WARNING: The chapters of this story have been rearranged, the comments below may not properly reflect the content of this chapter. The order has been changed due to accurate constructive criticism, and these changes will reduce the jarring back and forth between perspectives. Thank you to all of my readers whose feedback allowed me to make these changes, please enjoy the chapter.

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A ceaseless cacophony of deafening gunfire resounded throughout the forest. The hunters poured volley after volley into the advancing mass of squeaking furor, but the rats blindly charged forward, driven by a rabid rage into the endless barrage of lead. The overgrown rodents never stood a chance. Pike had dredged up tactics that the world hadn't seen for over a hundred years. He organized his men as if they were colonial line infantry, standing shoulder to shoulder as they marched. When they spotted the enemy the front rank would drop to their knee, allowing the second rank to safely fire over their heads. This formation combined with the semi-automatic rifles of the modern world created an unending storm of lead. Rather than a battle, it was closer to target practice. They fired without pause until the last bloody mass of flesh and fur ceased its futile struggle. The battle was over less than a minute after it had first begun. It was impossible for anything to stand before the guns of Pike's task force. After the first costly engagement, every encounter had followed this pattern. Four times they had stumbled across roving hordes of rats or goblins, and each time it had gone according to plan. The men assumed their firing positions, and the enemy were annihilated. However, Pike had only grown more disturbed as they pressed on. The deeper they marched into the forest, the more oppressive the aura became. He didn't even bother looking for tracks anymore. He could sense the direction it it was coming from perfectly, but he didn't know how far away it was, only that he was getting closer. None of the other men could feel it. Some were afraid, or jumping at shadows and rustling in the brush, and all were fully alert. After what they had seen, that all was perfectly reasonable. But Pike's gut sense was something else entirely. Before it had been a vague sense of a hateful presence in the woods, but after each battle his sense grew stronger, more precise. As he felt the distance closing between himself and the source of the malevolent aura, the encounters with the beasts became more and more frequent. The men seemed to grow more confident from each successful encounter, however there was a large problem. They had begun this expedition with the intent of hunting down a single pack of man-eating beasts, but it was now clear this forest had been completely overrun. There was no way of knowing just how many of the beasts lurked just out of sight, or even if this was an isolated incident. Pike refused to heed the sense in his gut warning him of the danger ahead. If whatever had twisted this forest into this vile lair was allowed to spread, the town would be overrun. His instincts told him that if he hunted down this sinister presence, he could end it. Somehow he knew that all of this had a source, and that it could be killed. And so onward they marched, deeper into the dense evergreen forest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They soon found another pack on the far side of a clearing, although this one was much smaller than the others they had defeated. Dozens of the rabid beasts were feasting on the corpses of goblins across the wide grassy meadow. This was the first time they had caught the rats unawares, and so Pike took a few moments to watch the beasts. The bloody and scarred rats fought over scraps and sometimes even killed each other over the tiniest morsel with little to no provocation. The pack clearly had a hierarchy, where the largest or the meanest got first pick of the food, and only those who seemed a close match would dare to challenge them. It was a rather normal trait amongst pack hunters, the problem was that rats weren't supposed to be pack hunters. They were scavengers. He would worry about his studies another day, they had to move before they lost their chance. The men quietly crept into the clearing, stealthily getting into their combat formations. As soon as his men finished taking their positions on the edge of the clearing, Pike roared "Fire!" One hundred bullets flew across the clearing in a volley of vengeful wrath. The relative quiet of the dangerous forest was shattered once again. As the violent pain and thunderous noise assailed the rodent horde and alerted them to the presence of the intruding hunters, thousands of rats surged out from behind the tree-line. What they had believed to be a small pack of easily picked off strays was in reality the largest horde they had so far encountered. The front lines began to panic, many shots going wildly off course despite the impossibly dense mass of fur covered flesh which was their target. "Steady boys!" Pike bellowed out over the chaotic noise. "You can't miss, just blow them away!" Pike still stood at the front of his men, firing his hefty rifle with ruthless precision. He targeted the largest beasts in the horde, leaving the surging rabble to the men on the line. But the rodents were too numerous, and they stretched out beyond the ends of the vanguard force. He reached into his coat and pulled out a vibrant orange flare gun. Pike loaded it with a shell from his belt and pointed it into the air above the charging army. He fired its single shot out in a blazing arc of green smoke and fire. He had ordered these unconventional