Bottomfeeders

Bottomfeeders

          The thunderous roar of plane engines and machine gun fire have been replaced by eerie silence in an empty town. Flight Officer Joseph Collins stands at the entrance of a museum about American history in the town of Agenny.
          "All that time learning French, and all these signs are in English," He mutters to himself. "Maybe I can find a compass or something." Joseph walks through the open doors.
          Broken speakers play the Battle Hymn of the Republic. It skips and distorts, making hellish noises. It plays static for a few moments, then repeats the line, "His truth is marching on." Joseph gulps down his fear and ventures further into the labyrinth of ruined exhibits.
          Eventually, the loop quiets as he walks through room after room depicting American history. Joseph briefly inspects each room, absorbing the surroundings. The Revolutionary War and their symphony of steam and brass. Soldiers wearing steam powered exoskeletons operating brass tubes that spew out steam to melt their opponents. Many of the mannequins have been knocked from their stands and have scratch and bite marks on their faces and necks. One has been pulled apart, leaving just a gouged torso.
          What the hell happened here? Joseph thinks to himself. Town's completely devoid of life and the only building with lights on is a damn mess.
          As he looks over the debris, Joseph hears sniffling in the other room. He freezes for a moment and points his gun toward the door. Creeping towards the sound, he hears over the soft cries, mechanical whirring, and clicks. Despite the dim light, Joseph notices a collapsed roof, and a trapped person beneath the rubble.
          Joseph flicks on his flashlight and aims it at the person. They are stuck under wooden beams and furniture from the room above. Their legs are entirely obscured, leaving only their torso exposed. A fold of skin covers its eyes as tears stream down its face. A crown of metal sits over its exposed brain. Metal pins poke and prod parts of the brain, but it looks like the crash from above has broken many and just one pin forces the creature to slam its head into a piece of rubble.
          Joseph watches the creature. It seems like it doesn't notice his presence. He tiptoes through the room, making sure to not step on the rubble that litters the floor. The soft cries and moans fill Joseph with pity. He looks back at the thing. The human being it used to be. He aims his gun and prepares to put the man out of his misery.
          A deafening sound pierces the room as the hammer falls, exploding the bullet within. It hits him with enough force to shatter the metal crown and the contents within the man's skull. The smoke fades and quiet fills the room. As Joseph goes to holster his weapon, he hears yells from all over the building in a cacophony of screams. Footsteps rush towards Joseph's location as he bolts out of the room.
          The next room he runs into depicts the era of electricity. Massive Tesla coils and other electric weaponry that were used during the Civil War. Jumping over Union and Confederate soldiers alike, he ducks and weaves through the rubble. A vibrant flash of lightning stops him in his tracks, rushing footsteps sound overhead as more of those creatures come to the aid of their brethren.
          Two massive Tesla coils sit in Joseph's way, sparking with electricity. They block the exit to this room, zapping anything that gets between them. Another creature stands in the doorway. Joseph sees the full distortion the body of the thing has. Its arms and legs are painfully thin. Hanging low is its gestating distended stomach that looks like its moments from bursting. Burned into its chest like livestock is the symbol of the Nazi party.
          It leaps toward Joseph with a shriek and gets incinerated the moment it passes between the coils. Ash falls to the ground in front of Joseph, who dashes past the now expunged coils. "That should slow them down," he whispers to himself as he runs through a new exhibit.
          He rushed into the next room, which seemed to be the largest room of the museum, a sprawling diorama depicting World War One. Towering two legged walkers striding across the battlefield. Iron Stilts, as the soldiers called them, were once war machines of the industrial age.
          Joseph runs underneath one as the horde closes in. He grasps the crucifix that hangs around his neck and prays. "Heavenly Father, as the darkness gathers around me and the shadows of fear loom closer, I turn to you, the light in chaos, the refuge in the storm. Lord, grant me the strength to endure."
          He aims his gun at one doorway. Two more of the beasts enter the room, laughing as their skinny legs carry them at ferocious speed toward Joseph. He fires, hitting one in the chest, sending it crashing to the ground. The other, unfazed by its companions' death, rushes him before he can get another shot off.
          It slams into Joseph, knocking the pair to the ground. With unnatural strength, it pushes its head against Joseph's hand, biting for his throat. It laughs at his struggle while tears and blood mix at the end of its chin, falling into Joseph's gaping mouth. The copper salty taste is revolting, but Joseph powers through, reaching for the knife in his boot with his now gun less hand.
          Three more enter the room and see the struggle rapidly shift to Joseph's favor as his knife plunges straight into the jugular. It lets gurgling final breath before collapsing. Joseph rises from the ground, fumbling for his gun as the growing horde surrounds him from all sides.