A Star's Descent

By evolution-500

Disclaimer: House of the Dead and Resident Evil are properties belonging to SEGA and Capcom respectively. I do not own any of these characters.

Chapter Three: Lurking Horror

Enrico Marini crept forward with his officers at a steady and cautious pace, his sidearm raised protectively.

Currently, they were in an area within the train that could have been reserved for train employees and perhaps the conductor him or herself. Every move he made was slow and deliberate, his eyes darting back and forth around the room for any potential survivors or traps. The only sounds that could be heard were the harsh pattering of rain and the deafening howling of the wind, which shook the train walls slightly.

The lights were somberly lit, giving the room itself the feel of a funeral parlor.

Finding nothing, they proceeded toward the rear door.

Marini tapped Aiken on the shoulder before gesturing for him to take point, the Samurai Edge raised to eye level to provide covering fire. Together with his team mate, they flanked both sides of the rear door. Grabbing the handle, they slid the door open slightly, barely an inch of the way open. Sullivan peeked through the crack.

"Holy shit," he silently muttered with stunned awe.

"What it is it?" Marini asked.

The Bravo looked up at him.

"It's better if you saw it for yourself, sir," he replied uneasily.

Curious, Marini changed places with the younger officer and peered through the crack. Upon seeing the sight that awaited them, he pulled back, his face hardened, the weapon raised back to eye level. "Prepare to breach on my mark," he whispered.

The officers shifted into position. After five seconds, the order came.

"Move in!"

The Bravos slid the door open to the side and rushed in, their Samurai Edges readied for action. While Aiken and Sullivan checked corners for hostiles, Marini took in all of the details of the new setting that they were in.

Greeting the Bravos was another long hallway with a large cluster of passenger seats, but what took their breath away was the condition that it was in. It looked like a warzone, everything in complete disarray. Thankfully, there were no signs of any serious hazards save for bits and pieces of broken glass on the carpet and on nearby seats. The train lamps had either short-circuited or were smashed during the ensuing attack. Some of the windows were missing noticeable portions of glass. From the few fragments still hanging within the frame, some of them appeared to have been dissolved. Holes and burns of varying sizes covered various parts of the roof and floor, allowing rain to enter freely. Bodies were strewn across every surface in a multitude of positions.

One corpse in particular caught the Bravo Captain's attention.

Barely three feet ahead of him off to the right was a man in his sixties, wearing a pair of wiry frames and black trousers. From his coat, he was a Yankees fan. His face, with its soft and round contours, would have probably given him an avuncular appearance when he was alive. In death, it became a sort of parody. Its mouth hung obscenely open, the eyes rolled upward gazing into his own skull. Water dripped freely onto his forehead and into his receding hairline.

Marini felt his blood turn cold.

Part of him wanted to go back and beat the living daylights out of that creep in the red coat, but that died down as he surveyed the casualties before him.

Marini noted how the conditions of these bodies differed from the ones found in the sixth car.

None of these beheld the extreme violence demonstrated by the albino. Indeed, all of the bodies were intact, though their skins were in considerably poor condition.

Marini couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he gazed upon the crime scene. As a police officer, he had seen his fair share of violence. From the wounds exhibited, these were not the marks of a blade or a firearm. Portions of the skin were missing.

What could have done this?

"What the hell happened here, sir?" Aiken asked as he eyed the destruction around them.

Sullivan stood there gaping.

The Bravo Captain frowned.

"I don't know," he admitted, "we'll need to get forensics down here and have them sort this out. Mind your steps. We can't afford to contaminate the crime scene."

"Do you think this is what we should expect to find in the other cars?"

"Impossible," Marini replied. "There must be over a hundred men, women and children onboard. Even if that freak was Jean-Claude Van Damme, there's no way he would have been able to kill all of them."

"Unless he has an accomplice or accomplices," Aiken pointed out.

Marini frowned. Why didn't he think of asking the albino if he had been travelling alone?

"In any case, we'll check around to be sure. Keep your eyes open."

With that said, Marini and his men moved forward, taking care not to slip as they crossed, determined to find these 'survivors' that their prisoner had mentioned, although the devastated scenery left them somewhat chilled.

Some of them recalled the albino's story, but quickly dismissed it.

Who in their right mind would entertain the thoughts of a psychotic?