armaments brought up with the reinforcements, and they were distributed amongst his deputies. They were a simple non-verbal signal, something that wouldn't be drowned out in the din of battle. The men on each flank rushed forward, extending the hunter's battle line beyond the reach of the coming horde. As they matched the vanguard's formation of two ranks of battle, they stretched out and around the beasts. Soon the rats were rushing into a fortified bell, and would be attacked from all sides as they struggled to reach their new prey. The broader hail of death cascaded across the the charging rodents, yet the beasts did not slow. They died by the hundred, yet still they pressed on. Soon a pile of corpses bared the way, their courageous dead piling high into a fleshy barricade. Still the rats came. They scrambled over-top the bodies, leaping out, lunging with their last breaths as they were riddled with holes from the hunter's smoking rifles. They came closer and closer. With every hundred deaths they gained another yard. As the horde thinned more shots missed than hit and frantic hunters all shot the same leading rat dozens of times. But the rats could not sustain the charge. Pike saw they would run out of bodies before they reached the lines. But then he heard screams from the left. He dared only glance to the side for a moment, but he saw a red flare erupt from Richard's gun. He turned to look behind him, and saw deputy Brent charging off to the left at the head of the rear guard. Whatever had happened, he would have to trust in his men. He had his own problems to worry about. The disruption on the left had a catastrophic effect on his vanguard. Many had turned to look for the source of the screams, others rushed off to help, and some few had even broken and were fleeing the field of battle. "Hold the line men! Hold the line!" Pike roared, "Fire everything! Bring these bastards down! The rearguard will help the left, we only need kill what lies ahead!" As he tried to rally his men, his rifle clicked empty as it had many times before. With no time to reload, he threw it off, and swung his shotgun around by its strap, bringing it to bear. The rats were only twenty feet away, they had taken full advantage of the confusion. He fired shot after shot into the closing horde, and his men did the same. But then the shotgun also clicked uselessly in his hands. "Boss!" Bill shouted out from his side. Pike turned to see the orange draped hunter holding out a wicked machete, its handle stretched towards the Sheriff while he raised an axe in his right hand. Pike took the machete, hefting the three foot blade in his hand and he drew his sidearm with his left hand. He raised the primitive weapon high into the air, and roared out "Advance men! Slaughter them all!" With steady strides he pushed out to meet the frenzied foe. With each step his pistol left another rat dead, but soon the enemy were upon them. The rodent leading the pack lunged at Pike's throat, the golden retriever sized rat leapt higher than he could have imagined, but Pike was ready. He swung his machete down, catching the beast in the shoulder mid-leap and nearly cleaving it in two. The blade cut through its chest, releasing a great spray of blood and was only stopped when it reached the pelvic bone. The airborne corpse was knocked aside by the blow and fell to the earth with a satisfying thud. Pike stood over it, now drenched in blood but there was no time for pause. The next rodent dashed at Pike's right leg just as the first hit the ground, and it was met with blood soaked steel. Another dying screech and another spray of blood signaled the end of this aberrant life, and the Sheriff stepped over the twitching body to butcher the next rat behind it. With ruthless efficiency Pike carved his path through the battlefield, firing his sidearm and swinging his blade. Bill kept pace beside him, brandishing the woodsman's axe. He had abandoned his guns completely, and focused only on driving his axe into the nearest rat. He was a fearsome sight, despite his vibrant orange attire. The men followed behind. Some simply reloaded their weapons, continuing their barrage into the nearby enemeis. Others relished the fight, and stabbed and slashed with hunting knives or machetes and one crazy bastard had a proper sword. But there were still those who had come with only their guns. If they were pressed into battle they kicked and punched the angry beasts, desperately trying to keep the snapping mouths away from their bodies. The rest fled in absolute terror. The fierce battle dragged on and despite the ferocity of the rats, their casualties from the charge were simply too high for them to overpower the hunters. Pike heedlessly plowed on with bill at his side, tearing apart everything before him. Countless rats fell before his blade, and then all of a sudden there was nothing left to kill. He warily searched around, scanning the battlefield for danger, but as he watched the last rats were cut down. The danger had passed. He turned to look ahead, scanning the trees for anything that might be lurking, anything that might be waiting for the chance to strike. Instead he saw a cave. They had reached another hill in the great forest, and through the trees he could barely make out a dark opening into a mysterious cave. Caves like this were common in the area, usually dug out by bears or other hibernating creatures. But as Pike laid eyes on this one, he knew without a doubt that whatever he was hunting lay inside. