I take one last minute to check my equipment. Everything’s cocked, mags are full, safeties off. Hollow points are loaded into all three guns. If anyone has armor, Ivy will solve that problem. Ivy takes one last check of her equipment as well.

We start our slow, silent descent. I listen at the top of every staircase before stepping out of cover just in case. We did make some noise, and we don’t exactly have the best intel. An ambush is entirely possible, and we have to be prepared. We sweep every floor silently, not moving on until we’ve ensured nobody is above us.

The further down we go the more garbage we find. Used needles, broken drug paraphernalia, forgotten places to sleep, and even bones are strewn about. Those had better not be recent. Once we reach what is currently the second floor I hear breathing.

Quiet. People.

Number? She signs back.

I close my eyes to concentrate. I can hear whispers from at least three people. I can’t quite make out the words, but I do hear a fourth voice shush him. Do not tell me we walked into a fucking ambush.

Four. At least. Ambush?

She creeps over to the front of the building and peeks outside through a crack.

Outside. Eight.

So maybe not an ambush? Or at least not a big one. I continue listening, trying to get any idea what’s going on. After a few minutes one of them speaks up.

“Maybe they’re not coming.”

“Shut up!” Another man whispers loudly, followed by what sounds like a smack to the back of the head and a small chuckle. Definitely an ambush.

Ambush. I relay to her.

I heard. I flashbang. Stairs. You. Explosive. Floor.

I don’t think either one of us even entertained the thought of leaving the way we came. We’re going to make this work. We have to.

I place the charge in the center of the room and grab a match. Ivy and I light our respective explosives at the same time and I dive for cover. Ivy tosses the flashbang down the stairs and dives for cover of her own. Explosives aren’t exactly known for being the safest things, especially homemade ones. While we probably could stand in the open and be fine, gamblers tend to stop living.

“What the-” someone yells from down below only to be cut off by a loud explosion.

Even from a floor up the flashbang makes my ears ring. The shaped charge goes off an instant later, blowing a massive hole in the floor.

I draw both of Lucas’ guns and start wildly firing into the new hole. I can’t see anything through the smoke, but that’s fine. You don’t need to see if you just shoot everything.

Ivy leans her head out on the stairs and starts popping shots into the smoke. How the fuck is she seeing through the smoke?

“Push!” Ivy calls and starts her way down the stairs.

I replace the SMGs with my pistol and knife while I run towards the hole. I leap into the smoke and land towards the edge of the room. I have only a heartbeat to take in the room before dashing into cover. We’ve hit three of them, but they’re still standing, even with massive chunks missing from their body. Every one of them is letting out a bone chilling laugh where their screams should have been.

One is dead on the floor with a hole in his skull, and the others are trying to get their senses back. More than I thought, but not unmanageable, as long as we’re fast.

I dash full speed towards the nearest person and drive my knife into the base of his skull. His spine is severed before he can realize what’s happening. He drops to the ground limp.

I fire three bullets at the others while I dive into cover. They don’t even react. Twelve bullets left. Ivy is completely down the stairs and in cover now. I pop up and fire five more times, hitting one in the head and finally putting him down. Finally Ivy and I take the rest of them down.

“How the fuck did they take that many bullets? Front door!” I yell out.

I pull out Lucas’ guns and keep sustained fire on the door as more people rush in. Even when I hit vital organs they keep coming, and so does their laughter.

Ivy focuses on those that manage to pull their rifles up while I slow those I can. Anything but a shot to the head just isn’t enough. After a few of them come in and are slowly mowed down they stop. From outside I can hear someone yelling.

“Stop! Stop going in! One of you, go get backup!”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Fuck.

“You hear that?” I ask Ivy quietly.

“Yeah. Clear downstairs, I’ll watch the front.” She says while reloading. She leans Vince’s rifle on her cover and pulls out her big fuck off gun. Next person to come through that door won’t have a chest anymore.

“On it.”

I swap out my own mags and head to the stairs. Pistol and knife in hand. If bullets won’t take them down, I’ll do it personally. I clear floor after floor, each one is more messy than the last. The amount of bones grows, along with my dread. Finally I reach the bottom landing. A sturdy metal door stands in front of me. I open it.

In front of me is a grisly scene. Humans, both corpses and living, hang along every wall and the floor is thick with their blood. Every single one of the still living humans have had limbs hacked off cleanly and then cauterized. Three of the corpses even have organs hanging out, along with one who’s still breathing.

In front of me is a fat man hacking away at the upper torso of a woman with his back to me. The whole room must be sound proof for him to not have heard the explosions from upstairs.

“Food’ll be ready when it’s ready.” He brings down his cleaver once again. “Just like it always is.”

