“Commander in the zone! Attention!”

“Ok men, we have received an intel about a migrating aberration, most likely a Gen-3 from one of our drone scouts patrolling a mall at sixty kilometres away,” says the commander, with a stern voice.

The projector shows a dark corridor over a low angle, in night vision mode. The video shifts forward for a few seconds until suddenly, a high-pitched screeching sound is heard following nothing but static.

“This is not the first time an attack on a drone was recorded, but usually the zombies would just leave them alone,” the commander continues. He sounds pissed about losing such a valuable equipment.

Graphs containing multiple sound frequencies is displayed, comparing several voice structures from previous encounters. “The screeching sound does not match any other creatures in our database, and thus, we might be facing a new Gen-3. We have to be wary about other shadowprowlers in the vicinity though, they are commonly attracted to screeching noises.

“I’m sure everyone knows this, but most of the Gen-3 are territorial, and are usually left alone to avoid the risk of engaging them. However, an aberration would behave unpredictably, often moving from one location to another and poses a much bigger risk if left unchecked.”

The screen shifts to weapons, showing an M16 with a tactical flashlight mount and red laser sight. “The assault team will be using our standard weapon and provided with two types of magazine. The hollow-point rounds are to be used for maximum tissue damage. You shall change to the full metal jacket bullets if It had managed to adapt armour platings.”

The screen flickers again, this time with bigger guns - a large calibre sniper rifle. The commander smirks and says, “The assault team will be backed up by the sniper team. One shot from this baby and It would definitely regret stepping Its dirty feet into our territory.”

The meeting proceeds with various plans and building layouts: “The assault teams will be broken into six squads of four people since this will be an indoor skirmish. We’ll have a sniper on four different locations and the primary task of the assault team is to lure It towards the sniping point.”

“So we’re just bait?” Everyone’s focus shifts to the crackled voice - presumably from the scrawny teenager.

“Boy, would you rather suck on your momma’s tits and let the real men handle this?” A voice is heard from the back, followed by a loud laughter from the group.

#####

Five black vans drive through the highway in a steady fashion and came to a halt in front of a huge, gaping hole in the glass gate of the mall. The light could not penetrate all the way through inside the building, even though the operation is being done during high noon - giving them less visual that they would have liked. The inside is pitch-black, and no movement can be seen from the outside - but this is no assurance.

Six men come out from the back of the van and move into the position of six by four. They’re equipped with a customized tactical vest that protects even the arms. Layers of dark-coloured metal alloys can be seen to further improve the integrity of the vest. The faces of the brave men can hardly be seen. They are covered with different coloured full helmets, much like that of motorbikers but night goggles are attached instead of the visor. Each of these men is armed to the teeth. Various shapes of grenades and at least six magazines are seen protruding from the pockets.

“Snipers in position, no hordes in sight. The operation is a go.”

All six teams rushed into the mall, covering each others’ blind spots. Their eyes roam wildly while inside, the threat could approach from all direction, and a moment of ignorance could mean the end of their life.

During an indoor skirmish, at least one person on each team would be designated as the recon. His job is to determine where the threat is coming from, and most of the time he would have to look upwards while walking.

Rogue Gen-2 zombies pose minimal threat to trained men. Most of the casualties are from the shadowprowlers, a form of Gen-2.5 that has mutated and obtained the trait to attach themselves to the walls, similar to that of a lizard. They are known to lay in ambush and only attack in the dark.

The first squad proceeds to the centre of the mall. The mall has a large open space, with a huge gap in the middle, much like a colosseum. The recon from the first squad takes a peek at the empty space in the middle of the mall. The walls are made out of glass, perhaps to promote the view of the galleries. They’re currently on the ground floor, but the space leads to two floors below them, the lower ground, and the basement with a huge parking. Above them, two more floors come into the recon’s sight. The floors are all connected to a non-functional escalator on the west and east of the mall.

With the help of the night vision goggles, the recon notices a few shadowprowlers on the top floor, trying to hide from plain sight. The recon speculates that the creatures probably heard them coming into the mall. They report to the squad leader, and the leader gives his orders to everyone using radio comms. “Following the plan, we shall sweep the higher floor first and remove all other threats before we engage It.”

The team breaks into two and moves in synchronization. Three squads to the left, and the others to the right, each reaching the west and east escalator respectively. Two squads proceed to the middle of the escalator while the others provide cover. This significantly extends the duration of the skirmish but they have no choice but to be careful, as you only live once.

