Meltdown

Jakub and Trevor had managed to reach two of the wolves, but the swarm of walking dead was blocking their way to the remaining red beasts.
There were simply too many of them.
"We need... another plan.." He said, feeling the warm blood from the wound on his side to trickle down his leg. A zombie armed with a straight sword raised his weapon above his head, wanting to use the strength of both of his arms to cleave the Inquisitor's head open. Not wanting to waste time on a block, Jakub attacked, his blade cutting through both of the rotten wrists, and slicing open the skull right above the creature's eyes.
The cavalry saber danced, putting down many a foe, as the Inquisitor started retreating slowly, but steadily, leaving a trail of bodies after him.
An undead wielding a long metal pole swung at the European man. The Inquisitor had to dodge under the swinging staff, but left himself open for an attack from the side, which an undead with a large kitchen knife delivered, deeply wounding the outside of his thigh.
Jakub spun, still low to the ground, and used a wide horizontal slash to dismember both foes of their legs, cutting them off right at the knee caps.
They fell.

One by one, Trevor jammed his blade into the crippled undead. This was becoming problematic. The Inquisitor was obviously hurt, but those two cowards had still not begun to be much use. He had to improvise. He slowly began to inch his way backwards, swinging his blade back & forth efficiently, but with little finesse. He cleaved & he hacked, the undead fell, yet even as their brethren fell, more still rushed to take their place. Well, as much as they could rush without snapping like twigs. The Viking roared a battle cry as only the Norse could (Admittedly a bit meeker than a fully aged warrior, but impressive nonetheless) as he continued his steady retreat. Then quickly he called out to the scientist, "Give me sanctuary for a moment!" The scientist was rather confused for a second, but it dawned on him what the meaning was. He raised the clockwork rifle, firing off several rounds. The gears cycled, the rounds flew, slowly igniting into small, flaming shards. When did he grab the Dragon's Ire? The Viking could have sworn he was using on of the old prototype rifles modeled after those worthless American weapons. It didn't matter in any case. The opportunity gave the Viking ample time to unroll the bag & draw one of the speed shooters. A longer weapon, but by no means the size of those ridiculous Speed Shooters used by the Egyptians, it was still comfortable enough to use with relative ease. He quickly grabbed one of the ammo belts & fed it into the weapon. He raised the gun & held down the trigger. The gas released, the first bullet was propelled, & the Viking unleashed Hell.

As Tim covered Trevor while he found and loaded a gun for himself, he fired indescriminately at anything that moved, his flashlight revealing the graphic deaths of each's death. At one point his sights fell on the Inquisitor, fighting on the ground the zombies that swarmed him. He was a fantastic fighter at close range, but there were just too many. Tim's sights moved to an undead flailing his saber about like a madman next to the young swordsman and he fired, hitting the motley flesh with a satisfyingly disgusting sound following the guns report. As Trevor began firing his weapon into the crowd to Tim's right and Tim saw Taylor reloading for the next wave on the left, he shouldered his rifle and drew his pistol, running to where Jakub had fallen. Corpses of former corpses were strewn about near him, and Tim added some more with fairly accurate pistol fire. Tim's flashlight was strapped to his now shouldered rifle, so he relied on his night vision to find the fallen but fighting Inquisitor. Jakub's sword lunged at his feet, grazing his right ankle but not painful enough to hinder his movement much. Jakub quickly realized who he was and what he was here to do, and despite initial protests, he let Tim bring him onto his feet and put his arm around Tim's shoulder, holding his sword in his free hand, slicing away at oncoming undead. They began again towards Trevor and Taylor, who began covering their retreat, dropping bodies all around them. Trevor tossed Taylor a grenade without ceasing his barrage, and Tim quickened his and Jakub's pace.

"The floor. The fucking floor. Blow it up. It's thin. Better take our chances a below than here. There's just... too fucking many of them." Murmured Jakub, his vision blackening from the loss of blood. He pushed himself off of Tim's support, certainly grateful for his comrade's help, but also angry at himself for requiring it.
It was difficult to stand upright.
A weapon appeared in front of the wounded Inquisitor. His saber lunged forward, cutting off the rotten hand that was holding the tool. A slight shine of teeth to the left. Upper half of them disappeared after the Damascean steel did its job.
The undead that just lost his arm kept attacking, trying to rake the Inquisitor's face with bony fingers and nails. The Inquisitor's saber moved in front of him, and the enemy was left armless.
"The guard's room.. The emergency hatch.... think, scientist, think, for fucking sake!" yelled Jakub, as he disemboweled an undead that was approaching Tim's unprotected side with a quick, short slash. The walking corpse looked down on his bloody guts falling out of his stomach, and lost his head right after to another swift cut of the curved sword.
The scientist's fire support was deadly. The Inquisitor, even wounded, finished the equation by protecting Tim's flanks.
Still, the undead kept walking.

