PREVIEW

... al Viktor "Bloodfang" Kruger moved forward, his muscles tensed, his crimson beret casting a shadow over his cold, calculating eyes. His grip tightened around his knife, still slick with undead ichor.

Behind him, Sergeant Darius "Hellhound" Rook advanced cautiously, his rifle raised. "Sir, this place feels wrong," he muttered, scanning the dimly lit corridor.

Kruger didn't respond. He knew wrong. This was worse than that. This was something unnatural.

The bunker stretched ...

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