Army of the Damned

VOLUME 4 Chapter 3

Deep within the fringes of Northern Vitas, its cripplingly cold region where even the toughest of creatures meet their doom was an Mi-24V Hind Gunship helicopter flying through thick snow. Flying low as patches of frozen ice covered the waters and the navigation lights of the carrier it came from disappearing through the cold uncaring blizzard. Inside it was a team of Spetsnaz troops about to get deployed.

Donning combat fatigues lined with fur and on their kevlar vests were black magic gems that were constantly steaming. "They say this place should be perfect for our Northern Fleet to stage an invasion, comrades of the Guild of Red Star, it's our time to be thrown into the hungry war machine!" The burly man's slavic accent was thick and strong. "URA! Let's get this over with and go home! I want to eat some McDonalds back at home!"

"Da! How far are we from landing?" The fuselage of the Hind was rattling violently as it flew through the thick snowstorm, its two player Pilots in absolute concentration in controlling the aircraft with immense precision as the wipers in front of their windows did very little to make things visible for them. The pilot in control has to constantly check his map and stare at the temperature of the engine. "Vulture to Wolf, we're less than One Kilometer from the landing zone. Prepare for insertion."

"Da Vulture, Wolf is ready for deployment." The Gunship slowly descends, the icy ground becoming visible from the cockpit and passenger windows. The Pilot then sees flashing lights inside the snowstorm. With precision movements, he's able to swiftly and softly land the armored helicopter, the doors flip open and Wolf exits it and their squad leader greets a player waiting for them. "доброе утро. The truck is ready for you guys, follow me." With an equally fur lined and thick multi layered set of clothes, he takes them to his truck. Below the back chassis, a blowtorch is turned at full power, pointed at the rear axles. "Comrade, how cold is it here?"

"-56 at night. -30 in the mornings." Shaking his head, the squad leader looked down on his map and couldn't even see the supposed forest around them. "Ну и блядь. That's extremely cold." With rucksacks taller than them, they had to drag them through the helipad and into the back of the 6X6 transport truck that was getting its differentials preheated for the trip. "Just like how it is in the Urals ehy?"

"Hahahaha, back at home too. Do not worry my Western friend, we will get you there in no time." Hopping in the back, the trucker removes the blowtorch below the chassis and throws them some propane to use on the heater that's been welded into the center of the passenger compartment. "Vulture to Wolf, good luck. We'll be taking off, priyom."

The helicopter takes off behind them, billowing snow and shards of ice as it vanishes into the snowstorm. The truck slowly rolls and as it gains traction, the man driving accelerates and gains high speed on the empty flat ice. The 8-man Spetsnaz squad callsign Wolf stays silent on the entire way to the FoB. Cleaning and checking their weapons. All of them were tall and burly men in Winter Gorka's that had their winter fatigues inside alongside multiple layers of clothing. Armed with AK-12 assault rifles, RPG rocket launchers, PKP light machine guns. The special squad was armed to the teeth complete with night vision goggles to the boot except for the Elf in their team.

Light tumbles wave through the back as the truck makes contact with the shoreline, passing through an abandoned medieval fishing town and soon, the frozen forest before entering an icy wasteland. There were no signs of life anywhere, none of them could even hear anything except the wild billowing wind.

Reaching the other side, they're met with a vast empty field of nothing but snow and dead beasts with multiple arms and legs sticking out of its large round fleshy bodies. The Ural truck follows the dirt path made for carriages, going above 40 Km/h as Abominations appear from the snowstorm. Able to keep up with the vehicle's pace. Hearing its wild and rabid pants, one of their squadmates opens the flap and they could see the bulletridden Hellspawn still trying to go after its enemies.