“OH WHAT NOW! SURPRISED YA! Ryland was laughing as his body erupted from the barrel.
He could feel his body itching to attack, that bond pressing hard into his brain. But the thief was smart, forcing back the hunger he kept the zombie still. Those stupid bandits didn’t know what they were dealing with, each one casually checking the cargo and calling out various goods. A sadistic grin stretched across his face as he waited for the lackey to approach. The closer the man got, the more excited his body got. Finally, that bandit reached out and Ryland couldn’t hold it back anymore.
Infused with deathly magics, the zombie was a monstrous force. Otherworldly strength shattered the wooden restraints with ease. The bandit tried to run from the ambush, but was too slow. He took two steps before the beast was on him. Ryland cheered as his body leapt onto the man’s back and slammed him into the dirt. Blood was drawn as the sharp talons dug deep into the flesh, his leather armor giving little resistance to the undead creature. Yet even through the pain the bandit tried to fight back. Shifting his weight, he rolled across the grass trying to dislodge the ravenous zombie. Screams left his throat as he called out for help.
Ryland had to give it to the man, he was scrappy. He tried punching the zombie, but each hit only made his knuckles bleed. Realizing he was outgunned, he tried to disengage. Using his legs, he kicked the creature in the chest. It worked, the zombie recoiled just enough for him to crawl away. Using his hands and feet, he stumbled forward to create distance. But this wasn’t an ordinary beast, before he got back onto his feet the creature lashed out.
“ARGHAR” He cried out as the nail sliced into his ankle.
His leg crumbled as the Achilles was sliced. With a dead leg, he tried to shuffle back with his hands. A feeling of dread washed over as the creature charged once more. Thinking fast, he grabbed his dagger and feeble held it forward. In a knife fight, one died and one left in stitches. With the zombie already dead, it didn’t even care as the blade pierced deep into its chest. Rancid blood bubbled out and coated the bandit’s hand as he tried to pull back. But the dagger was deeply lodged into the dead flesh. Disarmed and incapacitated, he could only watch as the beast began to feast.
Even after watching his body feast, it was still quite gruesome. It didn’t help that the man continued to scream the entire time it happened.
“Can’t you like….Kill him first? Is this necessary?” He loomed over the zombie, but the creature didn’t respond. It was far too focused on slurping down that wonderful lifeforce.
This was a man-eat-man world and the zombie exemplified it. With brutal efficiency, the sharp claws cut into the warm flesh. Tearing open the abdomen, it salivated at the juicy, tender innards. Reaching inside, it scooped out chunks of meat before biting into the still-living tissue. A feeling of raw ecstasy passed through their bond as he feasted. It only took one bite for the knife wound to start closing. New flesh pushing out the sharp dagger and stitching itself shut. Going in for a second helping the man’s screams transformed into gurgles. But the zombie kept chewing, it wanted to eat as much as possible before the spirit left. Reaching down deep, it scooped out the guts and tore. Dislocating its jaw, it shoved the meat inside and slurped up the intestines like a bowl of ramen.
“Where are you packing all those pounds?” Ryland was both very disturbed and very curious. His body had consumed nearly five feet of man-sausage but the belly didn’t even expand.
It hadn’t eaten this good since…ever. Ready to sample more, it spit out some chunks of guts and grabbed onto the ribs. Even Ryland had to avert his eyes as the zombie slowly broke each rib. One by one, they were broken from the sternum and tossed to the side. With most gone, the fingers reached underneath and pulled. It wasn’t a clean break and the zombie had to rock back and forth a bit to get it out, but soon it tore free with a sickening
CRACK
It was at this point that the others realized what was going on. Each one two focused on their own loot to notice the screams. As they rushed across the field, the zombie ignored their approach. Besides, it made it easier when the food came to it. Tonight was going to be a wondrous buffet of exotic treats and delights.
But for now, it wanted that succulent, tender prize. Pulling back the remaining bones, it shoved its face right into the chest cavity. Like a twisted version of bobbing for apples, it searched for the pulsating muscle. Sensing the source of life, the teeth bit down onto the squirming flesh. Pulling back, veins ripped open and ligaments snapped with a squishy squelch. It took a bit of force to bust the connective tissue, but with one final flex; the zombie ripped out the man’s heart. His life quickly fading moments after. Reaching up, it quickly devoured the fleshy fun prize–Savoring the raw life energies flooding through it.
Ryland felt the joy and satisfaction pressing into their bond. It was the thrill of hunting combined with a full stomach. The excess power transforms into a sensation of happiness. Yet, that bond quickly shifted as the first bandit appeared. He paused and the two made eye contact. While he’d seen death, this was on another level. It was a bloody scene, crimson viscera covering the grassy field as the zombie held the chewed up heart. He wanted to vomit, but that quickly shifted into a feeling of rage.
“You ate him, and then you are going to try and eat me. OH MY GOD!” And he attacked.
He was a brute compared to this spindly man. Using one of his skills; he licked the zombie in the chest, launching him across the grass.
“Don’t worry friend, Ill avenge you” he promised the desecrated corpse.