Outside, lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the small train. Nearby, a lone crow found shelter underneath the foliage of a tree. It cawed loudly, leaving the Bravo members unnerved.

It almost seemed to be laughing at them.

* * * * *

The storm raged on as thunder rumbled and cracked multiple times.

Rebecca felt cold with fear as she studied the figure that had just arrived.

Rather than being dressed in an orange prison uniform, as one would expect, Coen wore a different set of attire that he obviously stole from the deceased passengers.

On his hips, the convict wore a pair of jeans that were dark-blue in color, held up by a black leather belt, while his feet were concealed in dark thick boots. A sleeveless shirt that was navy-blue in tone revealed a pair of muscular arms. A large and stylish tattoo adorned his right shoulder. Illustrated in black ink, it appeared to be lettering for some sort of phrase or message, but Rebecca wasn't able to tell what it had said, nor had she bothered to do so for her attention was fixed elsewhere.

In his right hand was a Smith and Wesson Colt Anaconda, a rather intimidating weapon due to the size of its barrel - the thing was almost as large as her head. Rebecca had no doubt that a single shot from that thing would probably kill her in an instant, maybe even reduce her cranium to paste.

To her relief, though, the convict's attention was not fixed on her. Coen was studying the room and its contents, barely even giving her a glance. She felt a tinge of annoyance. He was giving her the same dismissive air as one would a fly. While part of her wanted to leap into action and prove that she was not to be taken lightly, Rebecca knew that would be the quickest way to get herself killed. As proud as she was of her first arrest, she had been lucky that the albino had cooperated.

After studying his surroundings, he gave her a once-over before shifting his attention to her prisoner. Rebecca eyed Star as he coolly stared back, his face retaining its stoicism.

The two stood in silent deliberation, seemingly wondering what to make of the other. Rebecca felt her heart thump as seconds counted by.

"Billy-" she spoke but stopped herself when he turned to face her.

Rebecca mentally scolded herself.

The man had killed twenty-three people, excluding the men who were escorting him. Calling him by his first name could potentially set him off, so Rebecca decided on pursuing a safer route.

"Lieutenant Coen," she said with nervous fluidity.

The convict stared her down.

"So, you know me. Been dreaming about me, have you?" he said, his voice low. There was a slight yet barely noticeable smirk on one corner of his mouth.

"You're the prisoner who escaped from the escort vehicle," she said, raising her weapon while keeping an eye on Star.

Rebecca was frightened.

Here she was with two psychopaths, one armed, the other detained. If she took her eyes off one, the other would possibly take advantage.

The medic waited with baited breath for something to happen.

Coen studied her.

"Ah, so you're with S.T.A.R.S. Well, your kind doesn't seem to want me around. Catch ya later," he replied casually, lowering his weapon as he gave a two-fingered salute before turning around and walking back to where he came from.

Rebecca blinked.

"Wait! You're under arrest!" She said, trying to sound assertive.

He casually raised one his arms, smirking over his shoulder. Dangling from his wrist was a manacle.

"No thanks, doll-face. I have already worn handcuffs," Coen replied.

He turned to look at Star, his expression changing.

"Nice coat," he muttered.

"Thank you," Star replied evenly.

Grunting in response, Billy turned and walked away. Rebecca shakily lowered her weapon after the door closed, sighing in relief.

BOOM!

Star and Rebecca whirled around as something large smashed through one of the windows.

She watched with horror as a figure, who she recognized as Edward Dewey, bounced off one of the chairs and clattered to the floor on his back with a grunt.

Her eyes widened.

"Edward!" She cried out as she rushed to his side. Various cuts and bruises adorned his body. She detected movement from her right and turned.

From the entrance where Rebecca and the others had first appeared from, Forest emerged with a grenade launcher strapped to his back, holding a large rifle with a scope on it, drenched in blood and rain.

"Oh my god, Forest!" she gaped at him. "What happened to you?!"

Instead of answering, he quickly went to the smashed window and started firing multiple shots, startling her.

Thunder roared across the sky, though Rebecca could have sworn that she heard something else.

After a few seconds of frenzied firing, Forest stopped, his attention fixed on whatever it was that he was shooting at outside before he shouldered his weapon, his gaze never faltering. It was only when Edward groaned in pain that both Forest and Rebecca snapped back to reality. She turned to face her injured comrade and took off her backpack. She looked over at Forest.

