One. Last. Painting.

vineger soaks the room, with an acidic haze, the scent mixing with urine and exrement as the task force moves deeper into the anomaly. food colouring stains the ground, or is that blood? the team clicks off the safeties on the guns after they stup on some red paint and it shatters and crunches, they move past the rotten eggs, so overwhelmingly festered, that not even the maggots writhe there, instead choosing to follow the force like crows on a battle field.

until they see him. it.

the easter bunny painting an egg, a thin shelled one, with a human fetus, a homunculus, writhing inside it.

they spend the rounds, and their lives, banishing that thing with the holy power of american made bullets.

may we remember their sacrifice.