"Give me a name", his hoarse voice said as he stepped on the humid ground. The sounds of breaking leaves and bird songs filled in the quietness of his mind, waiting for some answer. Surely that thing was monitoring him constantly and he could even interact with it to some extent. There was a specific channel, a noise that the Undead would register whenever the glass-like voice slithered into his mind. That same channel was not easy to find, like a word that slipped out of one's mind mid-sentence. Receiving the transmission was entirely different to attempting a two way communication.
Alas the noises didn't ring back, so now he focused on different things. His environment was similar to that of Argos, the trees and the fallen leaves, the birds cooing and singing their melodies, the earthly smell and mushrooms on the side of the tree trunks. At first he had thought it an alien wold. Faded into the darkness of the night and with a lapsing consciousness he couldn't clearly distinguish his surroundings, until now. Now he could not only see, he could [perceive].
He wasn't tiring out, he had gotten used to the constant pain, but his steps were unbalanced, his vessel was damaged.
This undead was more nimble than other similar beings he knew of. 'Zombies', so they were called in Argos, [Walking Dead] that terrorised humans in fictional stories. They spread by infecting living creatures with a virus that would slowly strip them of their faculties and reduce them to tireless, hungry corpses, as per the usual trope. But his state was not that resulting of a disease, or was it? The black tendril-worms could be classified as a disease in this world for all he knew.
But the most important information he had managed to gain was that [Humans], existed in this world as well. It made his situation worse. If humans existed and if they found out that he exists, they would hunt him down, there's no other fate a walking corpse, a desecration of life, could meet if it confronted humans. On the other hand, if he got his hands on human tools, they would provide many uses.
For now the objective was to get as far away from the worms as possible. The mountain was getting bigger, little by little the distance got shorter, and the sun started to set.
Compared to the nights of Argos, where artificial lighting filled everything in yellow and hues of neon colours dominated the busy streets, this little forest might have seemed lacking at first. The sun that crowned the titanic mountain slowly disappeared from the sky. The darker it got, more odd and wonderful things let themselves be seen among the blackness of the night. Luminescent flowers, vines and insects darted around left and right as he passed them by, some flora looked like it was even moving, beckoning someone to look at them.
His steps became quieter, slower, a wondrous light drew him in like a lamp would a mosquito. A towering tree, leaves glowing red and bark so white that it could jest it was basking in daylight. He got closer to the tree, and examined it carefully. A rock was thrown into the tree from within the silent shadows, as soon as it touched the white wood it disappeared without a sound. More things he should be weary of, no matter how beautiful.
Without light from the sun his vision was severely decreased, but his [senses] allowed the Undead to detect objects and movements. This perception was not as far-reaching as sight, its radius was at most three meters long, but it was enough to aid in finding footings in darkness and to avoid obstacles.
There were many mysteries regarding his body and the way it operated, what mana was and how to use it. As soon as he thought on it, a message popped up in his head [Mana: 40/50]. It had decreased by a fifth by the time he had reached the foot of the mountain. And it was then that he heard the screams.
"Hi mister.", the young boy greeted a tired and hurt swordsman. He looked like he had tumbled instead of walked to reach the village and his scabbard was empty. The man did not respond to the boy's voice, he looked dazed and confused. The curious child came closer to it and looked up at its face. Screams and shouts would then sink into the quiet village. Blood would dye the streets red before the setting sun could. There weren't many in the village that could fight corrupted and undead one on one, much less while outnumbered. It was a massacre.
It was bad luck. Such bad luck, to run into the same thing he was running away from. Corpses infested by the black worms wandered with blank looks on their almost living-looking faces. Some were just standing still, while others violently swung their arms at doors and walls, groaning and muttering incoherently.
Out of a window jumped a woman holding a child in her embrace. Once she touched the ground she broke into a run. Her haste was commendable, but it did not serve her for long. The undead were slow, but they were many. Before she managed to reach the fence of the farmland she was surrounded, but the child managed to escape and witness the woman being torn limb from limb into a bloody pile of bones and organs. She had said something in a soft voice, then the child started running up a path that led a way out of the village
The undead gathered on top of the corpse and hungrily stuffed their mouths with flesh.
The situation in this place was dire, humans would surely catch wind of something like this happening and come to 'take care of it'. There was no merit in staying. More importantly this pest was there.
"Then, I'll give chase."
Following the hurried footprints of the child, a horrifying pursuer went soundlessly.
From behind a tormented whisper murmured.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"RHOMBICUBOCTAHEDRON!", the ferocity of her shout could compare to an avalanche. Her expression was that of the most pure, undiluted fury. "HOW DARE YOU BETRAY ME!"
The woman dressed in the black cloak spat at the prophet god. He did not speak.
"You may think that you're all seeing, but I know there's a place even your eye can't peer into! You plotting bastard, I will have my retribution."
-What vanity, Lady of the spear. Neither your law, nor your conviction can carry you further. This is the end for you my sweet accomplice.-
Adorned in a shrine sculpted with odd shapes and appendages, sat a single rotating shape of squares and triangles which twisted in every direction.
-Your master is dead and I shall fill their seat, but if you wish, I can take you with me. What do you say abandoned warrior? Join me.-
She gritted her teeth. "Never, not while I draw breath."
-THE SEAL IS GONE, O GUARDIAN! There is nothing to bind you on your duty. Your leash has been released, yet you wish to stay here and die. A FAILURE. Or you can join with me and transcend the boundaries of your frailty. Just for ONCE, do as I say.-
"Never, you disgust me." She gave out her last strength to whisper those words, before her heart stopped beating.
Red black-magic surged out of the ground and covered their prison, their home. She had drawn her final breath, but she would not be allowed the eternal slumber. Unspeakable horrors swelled out of the miniature world, beings made from nightmares, winter and blood, and a woman.
A woman who's hair was as dark as the night and who's eyes were as bright as the sun. Her smile contained rage loud enough to burst, her steps shattered the very earth she walked. Her wish was granted, revenge dripped from her pores like honey.