[Salone]

Automatic fire rang out through the sewers. Lev's finger was pulled tight against the trigger of his PPsh-41, the barrel actually beginning to glow from its own heat. Dybbuk on the front line were cut down, limbs and heads suddenly shaking or snapping back as lead tore through soft and rotting flesh. Still, it didn't seem to be enough.

Lev's ears were bleeding from the constant gunfire. The skin on his left arm began to burn where his gun rested, the heat shield around the barrel beginning to fail. And with sudden silence, the gunfire stopped.

He looked almost confused as the bolt on his gun caught the end of the drum. Smoke poured from the open chamber. It took Lev precious seconds to realize that he was empty. As fast as he could, he attempted to awkwardly reload his gun. He kneeled, steadying the gun on the ground as he pushed another drum in to it. Concentrated wholly on getting back in to the fight, Lev barely noticed Dante utter the name 'Gabriel'. Unfortunately, he also failed to evade Gabriel's teeth sinking in to his neck.

Letting out an animal scream, Lev unleashed his single shotgun shell from his revolver. Pellets grazed his head and tore across his ear, the majority sinking into the head of his Dybbuk. Blood flowed openly from his wound, the gash messy from the torn flesh and muscle. In the heat of the moment he brushed off the pain, firing wildly in to the crowd of undead that was now alarmingly closer. He sprayed ammunition as he charged forward, bloodlust overtaking him. At point blank range the carnage became nothing but madness. He felt the cuts, tears, claws, and teeth sinking in to him. But he could not stop. Lev kept firing and firing. Dozens of Dybbuk fell to the ground, with always more to replace them. Soon the gunfire stopped, but Lev's screams continued on.