Soren wiped his hand clean on the guard's uniform, then let the body drop with a dull thud.
A soft metallic clink echoed from the other side of the wall.
A few seconds later, Luca hauled himself over the top, breathing hard. He straddled the concrete ledge, looked down at the drop, and swallowed. "Catch me."
Soren stared up at him and didn't move.
Luca cursed under his breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and jumped.
He hit the ground hard, legs buckling. Both hands flew to his crotch as he staggered forward, hunched over. "Son of a—!"
Soren watched him without comment.
Luca straightened up with a grimace and glared. "We were supposed to sneak in. I spent days mapping every patrol route, every blind spot. You just walked up and started killing people."
"We're inside, aren't we?" Soren's voice was flat.
"You killed the guard!"
"If they see us, they die. Problem solved."
Luca opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. His face turned red. He had a whole speech ready about proper infiltration—staying low, avoiding cameras, using shadows, playing cat-and-mouse with the monsters inside. Instead they were walking in broad daylight and Soren was treating every guard like an obstacle that needed erasing.
He bit his tongue and followed.
They circled the outer perimeter until they found a section of wall that had collapsed inward. Soren stepped through first. Luca trailed after him, camera already up and recording.
They entered what used to be a chapel. Long blood smears streaked the floor between the pews. Several benches had been smashed to splinters. Between the wreckage lay skeletons in tattered patient gowns, bones picked clean.
Soren glanced around, then looked at Luca. "You know the layout?"
"Of course I do." Luca puffed up a little. "Follow me. There's a stairwell that goes down."
He took the lead, moving with the confidence of someone who had already done this once before. They crossed the ruined chapel and entered a long corridor. The overhead lights flickered and buzzed. No monsters. No living people. Just empty halls and the distant drip of water somewhere.
Luca relaxed. He stepped around the next corner like he owned the place.
Then he froze, eyes wide, and scrambled backward so fast he almost tripped over his own feet.
Soren caught him by the shoulder and pulled him behind cover. "What?"
Luca pointed, voice low and shaky. "That. That's yours."
Soren stepped out.
A massive, shirtless mutant blocked the hallway. Pale, bloated flesh covered in weeping sores. Huge gut hanging over stained pants. It carried a rusted length of rebar like a club. The thing from Luca's earlier tape—the fat one.
It spotted Soren the second he showed himself.
The mutant roared and charged, each footfall shaking dust from the ceiling.
Soren didn't run. He didn't draw a weapon. He simply raised one hand and swung it sideways in a lazy backhand.
The crack of the impact was loud.
The mutant flew. Its body smashed through the wall on the far side of the corridor and kept going, disappearing into the next room in a shower of plaster and broken studs.
Soren flexed his fingers once and lowered his hand. "Tougher than he looked."
Luca stared at the hole in the wall, mouth hanging open.
From the rubble on the other side came a low, wet groan. The mutant hauled itself upright, swaying. For the first time it actually looked afraid. It let out one half-hearted roar, then turned and smashed through another wall, fleeing deeper into the building.
Luca slowly raised his camera and replayed the footage he'd just captured. He watched the mutant get slapped across the room again and muttered, "Do violent freaks just recognize each other on sight or something? The witch, this guy… Jesus."
They moved on.
Luca led them through a courtyard and into another wing that looked more like a prison than a hospital. Rows of old holding cells lined both sides of the main corridor. Rusting bars. Stained concrete. The air smelled like old piss and fear.
"Stairs to the lower level are at the end of this block," Luca whispered.
A weak, ragged voice drifted out of the darkness ahead.
"Help… please… help me…"
They followed the sound.
A man in tactical gear hung from a meat hook driven through his shoulder, suspended like a side of beef. His legs dangled uselessly. Blood ran down his chest in slow rivulets. When he heard footsteps he forced his eyes open.
"Run," he rasped. "Get out. Call the cops. Don't… don't come down here…"
Soren studied him for a second. The man was already dead. He just hadn't stopped breathing yet.
He drew the deer-antler blade and gave the guy a clean, merciful cut across the throat. The body jerked once, then went still.
Luca looked away.
They found the stairwell. Luca pushed the fire door open.
The stench hit them like a physical blow—copper, rot, shit, and something sweet and cloying underneath it all.
Bodies covered the floor of the sub-level corridor. More hung from the ceiling in pieces. Patients in torn gowns. Armed security in full tactical gear. Lab coats stained dark. Blood had pooled in the low spots and dried into sticky black lakes.
Luca made a choked sound and doubled over, vomiting against the doorframe.
Soren stepped past him without slowing. He'd seen worse at the Black Mountain facility. This was just another slaughterhouse.
Luca wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes watering. "What the hell happened down here? Some kind of riot?"
Soren didn't answer right away.
If the monsters inside had already torn this place apart, then the whole trip was a waste. His real goal wasn't rescue or investigation. He needed to make enough noise that the people running this operation would come looking for him. Loud enough for Bayonetta to finally get a fix on their location.
A raw, furious scream tore through the corridor from somewhere deeper in the dark.
"FUCK! Let me go! Get the fuck away from me!"