youth, seemingly no older than sixteen years old, thrusting his sword through the chest of another grey abomination.
Recognizing the youth, a weak smile formed on Mark's lips.
"About damn time they showed up…"