Decomposition
This Day We Fight!
((OOC: I'll use my old character from the old RE thread too, seeing as he and Xornon's dude whooped total ass...including each others from time to time 😛))
"Sir!....Mal, wake up!"
"Ugh...piss off...tired..."
"Mal, god damn it, there's shit loads of those things out there and you want to sleep? You're mad."
Malconin sat up slowly, chuckling low. "Funny, I've been told that alot over the last few years. But hey, multiple exposure to the virus, turning into a monster that scared the shit out of myself, killing my friends..." he shrugged casually, "Give me a break, so I'm a little crazy. I was the CEO of Umbrella at one point remember, being crazy is a requirement of the job."
"Not to mention turning your wife into something more than human and-"
"I wouldn't go any further Johnson. You know that topic is off limits."
"So, shoot me."
A wicked grin split Malconin's face. "So tempting." He rose gingerly, clutching at the gash on his right side and breathing shallowly for the pain. "How many?"
Johnson peered out through the dirty, cracked window, puffing out an annoyed breath. "Thirty, maybe forty?"
Mal checked to make sure his gold plated Desert Eagle was fully loaded as he joined Johnson by the window. "Forty? Piece of cake, even with you getting in my way."
Johnson shouldered his AK and glanced sideways at Mal. "Perhaps I should just stay here and watch you get overrun, eh?"
Mal snorted. "Yeah, either that or-" his hand snapped out, clasping Johnson by the back of the collar and with little effort, despite Johnson being a large man, pitched him through the window, the big mercenary landing sprawled in a field of shattered glass. Two shots from his Desert Eagle quickly followed, taking down the nearest of the undead with perfect head shots and giving Johnson time enough to recover from his shock.
The mercenary quickly slotted into his element, the AK roaring to life and mowing down the first dozen or so zombies, Mal taking down half a dozen more with his always perfect head shots. His hightened senses and abilities kicking in with the adrenaline, he lept nimbly out the window and scaled a downpipe up to the roof in mere seconds, perching on the flourescent advertising sign and reloading his weapon.
In less than a minute, the road was litted with the corpses of the once dead, Mal holstering his Desert Eagle and gritting his teeth against the pain as his infliction tried to take control of his body once more. Fumbling in the left pocket of his cargo's, he pulled a small glass tube out and with shaking hands, worked the top open, gulping down the contents.
After several more minutes of agony, he managed to regain complete control of his body and slowly worked his way down the access ladder on the opposite side of the building and back around to Johnson, who watched his approach with considerable concern.
"You okay Mal?"
"Never been better," he managed to spit through gritted teeth, "Lets just get the hell out of here, I need more of that Anti-Virus."
((OOC: Well, thats a start anyway))