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[hr][@Rune_Alchemist]

[Color=green]"Shit! SHIT! [b]SHIT![/b]"[/color] Finnegan cried out in panic as the Zombies rushed, and promptly overwhelmed him. Cut and slice and stab as he would-- the Apostle's efforts did little to dissuade the living dead from their onslaught; his opposition only serving to catch his knife in the decaying flesh of one of his attackers. 

Rotten blood gushed from the wound, causing his grip to slip from his knife as the Zombies tackled him to the ground. 

[Color=green]"Fu- fuck!"[/color]

Any semblance of chivalrous attitude Finnegan had previously displayed all but vanished as adrenaline surged through his veins. The Militiaman flailed and twisted as he tried to wrench free of the Zombie clinging to his side and the one that currently had hold of his throat. 

It was far from enough. 

Just as frantically as he was attempting to escape the grasp of the undead; the undead themselves sought to feed upon his living flesh. Though Finn had managed to keep the one on his side at bay-- the one that hung over him; it's undying grasp wrapped tightly around his throat, pulled it's reeking jaws close...

Finnegan fought to push the abomination away from him-- just enough to get out from under it. Every time his left hand reached out to push the creature back, the oil-like slick of blood caused his hand to slip, again and again until-- 

[i][b]CRUNCH![/b][/i]

A scream echoed through the halls of the Catacombs as blackened teeth cut through the first joint of Finnegan's ring finger.

A second surge of Adrenaline pumped through the young soldier, sound and smell fading into obscurity as his vision began to tunnel. The sound of his own heartbeat pounded wildly in his own ears as the Zombie clutching his side began to make headway toward his neck as well.

And then a black object slammed into the skull of the second Zombie.

Whatever the Woman might of said-- it never reached Finnegan's ears.

Whatever ornate carvings decorated the black object that had landed beside him-- Finnegan payed no heed.

All he knew; all that [b]mattered[/b]-- was that he had a weapon.

His right hand formed a white-knuckled grip around whatever the object was-- and swung it hard into the temple of the Zombie that held his throat! 

[Color=green][b]"RAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"[/b][/color]

Again and again, he bashed the Zombie's skull with the odd flail he had been supplied; ravaging it until it's grip would loosen enough to break free! With a violent jerk, Finnegan whipped the pommel of his newly acquired weapon into the face of the second undead as he kicked away from his assailants, scrambling to get back to his feet!