After reaching the first floor, three of the squads are ordered to stand guard. Afterall, getting flanked is a great way to die. The other squads move together towards the west escalator, when suddenly-

“Contact. Below the escalator!” One of the recons guarding the first floor shouts, his voice echoing throughout the empty halls of the mall.

The sudden shout startles the prowler, as it leaps sideways from the bottom of the escalator towards the squads who are trying to make their way upwards. Unfortunately for it, one of the squad members on the escalator is known for his trigger-happy personality. A burst fire of five rounds is made, and one of the shot lands right between the prowler’s eyes, blowing its brain away.

The loud gunshot causes the other prowlers to go into a frenzied rage, six of the prowlers rushes from the west side of the mall. They move towards the centre of the mall, scurrying upside down on the ceiling with dexterity as though it was walking upright. Another three is seen trying to circle its way through to the east escalator.

The four-men-squad quickly position on the south of the first floor opens fire at the three prowlers. The shots land on the glass wall, breaking it into pieces.

“Fire only controlled burst. You only need to land one shot at its head.” Everyone followed the order of the squad leader and braved the threat.

The three prowlers leap through the broken wall, aiming towards the shooters at the south. However, the creatures notice there were two other squads on the floor- too late. A flanking fire, short bursts of three bullets each. Everything is happening so quickly, so easily for there is no way to change direction during a jump in mid-air. Two of the prowlers are limp during the flight, falling to the bottom floor. One of it manages to survive with a few scratches, and crash-lands on the glass wall, shattering it to pieces. Bloodied, it tries to continue its assault, and skitters sideways, attempting to dodge the approaching rain of bullets.

As the first-floor squad’s attention is focused on the surviving member of the prowler, the five who are attached at the ceiling begin to plunge towards the twelve men stuck at the elevator. The squad leader shouts to grab the other member’s attention. “East escalator, focus fire!”

The lone prowler receives less resistance than it had expected as it encroaches the southern group, too close for comfort. However, these men are no stranger to the battlefield. They have been exterminating pests like these for over five years, and currently, they are wielding the best equipment for such a situation. Two of the men get on their knees, their knee pads prevent them from touching the floor. Both of them flicker the firing selector with their thumbs, from burst fire to full-auto. Supported by their knees and lower centre of gravity, they brace for the recoil impact and squeezes the trigger. Each of them fires fifteen bullets in less than a second, the prowler’s face disintegrates due to the number of holes which outnumbers the flesh.

They immediately shift their attention to the east escalator. Only one of the prowlers are dead and on a free fall. Three of them are on the escalator, proceeding swiftly to attack. The escalator is cramped. There is no escaping- not for the prowlers. Shooting in a straight line is surprisingly easier to achieve in such a tight location. No matter how fast the creature is, if they can’t dodge, they’re no better than a stationary target. Two of the prowlers are reduced to rubbles immediately, they have no chance if they can't utilize their best trait; agility and dexterity. The other prowler tries to hide below the escalator, but the squad from the west shoots the creature down, killing it.

“Careful - there’s one more!” The recon tries to warn the group while providing cover fire, but the prowler swoops down and manages to grab one of the squad members. The others try to grab him, but the prowler’s strength is no match from theirs. It pulls the man from their grasp as both the creature and he fall together to the bottom of the mall.

Everyone waits for the squad leader’s orders. “Squad five and six remain on the first floor and provide cover. The others, with me to the bottom. Proceed cautiously.”

The mall is silent, except for the orderly footsteps of the squads. Their journey to the bottom of the mall is uneventful. It seems that no other shadowprowlers are in the proximity. “Squad 3, check your fallen member, the others keep your eye out for any movement,” orders the leader.

“Sir, it seems that the prowler broke his fall. He has a few broken ribs and bruises but he’ll live,” one of the men reassures their leader.

The squad leader presses his walkie-talkie and said, “Requesting medevac for a single person, over.” Then, he gives a new order to the squads. “Squad 5 and 6, finish sweeping the top floor. Squad 1 and 2, sweep the floor above us. The others will stay here until medevac comes.”

“Sir, are we aborting the mission?” one of the men asks.

“The mission will continue as soon as we get him out of here,” answers the squad leader.

“Roger!” Everyone replies in unison, with a renewed conviction.

#####

The medevac safely transports the injured squad member, and the squads regroup at the bottom of the mall.

