Chapter 9

                One of the young girls began to scream as the Undead materialized out of the darkness. Their small village was poor so the only lights currently lit were those that were being used in the town square and the odd candle in an open window. Thus most of the town’s streets were dark. A darkness that the black robed figures and their Undead minions had used to sneak up to the unsuspecting villagers.

With an unspoken command the Undead rushed forward. People began to scream and flee away from the Undead they could see. Often this meant they fled across the square hoping that way was not blocked too. Since people all ran into the middle of the square pushing and fighting instantly broke out. Neighbors for years suddenly began to beat on each other as they fought to flee for their lives. Andrea stood there watching the people she knew her entire life fight. When someone got through the crowd they realized that the new way was just as blocked as the way they had just fled from.

A few had instead ran directly at the undead screaming a sort of battle cry. Those few were hit by some kind of black wavy beam shot from the robed figures hands. When hit their charges stopped as their limp forms collapsed to the ground in small puffs of dust.

A tiny few whom had spent time in the kingdom’s military before it fell banded together forming a circle; with their families in the center. But unarmed or armed with small knives Andrea could already see they would not last long. 

Half panicked people broke and fled outward causing a rush as people ran as a herd for the town’s outskirts. Andrea to terrified to do anything more than watch saw as the Undead killed without remorse.  Looking around she saw the Village elders along with the few guards had vanished, leaving the Undead completely free to do as their Black robed masters commanded.

Andrea screamed as cold dead hands grabbed her from behind. Her numb instincts which had previously been subdued by shock flared to life. She began to kick and scream, fighting to escape and flee. No matter what she did the hands did not release. The dead do not feel pain and she lacked the means to do anything more than hurt a normal person.  She was drug off the small stage and thrown into the square with others whom had been caught.

Andrea hit the hard packed earth with a whoof. The wind was knocked from her chest. Sitting up trying to breath she fought back her panic. As she took in her first ragged breathe she rolled to the side as another villager was thrown into eh mix of bodes. Standing Andrea rushed at the Undead fingers outstretched in claws. Her nails bit deep into eh rotting flesh of the zombie. Her middle finger sunk deep into a rancid eye with a gut clenching slurp sound. The undead did not even react t the pain. It simply shoved Andrea back forcefully, knocking her off her feet again, the dead man’s eye still stuck on her finger.

Andrea hit the ground and felt bile rise in her Throat. When another flying villager landed on her, the contents of her stomach exploded forth into the air covering herself and everyone around her. The sobbing woman who landed on her rolled off and threw up as well. Fear mixed with the fresh sounds and smells of vomit created a chain of people losing their dinner.

Andrea now covered in her own and others vomit stood again. With shaking legs she looked out, searching for a way past the Undead circle around the villagers. Not seeing one she ran at the Undead again but slid to a stop. Mr. Fletcher her neighbor stood there. His throat had been ripped out by sharp skeletal fingers. Cold lifeless eyes stared at Andrea as blood stained teeth gnashed. Andrea knew that without the black robed figures control Mr. Fletcher would be trying to kill and eat Andrea even now…

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An explosion of fire hit three black robed figures on the east side of the town square. If Andrea hadn’t been succumbing to shock she would have seen the towns few guards along with the village elders rushing into the square. Weapons were raised and shouts of battle were met with the noiseless movement of undead. Fire balls, ice spikes, and hurling stones were conjured and hurled toward the shocked Necromancers. A dozen half robed figures fell along with a score of Undead as the villager’s combatants surprise lasted. Within seconds though the Undead surged forward, curses were hurled, and death magics retaliated.

Death magic has very few protective elements, but it makes up for that weakness with an absurd amount of power. As a result on both sides when a spell was cast someone died. For a short time it looked like the hero’s charge may win the day. But every time one of them fell mortally wounded they would stand again to attack their former comrades. When the Village protectors reached their second set of encircled villagers they could see the way the battle would go. Instead of fighting to the last, they directed their rescued people and made for the cover of darkness.

Some necromancers began to follow along with their undead horde, but the first one whom had spoken called out, “Let them go. We have plenty of new creations and even more new slaves.”  The Necromancers did not utter a single word as they returned at their master’s command.

There was no looting or plundering of the village other than that of its inhabitants that night. In one quick raid the Necromancers had taken or killed 3/4 of the village. The captured villagers were pushed, shoved and beaten to the south away from the fallen capital of Axeal and toward the Newmark kingdom.

Andrea was forced to march with the other through the entire night. As she stumbled on a loose rock she fought to recover. If she fell she may not get up again. Those whom were not able to keep up with the pace, due to age, injury, or lack of will were killed on site. Their bodies would appear among the walking dead a short time later. A part of Andrea’s mind broke over the course of the next three days.

They would walk until the Master Necromancer would call a halt. The villagers would collapse into nightmare filled sleep where they had stood. The Necromancers would pull out food and eat.  Before also finding a place to sleep. The dead would watch their living charges not caring or needing the rest. The only one who would eat warm cooked food or not sleep directly under the stars was the Master Necromancer. She would have one of her underlings prepare her food and set up a tent.

When morning came Andrea noticed that the groups of prisoners had grown over night. It was a sign of how emotionally shocked she was that: She did not even consider where they came from or why, only if it would cause her more suffering.

Overnight two more groups of Necromancers had arrived and joined the group. Out of the 150 or so villagers captured only 70 had remained when eh sun went down. Now though there was nearly 300 captured prisoners. Surrounding them was nearly four times that many dead.

As the sun rose Andrea was surprised to see black robed figures leading a group of zombies from one group of survivors to another. They would first count the living, then give them water and toss a few loafs of dried bread and a couple hunks of jerky on the group before walking off. Andrea found herself in a pile of bodies fighting for the scrapes of food. The villagers had not eaten since they were kidnapped and now they acted like ravenous beasts. Andrea was able to grab a loaf of bread long enough to take a huge bite, before it was stolen from her. Chewing her feast she crawled out of the mass of bodies struggling for the food.  As she exited the melee she saw a fist sized piece of jerky tumble out from between legs. The combatants were so focused on the battle for food that they did not even notice the meat was now gone. Scrambling over she quickly grabbed the meat and looked around to see if she was seen. No one had. With sheer will she resisted not gnawing onto the meat and instead tucked it under her skirt into her undergarments to keep it safe.