"Forest, I need your assistance. Help me clear the floor," she said.

He nodded.

"On it," Forest replied.

Together they brushed aside all the broken glass away from Edward. After making sure there weren't any more hazards, Rebecca turned back to her injured comrade.

"Can you hear me, Edward?" She asked, testing for level of awareness.

"Yeah," he groaned, "Oh God, that...that really hurt."

Rebecca opened up her backpack and took out a first aid kit. She took off her gloves and then replaced them with a pair made from rubber.

"Don't move, okay?" she told her patient.

She looked up at Forest, who stepped back from the pair to take out a pack of cigarettes.

"What happened? Where's Kevin?" she asked.

Rebecca watched as he tried to calm down and took out a cigarette.

"It...it happened so fast...So fast. We were attacked. First there was this weird pink lightning,... and then this...this thing just...just suddenly appeared in front of us! Before we could even react, it started to chase us...Kev...oh my God, Kev..." Forest said as he smoked, his eyes staring intently out the window.

Rebecca was taken aback by what he said, her mind still trying to process the information. Part of her wanted to think that this was some sort hazing ritual at work, but it was too sick to be one.

Kevin was dead?

The thought struck her with the force of a sledge hammer. She felt numb. Her eyes frantically searched around, looking for some form of assurance that proved that it wasn't true. Finding nothing, her shoulders sagged slightly with defeat.

Edward groaned, shaking the medic out of her stupor.

"Forest, focus. I need your assistance with Edward. Can you do that?" she asked.

After a brief moment of silence, Forest let out a breath through his nostrils. He flicked away the cigarette.

"Yeah," he said with a nod, turning around and lowering himself to Rebecca's position.

"Can I be of assistance?" Star's voice called out.

Forest looked up, finally noticing the red giant in the room.

"Just sit down," Rebecca said to the albino.

Star obeyed, seating himself into an empty chair.

"Forest, I need you to hold Edward's head."

Rebecca watched as Forest glanced at her prisoner before resuming.

"Got it," He replied, holding his comrade's head with both hands on either side supporting it as Rebecca patted down his body, checking for any other injuries.

Fortunately, he gave no indication of any neck injuries. He did, however, complain of chest pains. His breathing was shallow. After patting him down, Rebecca moved him into a semi-sitting position and opened up his shirt. Aside from some serious looking cuts, Edward also had some broken ribs.

'What have I gotten myself into?' she wondered to herself.

* * * * *

Forest watched the scene before him with fascination.

The rookie no longer behaved like the shy and somewhat fearful young girl that he had met at the Station. As she fixed up Edward on the floor, her manner became much calmer and more professional. When she worked, her eyes became much more focused.

What had surprised him the most, though, was the determination that she exuded. Despite being reluctant to admit it, he was impressed by her dedication. He was certain that Redfield, Valentine and Captain Wesker would have been proud to have her in Alpha. From Edward's expression, he seemed to share the same sentiment as he did.

Forest gave a slight glance toward the freakish-looking prisoner, watching as he intently studied Rebecca and her work with a look of admiration and respect.

For reasons unknown to him, the Bravo felt uncomfortable with the albino's presence.

He was given the vague impression that something was wearing his face, like a Halloween mask, although that could be attributed to his stoicism. Forest shuddered violently as he pulled his gaze away with disgust. Together with Rebecca, they worked quietly on their injured comrade.

* * * * *

Rebecca was almost finished placing on the last dressing when the glass smashed inward about four feet behind her.

All four turned their attention to the source of this disruption.

It stood up and turned to face them.

What Rebecca saw made her feel like vomiting. Her eyes were wide, her heart beating hard within her chest.

Standing there in front of her was a large dog, possibly a Rottweiler, maybe an Alsatian, though it was hard to tell what it was. To Rebecca, it looked like something from hell itself. Many large chunks of flesh were missing from its body. She could see its ribs sticking out from beneath its torn and dripping muscles. How the animal was still alive from this she had no clue. The animal must have gotten hold of Edward's scent and followed him here, the same way that a shark smells blood.

The dog started to growl.

Rebecca swallowed, reaching for her handgun, slowly standing up, her hands shaking slightly.

