Luke smirked faintly, satisfied.
Truth be told, there was a reason he spun things out this way. Experience had already taught him that laying out the full truth only brought him scorn and disbelief. Selene herself, back when he opened up to her, had looked at him like he was halfway to being a lunatic.
So yeah, it was better to weave a story that sounded grounded—something these people could process. It made him look more credible, less like some psycho spouting delusions in the middle of a nightmare.
Before the extra could think of a comeback, a deep, guttural roar rolled through the church. It wasn't from outside this time—it came from within.
Everyone froze. The sound echoed through the building.
Jill came running back into the hall, gun already raised. "We don't have time for this. We need to move—now. They're inside."
Almost as if on cue, Selene tilted her head, her sharp senses picking up movement that others couldn't. Her gaze slid upward toward the rafters, her expression hardening.
"We've got company," she said flatly, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Luke followed her gaze, his stomach dropping.
Oh, hell no…
From above, something skittered fast across the beams. The sound was like nails on stone, mixed with wet, unnatural breathing. Shadows shifted in the dim candlelight, and then—
—one of them peeked its head over. Pale, skinless face, no eyes, tongue twitching like a whip.
A Licker.
Luke groaned. "Why is it always the ceiling with these things? Do zombies have some kind of membership card for dramatic entrances?"
Terri yelped, nearly dropping her camera. Peyton stepped back instinctively, hand over his bite wound.
Jill's jaw tightened as she aimed upwards. "Move. Stay low and head for the back exit."
"Correction," Luke muttered, "Stay low, and don't look appetizing."
The extra couldn't take it anymore. His nerves snapped the second that grotesque thing revealed itself above them. His face twisted in panic, and before anyone could stop him, he bolted down the hall, boots hammering against the wooden floor.
Thump-thump-thump—each frantic step echoed like a dinner bell through the church's hollow chamber.
"Hey, don't go!" Peyton shouted, his voice cracking, gun wavering as he kept his trembling aim on the shifting shadows above.
Too late.
A blur of raw muscle and claws dropped from the ceiling with a WHAM! that shook the floorboards.
The Licker slammed into the man with bone-crunching force, claws stabbing straight through flesh and wood as it pinned him like a bug to a board.
The poor fool shrieked, the sound high and raw, cut short as the creature's gaping maw snapped down. CRUNCH! Its teeth tore into his shoulder, ripping through meat with a wet, tearing SKRRCH! Blood sprayed across the pews in a sickening arc.
The man's scream turned into a gurgle, echoing off the stone walls as the Licker yanked him up the wall with inhuman speed, claws scraping SKREEEEEK against the stone.
For one horrifying moment his body dangled upside down, twitching and convulsing, before the monster lost interest. With a careless jerk, it tossed him aside. THUD! His broken body hit the floor like discarded trash. The silence after louder than the scream itself.
Gunshots cracked through the church—BANG! BANG! BANG!—Jill and Peyton unloading at the rafters.
The flashes lit the ceiling in quick bursts, but the Licker was already gone, claws scraping skrrrch! as it darted into the dark.
"Fuck—what the hell is that?!" Peyton yelled, the pistol shaking so bad it almost slipped from his grip. His face was drenched in sweat, eyes wide open like he'd just seen death itself.
"Don't know," Jill snapped, keeping her gun rock-steady, scanning the shadows with sharp precision. Her tone cut like steel. "But there are more than one."
Luke had to admit, he was impressed. Jill Valentine wasn't panicking like the rest—she was already analyzing, already adapting. A pro through and through.
Unlike Terri, who was clutching her camera like it was a life vest, wide-eyed and trembling. And the other guy? He looked so terrified.
He was just about to step forward, ready to show the group why a little fire magic goes a long way, when Selene's gloved hand caught his wrist.
"Selene?" He blinked.
"Let me take care of them," she said. Her voice was calm, but her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She seems like she wants to test her skills.
Luke hesitated, "Uh… you do realize there's more than one, right? As in, plural? With claws, tongues, and a really bad skincare routine?"
Her lips curled just slightly. "I can handle it."