A short story i write a few months back

His name is John Mckenna, former S.A.S and Engineer of the old guard that successfully defended Liverpool
Station from the demonic attacks, his armor covered scratches from head to toe.
Rumours said each scratch was a demonkill and Mckenna was keeping count, but most likely it was just
clawmarks from years of fighting.

His latest mission was the same old, search and rescue of stranded civilians and surviving military personell,
he worked alone - didn’t like to depend on others to get the job done -
and sofar he had gotten the job done every time.
John had been out for days, searching the ruins and going through the list of possible locations,
the demons had done a good job to to his dismay… all he found was death.
The adult dead didn’t get to him so much as seing dead children,
it was the only thing the war hadn’t numbed from him - what still kept him human.

Just as John was about to turn back, he took a chance and searched an old sewernetwork
that dated back to the late 1700’s and got lucky, he had found a group of civilians
and military personell hiding deep in the old sewers, without the nightvision it was pitchblack,
the small and very primitive camp was lit up by a barely notisable fire.
Despite the situtation people looked well and there were no wounded, but then…
the demons weren’t known for leaving wounded - only mutilated bodies or severed limbs.

After he had made sure everyone was ready to travel to Liverpool,
they set of in rapid pace with John quickly moving ahead to make sure the way was clear,
he didn’t want to chat with anyone anyway, they would just be another memory
he’d have to bury once the demons eventually got them aswell.

A day’s quick and careful march and they were close to safety when suddenly
one of the civilians accidentally tore down a wooden plank, it fell down one of the many
sewerconnections which caused alot of unwanted noice, everyone froze -
including John that was now moving with them…
time stopped as they listenend for the slightest indication of incoming demons…
partually frozen with horror - they knew that once one demon came, all of them came.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a Stalker who had been in statis under a bunch of trash jumped up
and slammed it’s jaws around one of the soldiers which resulted in the soldier firing his weapon in panic
just before losing most of his throat to the Stalker. John acted with lightningspeed, pulled his blade and
jammed it far into the head of the demon - but the damage was already done…

The weaponsfire had already awoken and attracted an army of demons that were now heading
direct to their location, time was now against them and John knew that every second mattered
if he were to get any survivors to safety at all.
He raised his voice and spoke loud and clear, instructing everyone to run
as fast as they could to Finsbusy Square, it was close enough now and he knew he could radio for
reinforcements once he was close enough.

They all ran, they ran faster then ever before, they ran until they felt their hearts would explode.
The demons were closing in and John was firing into them as much as he could
while not losing too much speed, and eventho he hadn’t fired a single bullet before this -
he was running out of ammo… a few clips left and then down to the knife and he wouldn’t last long…
neither would the others.

Once in the open out of the tunnels and approaching Finsbury,
John’s body ached as he reached for his radio.
The survivors had taken shelter by a fountain while the soldiers were getting ready for one last stand
and Mckenna then noticed that their position had lured the incoming demons into a bottleneck,
a prime setup for calling in a napalm strike - that would buy them a few minutes or possibly even save them…

John made the call on the radio and just as he threw the beacon for the napalmstrike,
he saw something come around the corner… a demon known to backlash incoming ranged fire
into anyone around them - it was then that he knew… he done fucked up…

R.I.P.

Oh, it vvas sad in the end.