"It isn't one of ours, take it out" shouted the squad's sergeant.
The group opened fire on the man who was just dead a few minutes ago. He went down as he did before but this time he stood back up. The man's hands turned into claws and he attacked the group. He cut them open one by one before escaping into the city. More Russian soldiers cornered him. He turned to the leader and lunged at him, splattering blood all over. Frank shot up from the couch his limp body was resting on and popped the claws again. He had broken some item that had tied up his arms. He jumped back and watched the claws turn back into his hands.
"Where am I, how did I get here!" He yelled, unsure if anyone was in this house.