* * * * *

Forest slowly started to raise his rifle but whirled around when he heard another crash behind him.

* * * * *

When the second dog appeared, the one in front of the medic took that as its cue and charged forward, letting out a vicious snarl. As it leapt toward her, Rebecca fired. Three shots pounded into its hide, but it never faltered.

"You're not getting Edward!" Rebecca cried out as she fired.

The fourth shot hit the animal in its left eye, slamming it back to the ground.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Forest was struggling.

His rifle was caught within the jaws of a hell hound. He tried shaking and beating the damn thing off, but it would not let go.

Forest then pulled out his sidearm from his holster and fired.

Nothing.

"What the fuck?!" he said confusedly.

The Bravo kept pulling the trigger into the thing's head, emptying the entire clip.

To his amazement, it was still alive!

The beast wrenched his weapon away, causing him to fall over. As the bloodied dog charged over to his position, Forest swung his foot. The kick connected with the animal's head, slamming into a nearby wall. A loud crack signaled the animal's demise.

* * * * *

Rebecca panted as she tried to recollect her thoughts. When she looked back at the animal, the medic became overwhelmed with horror at what she had done.

She had just fired her weapon at an animal, with the intention to kill!

Her hands shook.

She hoped that she would never have to shoot to kill, let alone at an animal. Rebecca loved animals. To find herself shooting and killing another living creature struck a cord in her. She felt disgusted with herself.

'What have I done?' she thought with worry, shuddering with revulsion.

A noise caused the medic to look up.

"Wha?"

She watched as the animal that she had supposedly "killed" rise back up onto its feet again, causing her to question her own sanity.

'It should be dead!' she thought in incredulity.

How was it still standing?! The eye that was shot out was bleeding heavily. The remaining eye, however, glared at her with pure hatred. Snapping its jaws, the dog leapt up and slammed into Rebecca, the blow causing her to crash down hard onto the floor.

"GET OFF ME!" Rebecca yelled as she struggled to keep the hellish beast from tearing out her throat. "GET OFF! HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!"

A loud gunshot filled the air, causing the animal to dart back in surprise and pain.

Rolling over and lifting herself up, she looked up to see Edward holding his weapon with one hand, the barrel smoking.

Rebecca watched as he staggered to his feet in a slightly hunched over position, weapon trained on the animal. After two shots to the skull, the animal collapsed. Rebecca watched as Edward remained standing, sidearm still trained on the dog. With a look of satisfaction, he lowered it, then turned around to face her.

"You okay, rookie?" he asked.

Rebecca nodded and gave a thumbs up. He nodded back.

"Okay. Let me help-"

The large man never finished what he was going to say as the window behind him shattered.

"EDWARD!"

* * * * *

Edward felt a heavy weight press itself onto his back. As he struggled to get it off, something hard, wet and sharp clamped around his neck, causing Edward to scream in pain.

"GET OFF HIM!" Rebecca screamed, her weapon raised. "GET OFF HIM!"

Hot air rolled off the back of his neck as the animal chomped away with feverous glee. Pain racked his body for a few seconds until his vision started to blur. Rebecca's terrified face was starting to lose its pronounced lines, slowly becoming nothing more than a mass of colors. As she faded away, his vision began to darken, the pain slowly disappearing. Light-headed, Edward found himself wondering if everything was just a dream.

'Is this really happening?'  he wondered.

Everything was so muted.

He felt himself become increasingly tired.

'I'll just take a nap for a while,'  Edward thought to himself. Everything will be back to normal when he woke back up.

With that comforting thought, Edward Dewey drifted to dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

Rebecca watched on helplessly and appalled as the dog shook and rigorously gnawed at Edward's neck.

Partially dangling out from the window, the animal was impaled on a large chunk of glass that protruded from the window frame, showing no sign either of pain or discomfort.

Why won't it stop?

Before she even had a chance to move, Rebecca's prisoner sprung into action, ramming his right shoulder pauldron into the animal's side, causing it to both release its prey as well as bend its torso inward at an awkward angle. Edward fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Taking a step forward, she stopped as the dog redoubled its efforts to get through the window, despite its rib cage caught on its ledge. To her horror and disgust, Rebecca watched as Star raised his leg high in the air and slammed it down onto the animal's torso like a guillotine, splitting it in half, causing some of its intestines and lungs to fall out in a messy heap.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth to keep herself from vomiting.

