Several disappearances and unexplained events have been registered shorty after the commercialization of an ancient statue linked to some legends from a mysterious place called "Reich der Finsternis" in eastern Germany, there is no know route leadin...
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The riot
The officer's scream, combined with the monstrous entities' noises, sent a wave of panic through the squad. The frantic shouts of the other cadets blended together, making it impossible to understand any of them. From deep within the forest, a strange light began to emerge, and soon, the pale, corpse-like faces of the villagers appeared. Many of them were grotesquely deformed, the result of rot and decay. Their expressions were twisted with madness, their blood-red eyes glowing with pure hatred. They carried oil lamps and an assortment of weapons: hunting axes, machetes, scythes, and muskets, all prepared for slaughter.
There were no more than fifteen villagers at first, but as they drew nearer, they seemed to multiply, their shadows stretching ominously in the dim light. The police force froze, stunned by the murderous glares directed their way. Steffi and another officer hurried to drag the wounded man away from the approaching mob.
The villagers stopped just short of the squad, having reached their full number. They stood there, glaring with contempt, letting out monstrous cries that sent birds fleeing from their nests. One of them, holding a musket, leveled it at the squad and let out a fierce roar. It echoed through the woods, unmistakably the signal to attack.
With that, the mob charged, like rabid beasts. Nick was the first to fire, dropping two of them with clean shots to the head. The rest of the German officers quickly followed suit, forming a line of defense. Liz and Bernard didn't hesitate to join them, their guns firing in sync with the rest of the squad. The sound of gunfire echoed through the dark night.
For several minutes, the squad maintained their barrage. Though they brought down the creatures with relative ease, the demonic horde kept growing. More villagers with rotting, sickly complexions and tattered clothes flooded in. It was hard to believe that even with their pale skin and festering sores, they could move with such terrifying speed.
As Liz fired at one group after another, it reminded her of the brutal shootouts back in California in '97, when she'd helped take down some of the most dangerous gangs near her hometown. The adrenaline surged, and she found herself checking on her fellow officers, all fighting for their lives. Nick, in particular, was astonishingly efficient. Liz could see why Ulrich wanted him on the team.
The villagers continued to shout incoherent phrases in eerie, trembling voices, barely audible over the German agents' battle cries. Liz and Bernard found themselves face to face with three villagers in ragged clothes. They glared at the agents with wild eyes, gripping machetes, ready to tear them apart. Liz kept her aim steady, focusing on the nearest threat. The creatures moved slowly at first, their steps calculated, forcing Liz to constantly adjust her target while retreating, trying to keep a safe distance.
Suddenly, one of the villagers—a haggard woman with a dagger—snarled, her voice dripping with hatred. Her words were labored but filled with venom:
"Und jetzt ist es vorbei, du verdammte Schlampe und Fehlgeburt. Ich habe 'ne kleine Überraschung für dich." (And now it's over, you fucking bitch, I've got a little surprise for you.)
The situation pushed the agents' adrenaline to its peak. Just as several of the creatures lunged at Liz, she managed to fend them off with precise shots to their chests. Chris, amidst the chaos, was doing his best to cover the group, with Steffi aiding him. The larger groups seemed to focus on the U.S. agents, as if they had marked them as their primary targets. Ulrich, Chris, and Steffi didn't hesitate to support them. In that moment, Liz realized how crucial it was to rely on one another.
The revolting creatures fell one by one to the relentless gunfire. But as the fight wore on, things grew more chaotic. The U.S. agents found themselves separated as they retreated. Bernard, in particular, caught the attention of several of the villagers. They surrounded him, brandishing their weapons, their voices filled with vile threats in an inhuman tone:
"Lass uns diesen Arschloch umbringen! Los, lasst ihn nicht entkommen!" (Let's kill this asshole! Come on, don't let him get away!)
Liz and Chris noticed Bernard's predicament and moved to help him. But before they could react, the five villagers dropped dead, as if struck down by some divine intervention. Bernard spun around in confusion, searching for whoever had just saved him. To his surprise, it was Nick.
The officer stood barely two meters away, watching him with that same serious expression. Bernard couldn't believe that after the way Nick had treated him and Liz, he would still step in to save his life. He wanted to thank him, but ended up turning his back to deal with the next threat.
Just as the situation seemed to calm, a thunderous roar echoed from the forest, freezing even the bloodthirsty villagers in their tracks. They exchanged quick, nervous glances at the edges of the forest, while the officers raised their rifles, unaware of what was coming. The bestial roar was soon followed by savage howls—demonic wolves. The squad was paralyzed. Bernard felt a cold shiver run down his spine, vividly recalling the searing pain and pressure of wolf fangs sinking into his skin.
The howling was joined by the thunderous pounding of massive paws tearing through the rocks and underbrush. In the blackness, the fiendish yellow eyes of the rotting wolves reappeared. Liz and Bernard shared a horrified glance, feeling like they were being thrown back into the hellish Roman circus they had barely survived before. The beasts' black fur was matted with blood, and they bore wounds across their bodies, but they moved with frightening agility, driven by pure malice.
The squad could feel the tension rising—things were about to get a lot worse. However, the wolves' first targets weren't the officers, but the villagers. One by one, the fiendish beasts tore into them, sending the rest of the mob fleeing with curses and screams. The peons howled in agony as the wolves' devastating jaws shredded their decaying flesh. Slowly, the beasts ripped them apart, limb by limb. The scene was enough to make even the hardened agents sick to their stomachs.
"Shit," Liz muttered, feeling her gut churn as she watched the grotesque slaughter. "Once they're done with the appetizers, we're next on the menu. And we still gotta find Max."
Beside her, Bernard and Chris watched in grim silence as more wolves joined the carnage, their cold, predatory eyes now locked onto the agents. Ulrich and Steffi stepped forward, raising their weapons toward the advancing beasts.
"We'll handle these things," Steffi declared, her voice steady despite the chaos. "You go find your friend."
Liz stared at her, bewildered. She knew exactly how dangerous these wolves were.
"No way," she said, shaking her head. "We're not leaving you to deal with this alone."
"Lenz is right," Ulrich added, his deep voice commanding authority. "We can manage this. Go with Chris. He'll help you, and we'll keep in touch."
Chris opened his mouth to object, his eyes fixed on the wolves already preparing to strike. But before he could protest, Nick stepped in from behind, facing the beasts as well.
"Du hast ihn schon gehört, Schreiber, also geh uns aus den Augen! Verschwinde jetzt!" (You heard him, Schreiber, get out of our sight! Get moving already!)
Nick's harsh words were followed by a volley of gunfire as the officers began shooting at the approaching wolves. Furious, but knowing he had no choice, Chris clenched his jaw and obeyed Ulrich's orders. He hurried to help Liz and Bernard leave the area, guiding them toward the town while the rest of the team tried to hold the line against the savage attack.
