"Balazar must be in a heap of trouble to post notices like this," the fedora-wearing figure muttered to himself.
Code:
Proclamation of Reclamation
To all those willing to risk their hides, Enrico Balazar issues this challenge. Take out as many of the oddities running amok in the Industrial District by the docks as you can. The person who claims the most heads minus losses each day will be given a prize. One prize per day, and only one prize per person. Prizes will be given out once the area is cleared.
Next to Balazar's notice was one by the city that read :
Code:
The Docks are hereby off limits to all AL citizens.
Short and to the point. Notices all over the Industrial District proclaiming the area off limits weren't going to keep him from claiming a prize.
Everywhere he looked, warehouse walls, the sea-soaked docks, even a fallen bird lying on the street, were coated with a light-green residue. What the residue was he had no idea, but its putrid stench was inescapable. The area was devoid of life.
The man knew where to go without being told. The electricity had been knocked out sometime last week, and the only light this early in the morning was the faint red glow of smoldering wood up ahead. The area was dead silent, even the wind off the bay seemed to keep its distance.
He crouched down to take a look at the ruins in front of him. The slow drizzle seemed to have no effect on the slowly burning building. The expected smoke from the flames was more like a vapor. He noticed several bare-foot footprints leading away from the fire towards the area's warehouse hub.
*cough*
The man spun around and drew both Rugers in a blur. His adrenaline had always given him itchy trigger fingers, but this time he hesitated.
What he saw before him was unlike anything he had ever seen. It glowed green in the dark. How he didn't see it before he had no idea.
"What the frag are you?"
The man steadied his pistols on this thing before him, yet couldn't pull the trigger. He wasn't quite sure if it was really there.
The being smiled at him and seemingly floated toward him. The closer it got, the brighter its glow.
"One more step and your worm-food. I don't know what you are, but these girls have yet to meet something they couldn't tear apart."
The phantom gazed hungrily.
The thing came closer still, yet the man couldn't seem to unload his clips into it. The closer it came, the more details he saw. Large yellow fangs. Glowing greenish-grey skin covered in sores. It's hands no longer had finger nails as much as claws. It definitely didn't float, but moved with an other-worldly grace.
He could feel its drain now, feel it taking what it didn't own. It's glow brightened while he weakened. Silently the ghoul drew him in with its gaze.
The man was barely able to keep his pistols on target. He staggered back, feeling dizzy and disoriented. His pistols felt like lead weights. Pure instinct guided him now, and it would not let this thing take him so easily. His fingers pulled their triggers.
The beast's glow erupted and engulfed him. He fired toward the light in an arc. He could no longer see the ghoul, nor darkness. Green light filled his vision until his 11th shot.
The 11th shot saved his life.
Somehow luck was on his side this time. The bullet weakened the creature, and its grip on his mind faded. The glow was gone, yet so was all color from his sight. The beast's left shoulder had turned into a fine oozing mist.
"Ramon Wiley ain't so easy to take down fiend. Go back to hell!"
A final shot was heard in the darkness.