What occurred next defied all logic. For Rebecca, it bordered on the surreal, if not the insane.

She watched speechlessly as the animal started to pull itself from its shattered and dismembered half. Half crawling toward her, it renewed its efforts, its eyes blazing with what could only be described as an insatiable hunger.

How was this even possible?

Moving a few inches forward, a large boot suddenly planted itself down on the back of its neck, partially immobilizing it as it tried to reach the owner's leg.

Trailing her eyes along the soft red leather of Star's coat to meet his gaze, Rebecca felt herself flinch at the sight. For a moment, she could have sworn that they glowed.

At the sight of her, he hesitated, the glow gone.

"Please, look away while I deal with this creature. Cover your ears as well. I'll indicate when it's over. Please," he said quietly.

Rebecca blinked with surprise by what was happening. He was genuinely concerned.

Giving a slight nod, Rebecca turned away and complied with his request.

* * * * *

Satisfied, Star looked back down at the creature beneath his boot. Now he could put the poor animal out of its misery. Raising his foot up, he prepared to deliver the final blow.

* * * * *

Forest cringed at the sound of the animal's neck cracking. Looking back up, he watched as the red-clad giant stood over it for a moment, his face cast in shadow. Looking over toward Rebecca, he started to nudge the animal's carcass aside with his foot. Letting out a sigh, Forest helped remove the body, pushing it out of the window from where it came from. Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with the strange figure, put off by the cat eyes.

"Thank you," he replied.

Uncomfortable with his presence, Forest nodded in reply, averting his eyes from the violet orbs and mask-like face before abruptly turning away, checking to make sure there weren't any more dogs around.

Satisfied, Forest turned around just in time to see the prisoner step toward the young S.T.A.R.S. medic. Reloading his sidearm, he brought it up with the speed of a rattler.

"Don't move," he ordered.

The giant stopped moving.

"I was only going to tell her that she could look now," he assured.

"I'll tell her myself," Forest said icily.

Slowly, he approached Rebecca and tapped her on the shoulder while keeping the prisoner in his place. With the tap as a sign of confirmation, she took her hands away from her ears and, with his help, got back onto her feet.

* * * * *

Rebecca quickly went over to Edward's, crouching down.

"Edward? Edward, please say something," She said as she checked for responses. She checked his breathing. Finding none, she became worried. Rebecca checked his pulse. Her heart sank.

"Is he alright?" Star asked.

Rebecca looked up at him and shook her head.

He lowered his head as she turned back to face Edward's body.

It was not her first encounter with death. At age eight, she had lost her grandmother, one of the very few people that she had loved.

At age twelve, two others that she had deeply cherished were also claimed by Death's hand, both victims of the man that had driven her to pursue this line of work.

One was the sister who never came into the world outside of the womb, the other being her beloved companion Snowball, who was looked upon fondly by herself and her mother as a member of the family.

In each instance where death was present, Rebecca felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness, despair and regret. Her heart felt heavy, like it was made from lead. Edward's death weighed down on her.

Although the two hadn't started off on good terms, part of her started to wonder whether the Bravo pilot's dislike for her was justified. It was her responsibility to ensure the physical well-being of her fellow S.T.A.R.S. members, and she had failed. She willed herself not to cry in front of others. She couldn't afford to look weak. That, however, had not stopped her from voicing what she really wanted to say to her fallen comrade.

"I'm sorry," she and Star murmured at the same time.

Glancing up at one another, the two of them looked at each other in surprise.

'Okay, that was a little odd,'  Rebecca thought, caught off-guard.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked, confused.

He was silent for a moment before responding, turning away.

"I was unable to save him," the albino answered, his frame looming solemnly over her fallen coworker.

Rebecca stared at him, surprised by how genuinely remorseful he was.

A rational part of her wanted to dismiss him as a psychopathic monster, that he was pulling off a performance, and a very convincing one in her opinion. Normal people don't just get up and slice through whole crowds of civilians for no reason. When she caught him, he had no reaction to the atrocity that he was committing! No discernible facial reaction whatsoever!

However, the more she thought about Star, the more she started to question what he was.

Could he really have been an unfortunate victim of circumstance?

Was the train really...infested...with monsters?

