The Hunters

Darkness covered the once beautiful and active city, white clouds always seemed to pass this place as if frightened by the grotesque beings inside its walls. Isaac, walked the deserted streets, cars had been flipped on their sides, fires were forever raging in different areas. His handgun had only one clip left, what he would after that clip was gone was beyond his comprehension. Blood stained the cracked pavement, window had been shattered and everywhere he looked bodies lay. This had been the work of one company, Arcane Corp. This huge, corporation stood alone by being funded by the Russian government to create superhumans by using experiments. However, these experiments had gone too far causing the test subjects to have increased aggression, super strength, strategic minds and ultimately a hunger for flesh. Isaac, knew that he was not the only survivor in Beville. These Hunters he called them were always around, searching for new prey. He scratched the top of head. His once long, black hair had now been cut into military fashion. Isaac had managed to find a building he kept shelter in during certain hours of the day, but his safety neevr increased. These "things" could get into any place, anywhere.
Suddenly he heard something from behind him, shifting to looking around he saw a shadow against and alley. Pointing his gun up, the fiugre bolted from its cover, charging rapidly toward Isaac, the roar of hunger came from his bloody lips. The man began to unload a few bullets at it, blood flying from the parts he hit but the Hunter kept on coming. Isaac started stepping backwards to gain some distance between the enemy as he fired. Finally after about the tenth shot the creature fell, blood oozing from its head as it flailed for a few moments before dying.
Isaac breathed a sigh of relief only to realize he only had about fifteen bullets left.
"I need to find a store that would usually house ammuniton and weapons." He said, pondering and going through the map of the city in his mind.

A man in a russian military uniform rounded the corner spinning what seemed to be old western revolvers. He wore no beret, but his badges clearly identified him as a man of high rank. He was young with blonde hair and blue eyes. His face was gaunt and he was quite thin, but the strangest thing about him was that there was not a single smear of blood anywhere on the man.
"Talkin' to yourself?" he prompted as he raised his gun to aim it at Isaac's head. "I'd ask you if you were one of them, but I think i'll leave that to my trusty guns." He pulled a single bullet from the ammo belt that ran over one shoulder and under the other across his back and chest. Where his beret should have been, however, was a blue bandana wrapped around his head like that of a stereotypical ninja. A fresh bullet appeared where he had just taken one from. "Infinite ammo." he scoffed, pointing at the bandana. He put the single bullet into the loading mechanism of one revolver and spun it. He then proceeded to spin and juggle the revolvers, occasionally shooting nothing. He lowered the guns after he had repeated it a few times, enjoying watching the man before him wince. "Looks like you're alright." he said. "Why don't you come with me and we'll get you some equipment, but you don't get a bandana. It's one of a kind."

Isaac backed up and laughed for a moment.
"You have no idea what you've got yourself into, pal." He growled.
He holstered his gun and pulled a rifle from his back. Scanning each area around them he lowered his weapon for the time being. "Ok, I accept your offer... But don't expect me to save your ass against the Risen. Got it?" He asked, sliding his rifle back onto his back.
With only two bullets left it was not very useful at least for now.

"Save my ass... Who's the babysitter here again? If it weren't for me, you would be dead within the hour with so few bullets. Your pistols have terrible firepower, being more centered around large clip size and your rifle is almost empty. They would be eating you not long from now."
The russian snickered, tossing the man a box of rifle rounds and a better handgun, but with a clip size of only ten.
"She's a beauty. Not my type though. I like to reload. To me it's as good as sex. That one has firepower enough to blow a hole through two of em'.
The russian spun his revolvers around artfully and holstered them.
"Follow me."

Isaac sntached the gun and slammed it into his holster while he sutffed rounds for his rifle in a side pouch. He didn't like this man but he needed all the help he could get no matter who it came from. "All right." He said, following close behind.