GM
These cramped, dark corridors make for a natural choke point. If anyone wants to get to you and the stairwell, they gotta transverse this singular hallway.
Easy pickings, you think. Your shotgun hungers quietly on your back. It has always hungered.
Trust nobody. Kill everyone you meet. They are the enemy. It's you or them. It's you or them. It's you or them.
You. You. You. Them. The enemy. Them. The enemy. Bullets. And silence.
...
You spread small chunks of rubble and debris throughout the hallway, jury-rigging a primitive alert system. The shotgun rests contemplatively in your hands; an old friend and an old comfort in this heartless hellhole. Sounds of movement come closer. Closer. You are able make out two muffled voices coming from the direction you previously came from. Your hunch was right: Mr. Pistol had backup.
"Wetin yu de du? Boss-man sabi never come here"
"Shut up, pussy. He's a scavenger. He's nothing. They do all the work for us."
The strong take from the weak. It is what it is. Your grip tightens in anticipation. The movement comes closer. You hear the rocks being kicked aways. It's time.
The mousetrap closes. You roll into the hallway and empty three shells into the unfortunate saps pursuing you. The thundering booms echoes throughout the building. The pistol pursuer is barely able to let out an expletive as his head bursts apart like overripe papaya. The rest of his body falls over with a wet thud. The other fella, a typical machete wielding goon oh so common in this day and age, takes a direct hit to the thigh and is blasted to the floor, forever separating him from one of his legs. He isn't dead but clearly he's well on his way.
You carry a blank expression, ears still ringing, as you walk to the fallen raider. He can only belt out a pitiful "N-No!' and he feebly tries to grasp his machete. The ringing gives way to the sound of labored breathing.
It's the sound of a man bleeding to death. A heart slowing down. How sweet the sound.
You consider finishing him off. Mercy. Or maybe a waste of ammo.
Before you can complete that thought, you immediately take notice of a chorus of bloody screams in the distance. Sounded like they came from below.
Uh oh.