Her rational side wanted to dismiss it, but then again, there was hardly anything rational about what had happened.

She just saw a dismembered and horribly mutilated dog trying to scramble toward her. Reason dictated that the animal would have died of blood loss, if not from the sheer trauma of being split in half. Where was the rationality there?

Even if they were flukes, Rebecca had to take Forest's account into consideration. Kevin's death had deeply affected him, but she doubted that he was delusional. As fantastical as it had sounded, something had clearly thrown Edward through the window with considerable force and shattered his ribs.

Another detail that appeared into her mind was the image of Star telling her to look away. The way he pleaded for her to look away was enough to further increase her doubts. And the sadness within his eyes...

'What is happening?' she wondered.

Through the sounds of rain and thunder, another noise was detected. The more she listened, the heavier her heart became. It was the sound of laughter, cold, mirthless and mechanical.

* * * * *

Marini sighed as he approached a pair of washroom stalls that were placed opposite of each other.

For ten minutes, he and his men navigated past the corpses that lied scattered in various positions. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. He held his guard up as he surveyed the deceased, sidearm raised in case of a possible ambush. He kept his eye out for any sign of life, but to his disappointment, none could be found. Marini was about to dismiss the possibilities of survivors when he stopped. He raised his arm, signaling the other Bravos to hold their positions.

"Do you hear that?" Marini asked.

He listened intently. It was the sound of moaning. Based on the vocals, the person making it was a male. It was coming from the stall to his right. Stenciled in fancy lettering on the door, it was identified as the 'Gents' restroom. Slowly, Marini went up and tapped lightly against the door.

"Hello?" he called.

Silence.

"I am Captain Enrico Marini of S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team. I'm here with two other police officers. Can you hear me?"

He heard a lot of shuffling within. Aiken snorted, a smirk appearing at one side of his face.

"I think we came at a bad time, Cap," he laughed.

Marini turned to face him.

"Shut your mouth, Aiken."

"What?" Aiken said defensively. "It's obvious the guy's just trying to take a crap!"

He turned back to door, ignoring him, "Listen, you don't have to be afraid. We got the bastard cuffed. Are there any other passengers in there with you?"

The only response was an incoherent moan. Shit, the albino must have injured them severely.

"Are you hurt?"

BANG!

Marini was slightly startled by the noise as the occupant started to pound at the wood.

"Okay, calm down! We'll get you out of there! Just stand clear of the door!" he called out.

The sound of fists slamming onto wood echoed through the car.

"Sir, I can't help you if you won't cooperate. Please step away from the door," Marini said calmly.

The man continued to pound away for several seconds.

"Sir-"

The door smashed into him, knocking him back two feet into the opposite wall.

The other Bravo members backed away and raised their weapons with alarm, expecting an ambush. Three seconds after the door creaked open, they let their guard drop as they peered into the washroom stall.

The interior was completely cast in shadow, although the dim lighting outside provided some illumination. Three hidden shapes could be seen. Two of them were lying down, while the third stumbled around. From the scant details that Marini could make out, the survivor was a man in his fifties. Based on his attire, he was the conductor. Stenciled along the right breast of his coat was his name: 'J. Charles.'

Marini lowered his weapon.

"Sir, are you alright?" he called out.

The man looked over in his direction.

"It's okay, it's alright. You're safe. You have nothing to worry about," Marini assured. "Do you need medical assistance?"

Pivoting on his right foot, the figure shambled toward him with arms outstretched, moaning.

The Bravo Captain turned to his subordinate.

"Aiken, get the radio." Looking back to the advancing figure, Marini raised a placating hand. "Mr. Charles, if you're injured, I need you to stop moving. Help's on the way."

Rather than responding, the conductor mindlessly moved toward the large Hispanic. As he stepped out, Marini pulled back with a start.

In the dim lighting of the car, he was able to make out some gruesome details. The skin looked like it was...decomposing!

"Jesus!" Aiken exclaimed.

Marini unconsciously, almost instinctively inched back, away from the opposite door. Alarm bells in the back of his mind were screaming at him to get out of there.

"Sir-"

The man violently lunged forward.

Marini accidently discharged two rounds into his chest as he was tackled into the opposite wall, his sidearm knocked out from his hand.

"SIR, PLEASE! STOP THIS!" he yelled as he grappled with his opponent.

