War Of The Race's

CH 17: Revengeful Attacks PT2

[...You, I hate you...]

Finpa moved under countless bodies, slowly crawling over her fellow troops; she was drenched in blood and brain matter as her scent was filled with death, copper filling her nose, blood trickling down her face as more blood dug itself into her clothes and turned her blue scales completely red as the blood dried on her scales.

  The sight would make anyone vomit and scream in primal horror if unused to it-- unfortunately for Finpa, she was used to it. She winced in pain-- slowly clutching her shoulder as deep red blood gushed out of the wound; she could hear gunshots go off every second, drawing closer with each one. Darkness shrouded her vision as she-- was buried under a mountain of bodies; she would drag-- herself to a small pocket of light, constantly stopping as bodies on top of her shifted-- or if she heard footsteps.

  Muffled voices came from every direction, her ears constantly perking, her head jerking-- and movement slowing; her talons jutted out, they themselves sharp as daggers.

  She moved closer to the light, but then suddenly stopped; her claws grabbed onto-- something-- only for it to yelp in pain, "I- I- am a troop," a shaky voice replied, the voice hiccupped and strained as if the person was holding back tears. Finpa immediately let go and continued advancing.

  As much as she would have liked to help the person, there was no time for such heroics; the clock was ticking down before whoever attacked put a bullet in her brain as well, she could only pray that the rest of B.L. wasn't met with fatal wounds, she need not worry about what they were doing as she knew of their abilities and that they could take care of themselves.

  While her wound pained her-- it did little to slow her down, her clenched teeth and wrinkled face taking the brunt of the pain off of her. Once she had made it to the end of the light; she saw more mountains of bodies, intestines falling out of stomachs and landing on more bodies below, pools of deep red blood making entire puddles as it trickled down each seat and person, the people who were slaughtered having a look of fear and dreadfulness, their eyes wide, lips pulled back, and mouths opened as tongues fell out of their mouths; the look permanently ingrained on their unmoving corpses.

  "I'mma go look for more OK! Make sure the dolls here are donezo got it!?" Finpa's face contorted at the sound of the high-pitched-bubbly voice; it almost sounded like a child; which she knew for a fact, none were present.

  Finpa knew it wasn't the UCA who could've done this; they had done way too much just to kill random troops and their own kind, the only guards present were AU, but she knew it wasn't them as she had seen several get gunned down before falling herself, the only options that ran through her mind were either F.A.M. as their presence was extremely heavy in Europe, or CLAW, either way, their security failed them, radicals had infiltrated, and now dozens are dead.

  Indistinct eruptions and gunfire seethed on from the exterior of the building which had been going on for quite some time, each bomb vibrated the building, making dust plunge down on the room, or broken glass shattering, pained cries and gurgles also filling her ears from the evident battle going on outside.

  Finpa dragged her body through the hole, her horns snagging on pieces of clothes or fur from the dead above her, her black and light blue fainted hair clumping together from the volumes of blood that had dried on her; it was stiff and unmoving like drying concrete.
  Finpa's eyes dilated as she had finally made it out of the dark crawlspace of bodies, quickly crouching and taking cover between the rows of seats, the bodies serving as more cover for her.