[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5024233]Marcus[/url] let out a small grin as he felt his sword slicing a something, accompanied with a whimper. The Beast also loosened it’s grip, probably to change the grip. Marcus’s eyes flashed. The rifle was free and he quickly pulled it out of the hole. The stock slammed to the hole’s edge but Marcus twisted the rifle and pulled it through. 

Problem was the sword. Beast had gotten hold of it. And it’s strength of grip was far too great; Marcus couldn’t pull or twist the blade at all. He was about to put his leg as a support at the door, but something inhuman stopped him. He had heard the bell ring a fourth time and the hair in his back had risen as to warn him of dangers unknown to man. And the crackling sound too had sounded ominous. 

With a quick glance he had seen a black pool behind him. This wasn’t yet such a worry that needed his attention as he pulled the rifle out. But he felt something coming, rising from behind of him. This had given him a sudden urge to put more strength to pull the sword out of beast’s grasp, but it did nothing no matter how much effort Marcus gave. 

And then came the screech. Marcus let got of his sword, which disappeared behind the door. Marcus turned around, distracted by the foul black being, slender and long and armed with sickle that could split man half. Marcus was full of fright, took the rifle in his hands and aimed and pulled the trigger. But it was empty and no matter how many times Marcus pulled the trigger, it never loaded itself. 

Marcus saw the others also in disbelief. But the ill-looking man gained his posture quickly. A roar, a taunt, “Look alive” made Marcus snap out of the panic. His sword was taken and musket was at best an improvised musket. Then he heard a slam behind him; Another hard hit against the door. This was bad, soon it could break and more horrors could come inside. So he released his right hand from the trigger to wave it towards his comrades and yelled: [color=BDB76B][b]“Weapooon!”, [/b][/color] eyes darting between his comrades and the door. A creak marking that whatever hit it was pulling away and ready to hit again...