Marini audibly groaned, strained himself as he tried to push the old man back, but the old timer was unnaturally strong.

The man opened his jaws wide open, then snapped shut on empty air, narrowly missing his neck.

"HOLY FUCK!" he yelled. Marini couldn't believe it.

The man was actually trying to bite him!

The conductor snapped his jaws hungrily, though Marini was able to avoid being bitten. When he looked into the man's eyes, a feeling of dread crept up his back. The eyes were absolutely lifeless. It was like looking into the eyes of a corpse.

"GET THIS FUCKER OFF ME!" Marini roared.

He watched as Aiken moved forward and grabbed hold of the man, causing the deranged conductor to turn his attention to him.

"WHOA!" he yelled as he struggled to keep the maniac from biting him. Pulling out his taser from his right holster, Aiken jabbed it into the conductor's chest. "EAT THIS!"

The taser crackled noisily as thousands of volts were pumped into the attacker's body. The man continued on relentlessly, snapping his jaws away like a piranha.

Marini stared, stunned.

There was no reaction whatsoever!

"What is with this dude?!" Aiken exclaimed.

Just when the crazed bastard was about to take a chunk out of Aiken, Sullivan fired his weapon. The man's head jerked to the side. As the body collapsed onto the ground, it released its grip on Aiken, who stumbled back in shock.

Marini panted. His heart was racing.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he barked angrily at Sullivan.

"He was attacking you-"

"Fucking duh! Why didn't you step in to help disable him?! You killed him, Kenneth!"

Sullivan was grave silent, his face tense.

"Jesus Christ," the Bravo Captain said, his fingers tracing along his own mustache and chin, shaking his head. "The fucking rat squad and newspapers are going to tear into us!"

Sullivan said nothing.

Somehow, the man always had a calm and collected air, even during the most stressful or dangerous situations. For the most part, Sullivan was always impartial to others around him, though he would acknowledge them from time to time. Marini admired his ability to maintain himself. Part of the Bravo Captain felt that Sullivan would have been well-suited for the Marines.

He sighed.

"Thanks," he acknowledged offhandedly.

Sullivan nodded.

Marini's pulse was beating a mile a second, completely unnerved. The guy just tried to take a bite out of him. A goddamn bite!

'What the fuck?!' the Bravo Captain shouted in his head.

Aiken shook his head.

"It couldn't be helped, Captain," he said. "Did you see his eyes? He was crazed!"

Marini frowned.

Was he, though?

He knew crazy. Marini dealt with junkies and crazed homeless people while working as a beat cop. One guy he arrested years ago claimed to have been best friends with a Martian and the Devil. But this...this was something else entirely.

A small part of him reflected back to what the suspect said.

'No,' he thought. There must have been another explanation. He was unwilling to fall into the mouth of madness.

Marini closed his eyes, placing two fingers on the bridge of his nose, taking in a few, slow deep breaths.

After the seventh slow exhalation, he found himself able to think more analytically.

"The suspect must have slipped some sort of hallucinogenic drug to them," Marini said aloud. "Probably crack."

That must be it. It was the only viable explanation for the conductor's behavior. After he calmed down, he bent down to pick up his weapon before looking back up at Aiken.

"You alright?" he asked.

Richard nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, just startled, that's all." The communications expert replied.

Marini nodded before turning his attention to the open stall. He signaled to Aiken and Sullivan to cover him, raising his Samurai Edge, activating its mounted light. As he moved into the stall, his face became grimmer. Pressed up and lying lifelessly across the floor was the woman and her child. Like the conductor, their skins were decomposed. He bent down and checked their pulses.

Nothing.

* * * * *

Aiken eyed his Captain with unease as his gaze hardened.

"Goddamn it," he rumbled as he rose back up, shaking his head with disgust. "We're too late."

Sullivan said nothing.

"Let's get back to the others," Marini began. "There's nothing we-"

He was cut off as two moans filled the stall, causing him to whirl around with the light trained on the sources.

Aiken watched as the supposedly deceased bodies lifted their heads off the floor.

He was completely unnerved by the way the figures moved. It was unnatural, reminding him of "The Exorcist" or "The Evil Dead".

As the figures rose up to their feet, Aiken felt cold sweat roll down his forehead.

The others were speechless.