The leader looks at his wristwatch, both of the hands pointing at the number three. “We shall continue the mission. The snipers have been repositioned to provide better cover. We lost the signal when the drone was patrolling the basement parking so we suspect It’s still there. Everyone, get into position!” he instructs.

The first squad opens the door to the parking lot, and the stench of petrol fills the air. Some of the cars are wrecked on their sides, and there are even those which are upside down. “No sight of the crea- wait, I think I hear something,” the recon pauses, listening.

“I think it’s coming from downstairs,” the recon reaffirms. “Your orders, Sir?”

As the recon had requested, waves of orders flood from the leader. “Squad 2, proceed stealthily and survey the source of the sound. Do not engage unless you’re spotted. Squad 3 and 4, remain on the hallway, while the others prepare to ambush it in this parking lot.”

Those on the second squad gulp as they slowly approach the slope to the second basement. Avoiding any sudden movement, the recon squad spot something moving, as if It is humping a lorry with Its head. It looks like an overgrown python, bloated with Its prey. The head is that of an earthworm and slender legs, like that of a lizard’s. Some sort of tentacles protruding out of Its head, presumably Its tongue slithering its way into the oil tank.

“Sir, It hasn’t noticed me yet,” the recon informs. “Definitely, a Gen-3. It does not have a humanoid form, more like that of a large lizard. The floor is flooded with petrol, I think It’s eating them.”

“Good job. Retreat here quickly. We can’t risk having a shootout in there as the spark might cause the fume to ignite and take us together with It.” The squad leader ponders for a moment, coming up with a decision. “Squad 4, bring a C4. We’re gonna show It the best barbecue with explosions.”

The C4 is silently set up on the second basement while all the squads are evacuated from the parking lot. The squad leader presses the detonation button, and a loud explosion is heard. It makes a deafening cry, but the noise didn't stop, even after everything is burning. Some of the floor in the parking lot collapse and a loud, slimy, gushing sound is heard, heading to the ramp that connects the floor together.

A ball of fire is seen, red and black, burnt flesh, and yet, It is still slimy. It wails in anger and pain, seeking for vengeance. It pushes itself towards the aggressors, propelled by the hind legs and the long tails as they are supported by the slithering body. The movement is clumsy, as It gets closer. And the source of that clumsiness finally displays itself. Sticking out like a sore thumb, a skeletal arm, dangling lifelessly comes into view. The flame managed to obliterate the flesh on its left arm, as It struggles to support itself.

“Concentrate fire on Its head! Give it everything you’ve got!” The leader orders the men.

Twenty four rifles are commanded to fire at charging behemoth. However, It doesn’t stop, nor does It slows down. Each bullet shot is just adding fuel to the raging fire. They are using hollow points that are designed not to penetrate, but to expand on impact and destroy the tissues. The intense flames are actually cauterizing the wounds, stopping the bleeding and forces carbonization on Its skin, making it thicker and harder.

“The flames are supposed to slow It down,. WHY IS IT GOING FASTER?!” Yells one of the men who start to panic.

“Aim for the legs! Slow it down!” Commands the leader.

Suddenly, Its head expands. It regurgitates the fluid that It has been feeding on all these time: Petrol. The plan backfires. Flames catch on, and instead of liquid, it was as if a dragon is breathing fire onto mere mortals.

Humans are not made to resist high temperature, and the stream of fire burns right through the formation. Those who are positioned in front are shouting, begging and crying for help. There is no worse way to die other than being burned to death as it can be considered to be a form of torture.

“Retreat! Back to the sniping point!” The leader yells an order. Good leaders might come out with a victory, but great leaders come out with the most of his team. Any hesitation can easily turn the tables around.

They retreat steadily while shooting, never turning their back on It. Some of them could not make it as the crimson flames peel away their skins, burning them into a crisp. It does not stop there and rushes through the hallways, crushing those who are too slow to escape.

The hallway is clear of any human, and with that, a loud bang is quickly followed. A large portion of Its body disappears, taking the left hind leg with it. Another wail, and this time, it is accompanied by a spray of black liquid from Its mouth. The substance immediately catches fire and burns the blood vessels on the gaping wound, preventing the blood from spilling out.

It still tries to attack, becoming more violent and restless each minute. Just as soon as It comes out of the hallway, It is suddenly bombarded by three shots from multiple directions, all centred on the forehead. The earth-shattering impact is enough to know that nothing can get back up from that. It is now limp, lying motionless on the ground. The flames that were intensely burning has now died out from the shockwave of the impact, just like the life of It.