Steven flew down the graveled ice, the cold night air whipping his face and tugging at his coattails.

Buford ran a few feet ahead of him. The dog could have left him in the dust but was holding back.

Steven took count of the monsters as he drew close.

It was mostly the Shambling Peasants, but several were moving with enough speed and coordination that they passed for humans.

That’s bad. Plus, with this many, there might be a Unique Creation here.

He was basing that guess on what he knew of game design. While this was very, very real, the System had given them levels and thrown them into a scenario with quest objectives. It was probably a safe bet to expect more game-like rules—like a mini-boss being surrounded by their underlings.

The screaming hadn’t stopped, which was a good thing. It meant the person was still alive.

They reached the back of the mob.

The Skill box in the corner of his vision pulsed, and he once again felt a silent pull from it.

With all the screaming, being stealthy was a moot point. Steven activated the sound Augment as he called his shields.

The fastest Shamblers were in the front, slamming against the front door. Steven started there, materializing a shield in front of the door with a sound trap set to medium on it.

He wanted to do heavy, but he wasn’t sure how much force it would take to trigger the Augment.

The Shambler slammed their fist against the shield.

BOOM!

The monster staggered back as a painfully loud boom sounded from his shield.

All of their attention was taken by the screaming and the shield, so not a single Shambling Peasant was ready for Buford to crash into them like a landslide.

Two died almost instantly as the backline collapsed. One’s head was crushed under a paw, another under his jaws, and then Steven was there. Tripping and slowing the Shamblers as Buford went to work.

They had killed six of them before the fast ones realized something was wrong.

The lead Shambler, whose eyes were a gleaming red, let out a dusty moan before rushing at Steven.

He threw up a shield at its shins, but the monster leaped the glowing green barrier like it had been expecting it.

“Shit!” Steven barely managed to dodge a fist followed by a bite.

“Buford!” The dog was occupied, however, with two slow and one fast Shambler ganged up on him.

Steven was too slow with his next dodge and took a punch to the face. Pain blasted from his cheek, and his vision swam.

The Shambler slammed into him before he could recover, taking them to the ground.

Protect your neck!

Steven called a shield to his neck, but nothing happened.

You need to dismiss a shield first, idiot!

He frantically banished a shield. The beautiful oval formed in front of his neck and chin with a sound trap just as the Shambler’s face crashed down, its teeth clacking.

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The trap triggered, and the wave of noise made the Shambler go stiff.

The shield protected Steven from the trap, thankfully, or he would have blown out his eardrums.

His vision cleared, and he kneed the Shambler off him. Still stunned from the noise, it staggered back.

A gunshot cracked through the air, and the Shambler dropped back onto the shield, a bullet wound in its temple.

Margie had caught up.

Steven shoved it off before dismissing the shield and rolling to his feet.

Buford had killed the remaining slow ones but had taken a bloody gouge to his snout.

The two remaining fast Shamblers were circling the malamute, waiting for an opening.

Steven felt a hot flash of anger break through his calm at the sight of blood on Buford’s snout.

“Get away from him!” Their red eyes glanced to Steven for a moment. Buford didn’t waste the distraction.

He pounced at the nearest Shambler, taking it to the ground.

Steven threw his shields at the other, calling one behind its knee and the other in front of its face.

It jerked back from the green covering its vision and promptly tripped over the second shield.

Buford killed his Shambler, and another shot from Margie took down the one Steven had tripped.

He looked around, scanning for another enemy, but none were left.

Except the screaming hadn’t stopped. It still poured from the house constantly, only stopping long enough for the person to suck in a breath.

Should they break down the door or go through the window?

Going inside was going to be risky since they couldn’t dodge as freely, but he couldn’t just ignore that scream.

The choice was taken from them a moment later when the window exploded outward as a man came tumbling through.

He was dressed similarly to the rest of them, and he was lucky for it since his duster stopped him from slicing himself open on the shards of broken glass.

He rolled to a stop at Steven’s feet; one arm clutched tightly to his side.

The man, who had been screaming until he hit the ground, gaped up at them, his eyes filled with terror. “Run!”

A shadow appeared in the broken window.

“Buford, pull him back!” The dog rushed forward and grabbed the man by the back of his coat. He dragged him away, sliding over the ice like he weighed nothing.

He glanced at Margie to see her reloading her rifle.

He dismissed his shields, readying himself for whatever followed.

The monster decided to follow the wounded man but, apparently, was too good for the window.

The entire wall broke as a hulking form slowly walked through it.

The wall didn’t explode, mind you. It was far slower than that. Boards and bricks slowly pushed out as the massive thing walked towards them, treating the solid wall like a bug screen.

Steven started backing up.

Buford rejoined him, having drug the man a few dozen feet back.

The monster finished walking through the wall, and an errant ray of moonlight shone down, illuminating the thing against the dark house.

“You know, I could be wrong, but I think this might just be another Unique Creation,” Margie said, her voice dry. Steven could pick up a kernel of fear in it.

“I hope it’s Unique. Cause we’re fucked if there’s a bunch of these things walking around.”

The monster was technically a Shambling Peasant in that it shared the too-tight purple skin and luminous eyes, but that was where the similarities ended.

It was easily eight feet tall, with an absurdly muscled frame that looked like it was trying to burst out of its dark suit.

Said suit was stretched and ripped, with grey stains around the cuffs and a bright green bow tie barely holding against its colossal neck.

Two mallet-like fists clenched at its sides, and its glowing green eyes locked onto the fallen man.

Fear started to creep in, but Steven squashed it. No time for that now.

The monster had bulky metal screws sticking out of the sides of its neck, their lengths sparking with electricity.

Okay, so even shot, that purple Frankenstein’s monster has lightning powers, or it’s just part of the aesthetic.

Margie shot the monster in the head.

It rocked back, but didn’t fall. Its face slowly lowered to reveal a bloody gash on its forehead, but that was it. They had shot it in the face and only managed to give it a flesh wound.

“Well…shit,” Margie said.

The monster bellowed, then charged them.