Taylor surveyed around him, feeling the cold metal of the grenade. The battle was not in our favor, and Taylor was feeling the effects of it. Throwing the grenade, he realized he had not pulled the pin, cursing to himself, he praised the gods that no one realized it with him. His eyes opened suddenly, an idea, no, a hope, dawned on him.
"Cover me!" He shouted, it echoed over the crowds and caught the ears of his friends.
In swift motions, Taylor took off his poncho, followed by his construction workers belt and even his shirt and shoes. revealing a large number of tattoo's on his chest and abdomen. Large pentagrams on each side of his chest, with snaking patterns crossing his stomach and ribs. Crossing his legs, he put his hands together and moved them in a star shape pattern, chanting under his breath. Opening his eyes, Taylor places his hands on the ground. Golden tendrils flowed from under neath his hands, coursing it's way to each of the undead. The unnatural light drew it's way up them like golden veins. Their eyes shone as their skin burned off. Screams filled the halls as they monsters clawed at themselves, the golden light spreading larger. Suddenly, the undead horde stopped moaning and screaming. Standing up straight, their hands at their hips. They had begun to dissolve in to a bright mist, like the steam of boiled water. Taylor didn't raise his hands off the floor, the tendrils whipping like snakes under his palms, until the mist had completely vanished. Reaching for his shoes and shirt, he felt the eyes of his partners on him. Putting on his shirt, Taylor dawned a subtle smile before talking.
"Am I still a tree fucker, Viking?"

Trevor's smile was so big it threatened to consume the rest of his face. "Now THAT was impressive." A quick glance at his monstrous weapon let him know the ammo was gone, so he dropped it. "But we still have the problem of being trapped in the Halls of the Fucking Messiah (He spat the name, as if it pained him to say it) with little to no plan, &direction to match. I'm all for action, but as the Norse say, "If you're going to raze your enemies homes, it helps to remember where they live." He once again produced a cloth & retrieved his axe, wiping it down. "So, any idea what horrors we shall approach next?" He swung the axe a few times, then slid it back into it's rig. "I hear the atrium is rather nice this time of Ragnarok."

"I'd say we just keep moving forward." Stated the Inquisitor, walking up to the door directly in front of them and disappearing behind it. They followed, and the group found themselves in a black corridor all made of marble, around two hundred feet long, very tall and wide. A series of doors could be seen on each side.
The lights flickered, then went out.
The Inquisitor sighed, and reached into his medical bag, now carried by Tim. He took two of the red capsules, and proceeded to break them and use the powder on his wounds.
"The end of this corridor has a tram station, that leads to the atrium. What I am afraid of, however, is that the tram won't fucking work, because of the lack of power."
The lights turned back on.
The Inquisitor looked behind them, at the door they just went through. The door was no more, as thick, ink black mist covered it. The mist was moving towards the group, and it was not slow.
"This is not good... MOVE." - he said, rather loudly, turning away from the abomination.
The door at the very end of the corridor, their goal, the entrance to the tram station was blocked by the same black mist.
"Find an open door. And make it quick." stated the Inquisitor, and proceeded to rush through the corridor, checking the doors one by one.
The mist near them produced a swarm of tentacles, each ending in a razor sharp, toothed hook. In the middle of the circle of tentacles, the mist revealed a giant, round mouth nearly the size of the corridor, with needle like teeth that covered the inside.
It started moving faster towards them, with the long appendages constantly slashing the air in front of the creature.

The first door was locked. The second was locked. By the third the Viking was getting frustrated. He approached the fourth, & checked it. Locked. He bellowed a roar of rage & kicked it off it's hinges. "Hey, I found an open door." He then spun around, drawing his gun, & began firing on the mist. The bullets did nothing, but the fire seemed to phase it slightly. "Get inside, NOW!" Again he fired. The gun cycled, round after round flying towards the Darkmist.It did little good but to slow the beast, but that would have to be enough.

Jakub took a quick peek inside, and let Tim and Taylor run in. "This corridor should lead us to some kind of stairs. Or an elevator." He told them, before sending them on their way.
The Inquisitor felt something move right behind him, he turned, drawing out his saber, and slashed horizontally, cutting off one of the tentacles right below it's deadly hook. He stayed with Trevor, making sure that the rest of the group manages to reach the opened corridor safely. Another tentacle sprung to life, shooting towards the Catholic's face. He ducked under the deadly thrust, only to be greeted with an immediate follow up, which he successfully slashed off with a quick swing of his saber.
He took couple of steps backward, towards the young viking currently shooting at the creature. "Go. Now." Jakub said, dismembering two further tentacles with lighting quick, pinpoint accurate slashes of his saber. When the viking disappeared in the corridor, one of the hooks embodied itself in the young Inquisitor's arm. He grunted, and cut the tentacle off before the Darkmist could pull him in towards it's deadly mouth. Seeing that now he was about to be attacked from two sides at once, he did a quick shoulder roll towards the open door, successfully evading the deadly barrage of dark arms.
The Inquisitor got up and started running.
They found themselves in another corridor, almost identical to the one they left. Except one detail. The lights were on.
The hooks followed them.
Jakub grabbed the wound on his left arm with his other hand, still gripping his weapon. He knew that if he was to pull the hook out of the wound, he would surely end up bleeding to death. It had to wait.
He just kept running.

Tim ran two feet behind Taylor, who had almost reached the next hallway. He heard a cry of pain, it sounded like the Inquisitor, and then heavy footfalls. Trevor emerged behind them from the darkness, reloading his gun with violent grace. As they looked around and thought about what to do next, looked to the left and saw another door that led to the tram. More heavy footfall, these one's paced awkwardly apart as Jakub emerged, looking nondescriptly at a sharp, natrual hook emerging from his upper arm. Tim looked at him questioningly and he said "No, can't do anything about it now. Let's get to the tram."
"Uh, yeah, while we're doing that, could anyone inform the ignorant scientist as to what that was?" was Tim's response as they began moving to the door and waited for another...thing...to foul up their plans.