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A thundering heartbeat, a cackling storm crashing against the mud soaked ground. The shivering of fear, and endless motion of blood creeping its way through the battleground, soldiers laid scattered across the vast scene which in turn painted a picture most horrid. Buildings were torn to what could only be considered ghosts of their former glory, bullet holes riddling their shapes to the point of devastation. The otherwise ever cleansing rain blanketed the darkness in a futile attempt to wash misery from sight, though faded beneath the gore splattered against the now bronze colored mud. Throwing a tired hand forth, a boy, no, a soldier crawled forth in desperation, a series of wounds riddling his body with clothes torn and shredded due to wartime strife. Pulling himself up, the soldier slipped and fell once more, his fall cushioned by the disemboweled corpse of one once called friend. Nearly barfing at the sight, the stench was enough to turn the soldier's stomach. Shivering from the cold, nearly fainting from the pain, and cursed by the very sight of hell's own embrace, Miles clenched his teeth and once more struggled back to his feet. 

Obfuscated by the furious rain, the tears making their way down his cheeks were washed from place with his messy black hair sticking to his forehead. Miles reached for the gun holstered in his protective vest, the one thing which had kept him alive throughout the ambush he had endured. Never before had he seen such a monstrosity, a creature of such abominable strength. What ungodly creation had come to be, joining the ranks of Erubesco? What manner of abomination had they pulled from the bowels of the abyss itself? 

He could hear it, Miles' heartbeat accelerating at the sound of an inhuman growl. Once berserker rage had overtaken the beast once considered a reflection of mankind, neither friend nor foe held different merit. The very ground shook at its footsteps, forcing Miles to pick up his pace through the mud soaked path while trying not to fall to his knees. It was so, that serendipity never came to bless him after survival had brought him from the brink of death. The Reaper stood by, watching, but he would never raise a single of his skeletal fingers in a manner of help. 

Crushing through the crumbling remains of a ruined building, the monster of myth and horror came rushing towards Miles as he desperately jumped to the side. With a hand grasping the wound on his stomach, Miles once more got well acquainted with the mud soaked ground and aimed his gun at the foe now shifting its attention towards him. Several shots rang out, the sound of bullets leaving the muzzle of a gun echoing throughout the thunderous air but did little in stopping this messenger of hell's wrath. Raising a deformed hand, this massive beast rammed it down towards the smaller soldier and nearly cracked the ground only moments after Miles rolled away from the attack. The boy jolted back to his feet in a desperate sprint from the chasing beast and replicated another clip for his gun. Even in top shape, the soldier would have no hopes in outrunning the nightmare following him, but the wounded boy now trying to escape could only throw himself into an adjacent building through one of the many cracks. 

Droplets of blood followed him like a tail, with the enemy crashing through every wall in a straight line towards its prey. Whenever Miles was granted the opportunity, he spun around and unleashed a hail of bullets from his pistol but saw the futility in his attempt once the shattered debris of architecture hit him as a result of the disastrous path of destruction circling the beast. Thrown to the ground, Miles' pistol was knocked out of his hand which left him with little more than a knife. Grasping the hilt of his blade, Miles drew it from place and narrowly escaped death a second time. Moving out of the way at the last second, Miles avoided the beast's next attack which shattered the wall behind him. With a swing of his knife, the soldier planted the blade in his foe's leg but was quickly backhanded in a knee-jerk motion. 

Once more sent to the ground, Miles was thrown out of the building and back into the mud. With the thunderous rain crashing down upon him, body broken and spirit soon to follow, there was a glimmer of hope shining its rays upon him. An assault rifle laid next to his fallen comrade, only inches from where Miles had landed. Reflexively reaching for the rifle, Miles didn't bother using his Gift on the ammunition. He spun to his back, aiming the rifle at the monstrous fiend now charging him. He pulled the trigger, squeezing it with desperation as a rapid and constant series of bullets flew out from the barrel and lodged themselves in the mutant's upper body. Not even a devil like that could survive an entire clip's worth of bullets in the chest, some of which made their way into its heart and throat. 

Crashing down in front of him, the monster now laid lifeless in front of Miles who himself breathed a desert of air from parched lungs. Every breath sent a jolt of pain down his chest, his legs having given up on him. He could barely move, with blood leaking from his body mercilessly. This was it. He could not cling to consciousness further, his sight slowly fading into complete, and utter darkness.