Like the conductor, their eyes were devoid of any sign of life.

"What the hell?" Aiken muttered quietly. "I thought you said they were dead."

"They were!" Marini said, overwhelmed.

The woman opened her mouth.

Something black and slimy dropped out from her lips, splattering onto the floor. Aiken gagged at the sight, turning his head slightly away. Upon hearing the noise, the woman and her child raised their heads, their mouths gaping open. Together, they stumbled forward with their arms outstretched. All of the Bravos backed away. As mother and child stepped out from the stall, Aiken fought the urge to wretch.

Dripping out from the woman's mouth were thick, black leeches that splattered onto the floor. The leeches were sliding in and out through the flesh of their necks and cheeks.

Groaning in disgust, Aiken fired his weapon. He never really meant to do it. It was purely out of reflex. The Bravo heard Marini shout, but he couldn't hear what he had said.

Part of him felt like he was outside of his own body, watching the horrible action being committed. Time seemed to slow.

The round caught the woman in the heart, but she didn't fall. As he watched the woman move forward, Aiken couldn't help but feel both surprise and revulsion.

Another disgusting creature started to stretch outward. However, rather than dropping onto the floor, the leech curled itself back into the woman's mouth like a sickening tongue or tendril.

That pushed him over the edge.

Aiken kept firing. Eleven rounds were shot into her body, and not once did she flinch.

Instead, something else happened, something which chilled him to the core.

The various parts of the woman's body that were hit with handgun rounds started to swell. Before either his Captain or comrade could say anything, leeches sprung out from her body like springs, causing the S.T.A.R.S. members to let out yells of exclamation and duck as they splattered against the wall or crawled along the floor.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE FUCK?!" Aiken screamed as he ducked and stomped on the fat little bastards. "WHAT THE FUCK?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"

Looking back to the pair, the Bravos raised their weapons, though there was hesitation. The idea of firing upon a woman and child sickened Aiken tremendously, and no doubt Marini as well.

"Don't come any closer," Marini warned.

As both woman and child moved toward the Bravos, their skins started to swell and bubble. One leech sprung into the air like a wound up spring, forcing Aiken to discharge his weapon, catching it midair. As more bubbles started to form, the Bravos unloaded into the pair, firing everything they had into both the monstrous woman and child. Dozens of rounds pounded into their flesh before they collapsed to the floor. Then, to everyone's shock, they pushed themselves back up.

Aiken stared, horrified.

"Don't get up," he begged. "Please don't get up."

Just as the obscene duo raised themselves up to their knees, Sullivan double-clipped into their skulls, splattering their brains against the wall. As the cadavers fell back with a thud, the Bravos stood there, panting. Waiting. Several seconds passed by, and none of the bodies moved. It was at that moment that Aiken threw up.

* * * * *

Outside of the eighth car, a tall figure encased in thick armor was hidden within the shadows.

Empress Type-1210 watched with cold amusement as the three humans fought off the undead.

Part of her was surprised to find them present within this world.

Was her master involved with this?

She was unconcerned about it. She was more intent on killing them. Part of her wanted to rush in and slaughter everyone onboard, including the one in the red coat and she would have too if not for her orders.

Empress recalled the thrill of having killed that pitiful being at the helicopter.

She had killed him far too quickly for her own taste. She should have been slower and more deliberate, thereby prolonging the pleasurable experience.

That was not entirely her fault, though. It had been far too long since she last killed something that felt pain. Empress then recalled the looks that were on the humans' faces, especially the one that she had sliced in half with one of her prized weapons.

The other two were frightened like rabbits. Like a tigress, she had chased them, though at the same time taking care to give them a bit of a head-start.

One of them managed to put up a bit of a fight, but its attempts were laughable. One clean uppercut into the chest, and he was airborne.

Underneath her helmet, she grinned. The way that the other human ran was hysterical. She had never seen a human run so fast! She could have caught up if she wanted to, but she had stopped when she caught a glimpse of both the train and her target. Afterward, she shrunk back into the forest to fully analyze the situation as well as checking for other people onboard. She'll collect her target soon, though not after having some fun with the other humans. After all, all work and no play can leave a woman dissatisfied.

With that thought in mind, she barked out a laugh. Though it was blocked out by the thunder and the rain, the laughter was clear and distinctive enough to be heard.