The path from Easthaven moved away from the mountains into the wetter climates of the hills toward the valley. They passed through a few small villages. The villages had taken advantage of their connection to Easthaven and the land to cultivate crops, herd livestock in the hills, and produce unique goods for the city. Their stops in the villages were short or nonexistent depending on what times of day they arrived. If they arrived in the evening a bed in the village helped the monotony of living on the road. Otherwise, Elias and Alice set up their tents and camped out for the night.

He rode in front as the late afternoon turned to night. Scanning the landscape, he spotted a few buildings. The land around them had been converted into crop fields. It was quiet except for their horses trotting.

It was a small settlement, consisting of a cluster of cottages with thatched roofs and cobblestone paths. In the fading light, the village appeared empty and unsettling.

Elias and Alice exchanged uneasy glances as they approached. The village should have been bustling with life at this hour, but not a single soul could be seen. The windows of the cottages were dark, and the doors were shut tight. Even the warm glow of hearth fires that typically spilled from the windows on a chilly evening was conspicuously absent.

They dismounted from their horses and tied them to a nearby hitching post. Elias took a deep breath, his senses in high alert. The air held a strange, heavy stillness, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl. The silence was oppressive, almost as if the very earth held its breath.

Alice stepped closer to Elias, her voice barely a whisper. "This place gives me the creeps, Elias. It's like everyone just vanished."

He nodded, sharing her unease. "I don't like it either, Alice. We should be cautious. Stay close."

They cautiously entered the village, their footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestone paths. The cottages, though quaint and charming, exuded an eerie emptiness. Curtains billowed slightly through open windows, but there was no sign of life within. The absence of any sound, not even the chirping of crickets, was unnerving.

As they explored further, they came upon a village square, its centerpiece a weathered stone wall. Nearby, a market stall stood abandoned, its wares left to rot. Fruit lay scattered on the ground, forgotten by an absent vendor.

Elias approached the well and peered down into its depths, but the water was still and undisturbed. Alice examined the market stall, her fingers lightly touching the bruised and forgotten fruit. "Something's not right here, Elias," she said.

He nodded again, his gaze scanning the deserted village. "We should find shelter for the night and leave at first light. This village should be quite active even at night. I don’t know if something happened to the people here or if their leaving was something ordered. I don't want to stay here longer than we have to."

With that decision made, they headed toward the largest cottage at the center of the village. Its door creaked open with eerie reluctance, revealing a dimly lit interior. They stepped inside their senses on high alert.

“Tonight, we will go through watch rotations,” said Elias. “I’ll start and I’ll call for you in a few hours. Whatever you do stay here. I’m going to explore this house and around the building. Keep your sword nearby.”

“Do you want to wait and take the second watch instead? I can handle myself. There is a lot of area to search. You might miss something.”

“Stay here. You need the rest. I can see it in your eyes. I’ll handle it. If I find something more substantial then I will call for you. Otherwise, start setting up our stuff. I will be back soon,” said Elias reassuringly.

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Alice frowned. She didn’t but his words but stayed at their makeshift camp in the cottage. Elias stepped out of the cottage. The door creaked as he did so. He started to circle the building. His eyes tried to peer through the dim light. The moon reflected down illuminating most of the area.

Elias walked cautiously around the outside of the cottage; his footsteps soft on the gravel path. The night air was thick with an unsettling stillness, and the deserted village seemed to hold its breath. The cottage, though weathered by time, exuded an eerie aura, its windows dark and its timbers groaning softly in the breeze.

His unease grew as he approached the well at the center of town. Moonlight bathed the ancient stone structure in a ghostly glow, casting long, jagged shadows that danced across the cobblestones. The well's water, contrary to the usual serenity of such places, rippled and churned without provocation, a disquieting sight.

Elias's heart quickened as he bent down to examine the strange phenomenon, but before he could react, a nightmarish hand shot out from the water's depths, cold and clammy, and seized his wrist with a vice-like grip. Panic surged through him as he tried to pull away, but the creature from below clung tenaciously.

With a swift and desperate movement, Elias drew his sword from its scabbard. His heart pounding in his chest, he brought the blade down with all his strength, severing the ghastly arm from its sinister source. The severed limb thrashed briefly, then vanished beneath the water's surface with a gurgling, otherworldly hiss.

The well erupted in a furious frenzy of bubbles as if the very depths of the earth were spewing forth their malevolent inhabitants. Undead creatures, their eyes hollow and ghastly, their flesh rotting and decaying, clawed their way out of the well's abyss.

Elias had no time to ponder the nature of these vile beings. With adrenaline surging through his veins, he swung his sword down in a deadly arc, striking down the first of the creatures as they swarmed toward him. More strikes followed in an attempt to cut them down.

From behind him, Alice jumped out to help him. Her sword was already at the ready and she cut an undead creature at the waist.

“What happened to calling for me?” asked Alice.

“Did you follow me?” he responded.

“This seems like a rather substantial change and find. Were you expecting to take these things on your own?”

“No. I wasn’t expecting undead to be here. They are too far north. It makes me worry. Your help is appreciated though. If you can keep up,” he said as he brought his sword down on another undead.

They continued to pour out of the well. Its construction limited their mobility a little bit, but it also limited their swings.

“How many more undead are there? They just keep coming out of the well.”

“Probably the entire village if I had to guess.”

He spun his sword into another undead. Its head fell off its body. With a kick, the body fell back into another undead. He speared that one with his sword where its heart would be. The undead creatures did not have blood and instead, black ichor spilled from their wounds. They used their teeth and sharpened claw hands to attack, which helped Elias immensely. The undead did not get close enough to properly strike at him. He sidestepped and moved fluidly through their forces.

Next to him Alice also fought. She sliced into the undead enemies severing limbs and keeping them at bay. Still, they had to back up as the number of undead grew.

“We need to stop them from coming out of the well,” said Alice. “Can you get back to the well?”

“Give me a minute or two and I can rush over there. Though I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”

“Destroy the well somehow.”

“Sword does not cut through stone. At least not any of the swords I have wielded before.”

As Elias killed another zombified undead he pushed forward. Sweeping his sword in a wide arc he cleared some space for himself. The zombies caught in his blade were cut into pieces. His blade did not slow as he completed the swing. He brought his sword down on the undead in front of him. His feet still moved forward.

The relentless tide of undead continued to press against Elias and Alice as they fought their way toward the well. He could feel the fatigue starting to set in, but he knew they couldn't afford to let up. Alice's determination matched his own, and she continued to cut down the undead with precision.

Elias finally managed to reach the edge of the well, his chest heaving with exertion. He glanced down into the darkness below, trying to come up with a plan. The well was made of solid stone, and his sword alone wouldn't be enough to destroy it. But then an idea struck him.

“Here goes nothing.” He thrust his sword forward in between the undead and into the depths of the murky substance below.

The undead dropped to the ground. The well cracked. A long split grew in the stone before water spilled out from the top of the well. It spread over the bottom of his boots and to the fallen undead. The strings of their life cut abruptly. Then a roar echoed out from the depths of the well.