Fuck. No time to think. I sprint forward, stumbling slightly as I slip on the blood. He begins to turn at the sound but I’m faster. I drag my knife quickly against the back of his knee, severing the tendons. He lets go of his cleaver in surprise as he falls to one knee.

His laughs of pure joy fill the room.

The chef reaches out for his cleaver, I could drive my knife into his neck and be done, but I want this to hurt. I plunge my knife through his hand, pinning it to the table. Before he can do anything else I take his cleaver and bring it down on his wrist. I’m going to take him apart just like he took these people apart.

He lunges away from me with surprising speed for just one functional leg, towards the furnace. He presses his stump against a hot metal, causing his flesh to sizzle and bubble, cauterizing the wound. All the while he keeps laughing.

Is this thing even human? Fuck it. I grab my pistol and shoot him in the head. It’s more than he deserves. He slumps against the furnace. I’m suddenly really glad I’ve never eaten meat in my life.

At the very back of the room I spy a man with curly black hair. He’s watching me with familiar dark brown eyes. Is that Xavier? Fuck, it is. He’s strung up by his hands and is missing everything south of his belly button. His intestines spill out of him and are piled on the floor. The monster who did this is experienced, he’s barely losing any blood.

“Cassie?” He’s so weak he can barely talk.

“Xavier!” I sprint over to him. What the fuck can I even do to help him?

“Kill me.” He begs weakly.

“Xavier, we’ll get someone to help you. It’ll be ok. I just-”

“Please. It hurts.” He lets his head fall to his chest, his energy already gone.

He’s not going to live. If we have to wait until the storm he’s going to be here for days. Fucking fuck! There’s nothing I can do to help him, but I can’t let him slowly die here.

“Thank you for your sacrifice. I won’t let it be in vain.” I wipe tears out of my eyes to line up the shot. It’s for the best. As much as I want to, I can’t let myself look away in his final moments.

“Thank you.”

I pull the trigger.

I slowly walk back to the cleaver and pick it up. How many people has this thing butchered? Its handle is covered in blood, just like my hand. I pick it up and plunge it into the chef’s head. Again. Again.

“Fucking! Bastard! Cannibals! Fucker! Shit!” I leave the clever embedded in what’s left of his head.

I wipe my eyes once again and look around. I have a job to do, and I’m not about to let my fucking emotions ruin that. None of the living look as bad as Xavier. Wait a second. Most of them look vaguely familiar, even if I don’t know their names. Is everyone in here part of Silver’s gang? This wasn’t just a suicide mission, it was a silver fucking platter.

Ivy will be fine upstairs for a bit. I spend a minute to unlock all five people who are still alive. I gently lower down the ones who can no longer stand. I don’t have enough food for everyone.

“I’m with Silver’s. Does anyone know if there’s non meat food here?”

“There’s none.” One of the younger men says. He won’t look into my eyes.

“Shit.” I’m not making them eat more meat. “Anyone who wants to get revenge, come with me. All the bandits are outside, and we’re holding the door until the sands take them. Everyone else, try and find food and water if you can walk. Especially water. Uh, good luck. Ivy and I will be upstairs.” How the hell does Silver make speeches after every storm?

If I stay in this room any longer I’m going to vomit. I run back upstairs. Ivy has created a little bunker for herself just outside the view of the open door. We’re lucky the stairs are tucked in the corner of the floor. If either of us steps into the open we’re almost certainly going to take fire from outside. I slide in next to her.

“They’re fucking cannibals.”

“I was worried about that.”

“Sev- six people were still alive down there. I think they’re all from Silver’s. One or two might be able to hold a gun, but they’re in no position to fight. I told the others to find some water. We’re going to be going hungry for a bit, they don’t exactly eat vegetables.”

“Wonderful. Go set some traps at the top of these stairs. Just in case anyone tried to sneak up on us.”

“On it.” I pull out two of the shotguns, some string, and get to work. I’m grateful for something to focus on, even if I must have done this a hundred times. It only takes me ten minutes to get the shotguns clamped to the wall and to run fishing wire at knee height. I’m not confident it’ll stop any of these freaks, but it’ll warn us they’re coming.

“Done.” I tell her, taking my spot in her bunker once again. “Nobody came up yet?”

“Nope.”

“Makes sense. They were pretty fucked up, physically and mentally.”

“I don’t think anyone’s going to be attacking for a while. I can go talk to them.” Ivy offers.

“Sure. Just, try not to judge. Whatever you see.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, we all do things we’re not proud of.”

Of course she can see right through me.

She leaves Vince’s rifle and heads downstairs. I pick it up for the little comfort it gives me. At any moment who knows how many of them could rush in with no warning.

We should have left closer to the next storm. This is going to be a fucking miserable couple of days.