• The stairs creaked with every step they sustained. They were made of metal, but their bolts and screws were so rusted and loose, they creaked just like wood. Five flashlights tried in vain to rid the basement of its unnerving darkness, and five sets of eyes did their damnedest to see more through the veil of black.
    "This has got to be a joke," Iseigha muttered, tapping his flashlight against his hand and shining it out at the area again.
    "Nope," Jeremy responded as he stepped foot on the cement floor and squinted in attempt to see better, "They really did send us to a black hole."
    "It's not that bad," Miria stated, coming to a stop at the leader's left side.
    "If you're a cat, sure," Elijah replied.
    The chatter died down and they were left standing there, looking around. It hadn't been that long since the world went to s**t...Or, maybe it had. And they just hadn't noticed it. Time flies when you work like a dog.
    "Alright, uh...Mir, you and me are gonna take the front. Guys, stay close behind, okay? Everybody keep their eyes peeled. There's no telling what kind of s**t this place has in store for us," Jeremy annouced, starting to walk and glancing over his shoulder to see if they understood.
    They did, and they followed. The group moved tentatively, trying not to think of what could be, and probably already was, waiting in the shadows for them. Miria clutched her Desert Eagle confidently with her right hand, holding her flashlight along with it with her left as though it were a part of the weapon itself.
    Jeremy kept one hand loosely resting against his rifle and the other waving his flaslight about. Iseigha weilded his own light like it was a sword, and Gabriel and Elijah both smacked him outside the head with theirs.
    The nonsense ceased. It was now business, as usual, and they all acted as such. Of course, the business would've been made a hell of a lot easier if they had been told a more specific location for the generators than 'the basement'.
    The large group seemed to take a simultaneous jump when the sound of metal clanking against the cold, cement flooring was heard as clear as day. Soon, the combined power of their flashlights was able to show them that they were most definitely not alone.
    A figure with skin as pale as the moon itself brought its hands up to shield its eyes, staggering, it seemed, by a copper barrel that had been knocked over. Elijah took a step forward and tilted his head to the side slightly, trying to get a better look. He glanced sideways at Jeremy.
    "s**t. That a friendly?" he asked in a whisper.
    "...Fanger. Toast him," he answered, after a brief moment of observation.
    Obediently, Elijah backed them up with a wave of his hand and then reached that hand into a pouch on his vest. He pulled out a capped glass bottle filled half way with gasoline while the vampire attempted to get a grip on its surroundings. A smirk crossed his slender lips when he uncapped it, stuffed in a rag and lit the rag with a simple butane lighter.
    "This city is ours!" he roared, launching the molotov cocktail with clear skill.
    It shattered at his target's feet and the fire rage up in a burst, engulfing the vampire completely even as it screeched and shrieked unnaturually in pain. It collapsed to a flaming heap on the ground, lifeless even as the flames licked it all around.
    "...Goddamn," Jeremy started quietly, smiling smugly and placing a hand on Elijah's shoulder, "Nice ******** work."
    "I'll say...," Gabriel seconded.
    They stared at the morbid little bonfire for a moment or two before getting back to business and carrying on about their way. Upstairs, Cora was forced to compress a scream of absolute pleasure against Hope's bare shoulder. He let out a sharp breath and hung his head, staring down at her with a smile. He kissed her passionately, swirling his tongue to dance with hers.
    "Jesus ******** Christ," she gasped, resting her head back and letting her eyes shut, trying to catch her breath.
    "Now...That ain't my name," he breathed, playful, keeping himself pushed up on his palms.
    She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand to get rid of sweat and looked up at him, chuckling, "Hope ******** Constance."
    She rose up a little, draping her arms around him and digging her nails into the skin of his back while she matched her hips to his. A moan of pleasure passed her lips, while a grin took over his, at the feeling of being so far inside her and her breasts pressed so firmly against his chest.
    He kissed and nipped at her collarbone, eventually meeting her mouth again. He stole breath from her, and gave some back.
    "I love you," she managed, at last laying flat on her back.
    He smiled down at her, pecking her lips before reciprocating, "I love you, too."
    They were content just to lay there with one another, their naked bodies intertwined so perfectly it was like they were only one. But Jeremy had his own idea, bursting in on both radios set in a chair by the desk and tearing the loving scene to shreads.
    "I need my second gunner, Goddamnit! We're in the s**t!" his voice crackled.
    Cora gave a roll of her eyes and attempted to fix her sex hair, Hope reaching over her for his radio. After a few seconds of fumbling, he finally grabbed hold of it and sat back with a sigh, pressing his thumb down on the talk trigger.
    "Copy. Location?" he requested.
    He placed a kiss to her forehead and got up from the desk to get dressed. She propped her elbow up and rested her head in her hand, watching him with a day-dreamy air. They had been together for awhile now...The team was none the wiser.
    "Location, Captain?" he repeated more vehemently into the radio, buttoning his pants while awaiting a response.
    When he didn't get one, his calm composure did a complete one-eighty. He hooked his radio on the holder his utility belt had for it and tossed Cora her clothes. He threw on his jacket, picked up his duffel bag of gear and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He urged her to hurry. This was serious.
    "A half hour without us and they've already lost it," she muttered as she obliged in his request for speediness.
    She was quickly in uniform, her medic bag clutched with her right hand and a flashlight with her left. Her rifle, too, rested against her chest on its strap. They broke into sprints toward the basement. Again, the stairs creaked, and, again, remarks were made about the lack of light. They had an entire floor to cover and made no change in pace.
    "Jeremy!" Hope yelled, running through darkness with Cora not far behind, "Gabe! Elijah! Mir! Iseigha! Where are the ******** are you!"
    "Can anybody hear me?" Cora shouted into her radio, "Anybody!"
    She growled inwardly and hooked it on its holster, forced to a stop when she bumped into her companion, who had taken it upon himself to have a little break. People who smoked as much as he did should be forbidden to run. She patted his back lightly and stepped around him, shining her light in different directions.
    She had no clue where they were, or where they were going, and it worried her. Panic made the hairs on the back of her neck raise and she yelped when she knocked shoulders with Hope, her flashlight falling to the ground and rolling a fair ways. She was about to chatise him and tell him to watch out, but was silenced when their radios sounded off. It was Jeremy. His was voice very faint, almost completely muted by static, and there was a rasp in it, a trait that he only picked up when he was tired. But the duo were able to hear his words clearly, and they alone were enough to get them moving at unheard of speeds...
    Those words?
    "Code Red."