A group of old friends ran through the halls of an old abandoned hospital. At one point this place would've housed hundreds of sick patients, but now all it housed was disarrayed, malfunctioning machines. But the group wasn't running from some old computers.
"I sssssmelll youuuuu..."
One of the group, a large Russian man (who at one point had been your standard FPS gamer), checked the magazine on his old, half broken Kalashnikov. "Blyat. I am down to ten rounds...got any ideas, Vault Boy?"
Another man, one in a worn blue jumpsuit that was covered with twisted pieces of metal shook his head and popped the bottle cap off of a Coca-Cola bottle, "besides drinking this sweet Nuka-I mean coke? Nah...we're fucked, man. Unless...'ey Raccoon, got any ideas?"
When the world had gone to shit, certain people had been lucky. The "Raccoon" that was being referred to was a young woman who'd once been a weeaboo who found out that he could easily pass for a protagonist in his favorite isekai anime (a Japanese cartoon where some rando from our world is thrust into a really awful one), and decided to screw with some people. Clearly whatever caused this hell was a big douche.
"No...I can't think of anything," she said with a slight ear twitch, "my sword is broken, you know."
"You're wasting your time, mates," this man was unique in the group. He was their old D&D dungeon master (who'd genuinely expected to turn into some sort of god when everything changed) and had never bothered to cosplay as anything, "you're forgetting that this is a guy who after finding out he'd turned into a girl had gone and jacked off for several hours."
"In my defense, anyone would've done that."
"Fuck you, now can we get back to the fact that we're literally about to be eaten alive and none of us has a plan?!"
The Russian looked over his shoulder at the dungeon master, "aren't you an ex-Marine?"
"Yes. Does that mean I have a plan? No." He glanced towards his spike covered baseball bat. "Damn it, we might as well go down fighting."
They all glanced around the darkness, looking for some sign of movement. They all wished that they had some sort of night vision goggles. No one dared breathe.
"Tango spotted. Dead ahead," the Russian whispered, "it's moving slowly...give me one second." He moved behind the group and started setting something up.
The creature was horrible. Scars lined it's powerful body, and a long, thin tongue hung from the side of it's hideous maw.
"Fuck me...at least we can legally hunt them..." Vault Boy unholstered the 10mm pistol on his hip and slowly raised it, his sugar and drug strengthened arm twitched and shook slightly. The Raccoon slowly raised her sword...it's blade had recently been sheared straight off.
Suddenly a voice behind them cleared it's throat, "LMG MOUNTED AND LOADED!" They all dived into cover as the Russian took a quick shot of vodka and opened fire upon the Beast. 7.62x54mm suddenly ripped through the air creating an almost solid wall of lead. The Beast screamed in pain.
And then it stopped. "Blyat blyat blyat, it jammed!"
A guttural laugh that sounded like something was roaring and coughing at the same time as choking on it's own blood. The Beast hadn't died.
"For fuck's sake, man! Outta the way!" The Dungeon Master roughly shoved the Russian to the side, but he now stood in the Beasts path.
Time seemed to slow as it's rear muscles bunched up and it sprung forward. It's maw slowly opened up revealing rows of hideous teeth. It's uneven claws rose to strike. Then it suddenly was violently thrown against the wall.
"Hey. You're welcome." Literal Robert Downey Jr. stood there in what used to be a Hollywood prop Iron Man suit.
The Dungeon Master stood up and extended his arm, "uh, thanks."
Robert shook his hand, "oh it's-"
"ALL A PART OF MY PLAN, GENTLEMEN!" They hadn't noticed a door to the back, a door that now stood open, revealing a literal gang. "Dutch Van Der Linde, pleased to make your acquaintance...you see, this hospital is my building now."
"Hey, you can't do that!" The Raccoon marched up, brandishing her broken sword. Dutch just took one glance at it and greatly laughed.
"You see gentlemen," he turned and addressed his gang, "this is how you make threats!" Suddenly he turned and grabbed her by the ear and pointed his revolver straight at her head, "you see, girl...don't be a fool and bring a sword to a gunfight."
"For God's sake, Dutch. She's just a kid!" The Raccoon inwardly chuckled at this, and she could tell her friends were also greatly amused by this statement.