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The battle had been far more costly than Pike could have imagined. A full third of their force lay dead or missing. While Sheriff Pike led the vanguard, the left flank had been almost completely annihilated. When faced with the impossibly huge horde ahead of them, he had given the signal for the flanks to advance. If he hadn't done so, they would have been surround and the beasts would have been free to come at their rear. He had made a terrible, and costly mistake. While the left flank was engaged with the enemy ahead, they were attacked from the side. Another horde had been nearby, and rushed to the sound of gunfire. The fresh, untouched horde had been able to reach the men before they were seen as the guns drowned out all noise. The hunters' first sign that something had happened was when the men standing next to them and behind them screamed out in agony as they were torn apart. The men tried to turn about, to unload their weapons on the new foe, but as they did they allowed the rats ahead to charge unhindered. Within moments they were surrounded, attacked on all sides and eaten alive. Richard had just enough time to fire the red flare before he too was torn apart. The rearguard had rushed forwards to help, and those on the left end of the vanguard turned to help however they could. With the reinforcements, the smaller horde was wiped out but at a terrible cost. Only five men were still here. Out of the fifty man troop, that was all that remained. Some had managed to flee into the forest, however they might as well be dead. The rest of their casualties came from the vanguard. Over twenty men had perished on the front line. and another twenty had fled. They simply hadn't been prepared for such a large force. Far too few were armed with proper close combat weapons. They had suffered terrible losses, but there was no time to grieve. Not yet. The men gathered weapons, ammunition, flashlights and rations from the fallen, and dragged the bodies into a pile at the edge of the clearing where they had first spotted the foe. Grouping the bodies gave them the best chance at protecting them from these fiendish scavengers. They hadn't wanted to loot the corpses of their comrades, but Sheriff Pike had made them see reason. Anything that helped them survive was worth the shame. Their equipment could be the difference between life and death for those men still standing. And without them, it would be impossible for the dead to be returned to their families. "They would thank us for it." Pike had told the men. He was left with one hundred and fifty men. He set half on watch, and allowed the others to rest while he tried to decide what to do next. Half of the men wanted to return home, to escape. The other half wanted revenge, and Pike knew how to give it to them. The cave ahead was the home of whatever evil had corrupted this forest. The day was nearly over, but now nearly every man had a flashlight. The night would not hinder them. They could try and make it back to the road and resume the search in the morning or call for help, but how many more men would they lose getting back to this point? And what would happen if they walked into an ambush in the dark? At least here they could aim their flashlights and set sentries to cover every approach. But there was something else too. The half set on revenge, most of those men were those who had seen the fiercest fighting in the last fight. There was something else in their eyes, they thirsted for battle. They enjoyed this. Pike knew that feeling well. With every fight he grew stronger. It was incremental, and small. But however slight it was, he felt a strength and vigor in his body he hadn't felt for decades. After the last battle, where it had come down to close quarters, he knew the cause. With every kill, with every bullet or blow that ended a creature's life, he grew stronger. The closer he was to the foe, the greater the surge of power. He needed more. He was an old man, far past his prime but still clinging fiercely to the remnants of his youthful vigor. This was a chance for him to take back what had been lost to the ravages of time. A chance he would never have thought twice about had it not been for the terrible cost that had been paid. But all those lives, all those good men now piled before him called out for something other than restraint. The greed and hunger for power was replaced by rage. His peaceful, quiet town that he had protected fiercely all these years was now besieged. He would not quietly accept this new reality. He would not peacefully wait for these monsters to destroy all he loved. But he was not a lone young man on a hunt. He was responsible for the lives of all those men with him. Aside from the deserters in the last battle, none of the men were dumb enough to strike out on their own. They knew was lurked in these woods, and they all heard the screams of the men who had fled. But could he truly force them to march further into danger? Because of his own greed and rage? The more Pike thought, the more obvious the answer became. He could not leave after losing this many men. He could not return home empty handed with a pile of bodies in his wake. But neither could he order these men to march to their deaths. Having come to his decision, he rose. "Brave men of Greendale! Hear me!" Pike roared, and waited for the men to gather, "You have done well. We have fought these monsters all day to arrive here. Too many of our neighbors lie dead among us, but their deaths will be avenged. The source of these creatures lies in this cave. I will find it, drag it out here, and destroy it! I will make these bastards pay for what they have done. Those of you who wish to avenge your friends. those of you who wish to protect your families. Join me! Follow me into the den of these beasts, and we shall slaughter all that stands in our way!"