Drawing his sword, he went in for the kill. This wasn’t his first time dispatching a wayward zombie. Anytime they raided a battlefield or entered a mass grave, there was a natural chance of animation. All it took was one good hit to the head and they’d be down for good. His buddy was stupid for getting caught. Should have gone for a head stab instead of whatever the hell he did. Twirling his sword, he was going to do this with a bit of flair. Might as well use this thing as a training dummy.
Unfortunately for him, Ryland’s body was anything but a zombie. With a fresh meal and flooded with deathly magics; he was a full on ghoul. Bones sprouted from the extremities and sharpened into daggers. Its milky eyes tracked the movement as it studied the attacker. Ryland’ could feel the rage building. This man had interrupted the feast and would pay dearly for it.
“Fine, I’ll help” Ryland activated [Shared Strength] and gifted some of his energy to the creature.
The bandit raised his sword and charged forward. A battlecry left his throat as his muscles bulged from various buffs. Each step he seemed to grow a few inches and cover more ground. Not wanting to be outdone, the zombie met his charge with its own. As the torches burned around, their forms cast deep shadows in the grassy arena. A wide swing started the attack, it was a full-forced assault meant to cut the creature in two. Digging its hand into the ground, the zombie ducked under the sword and pivoted. A bloodied hand lashed out towards the calf, only to be deflected by the glistening steel. Rotten meat was carved off as the sword dug into the arm, yet the reinforced bone only chipped under the swing. He quickly went into an overhead swing, only to miss as the zombie rolled across the ground. Leaping up, the creature latched onto the bandit’s arm. Deep gashes formed in the flesh as the claws tore through the skin. A second skill was activated and he flung the beast back. The claws dig deep into the earth to slow the momentum. There was no respite as the Zombie went on the attack once more.
It rushed forward, one clawed hand reaching outward aiming for the man’s gut. The swordsman shifted his weight and spun his leg forward. Bone met bone as he tripped the charging monster, his sword lashing out and slipping between the ribs. Thick globs of congealed blood splattered the grass below. He followed up with his own lunge, only for his weapon to be deflected by the forearm. The zombie backed off briefly, the wounds quickly stitching up as dark magics pooled around the cuts.
“You are a hardy one arent you?” He called out.
It was only a brief engagement and he was sweating. The zombie was unlike any undead he’d fought before. An intelligence sat behind the milky eyes and the movements far faster than most men. He needed to end this fast, he only had a few more skills left. One small mistake and it’d be his guts on the ground.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
But he was merely a man and the undead never played fair. With an uncanny groan, the zombie attacked once again. Instead of charging, it swung its clawed limbs in wide arcs. This was no tactical assault, instead it was flailing without care. Stepping back, he planted his leg for support and began to parry the fury of limbs. Each arcing swing knocked aside by the edge of his blade. Thick chunks of muscle were severed and slabs of flesh splattered the earth. Yet for all the damage dealt, nothing slowed the frenzied attack. As fast as he carved the creative, the next swing it had regenerated.
As the seconds passed, his stamina drained. Muscles began to ache and his vision blurred from the salty sweat. He started to slow down as exhaustion set it. Then it all went to hell. One missed block and the clawed hand tore into his side. Blood rushed from the open wound, amplifying the fatigue. He kept trying to hold his ground, just needing to last until one of the others engaged. He could barely lift his sword for the final block when.
SHUNK
An arrow pierced the skull and scrambled the brain. He fell to his knees and watched as the creature began to stumble. Hands reached up to the shaft and tried to remove the wood, but it held fast. It only took two more steps before collapsing to the ground, becoming a corpse once more.
Congratulations! You have reached level 7! Please select your new skills promptly.
The Will echoed in his head. What the hell was this thing? He was still far from leveling, but this thing gave him a ton of experience. Whatever, take the blessings when you can. Maybe The Will was entertained by the fight and gave him a bonus. Tearing off his shirt, he wrapped it around the open wound. He’d need to see a healer after this. Undead related injuries tended to get infected quickly. With the bleeding halted, he spit to the side and called out.
“Took you long enough!”
“What? Thought you could handle a lowly zombie. You owe me five gold for that save”
“Bullshit, you still owe me for cards last night. Don’t try to weasel out of this one”
“Fuck you! I know you are a cheat”
The two continued to argue before the leader stepped in. They had already lost most of their group and a fight would only make things worse. He opened a pouch and tossed a bottle of alcohol to the swordsmen. Uncapping the container, he grimaced as he poured the distilled liquor on the open wound. It stung like hell, but better than dying of grave rot. With all the threats down, they sat around the fire to distribute the loot.
Ryland ran over to Steve.
“Steve man, Why didn’t you help? We could have taken them!” He was pissed
“What do you want me to do? I only have basic spells and he stole my dagger”
“Seriously? Literally anything other than wallowing in filth would help out. I can’t do this alone”
“Look you are already dead, I’m not and I would like to keep it that way. Unless you have a plan, I’ll lay right here until they are gone.”
“I know that is a lie. I saw him trying to cut off that finger of yours. You just gonna let them do that? Besides what do you think will happen when he sees you bleeding? You were carrying a Zombie, they will take you straight to Deas and serve you on a ivory platter.”
Steve hated it, but Ryland was right. He was the bigger man and didn’t feel the urge to argue. The two were in another mess and would have to work together to figure it out.
“Fine, but I got nothing. I’m already drained from getting us out of the village and I’m better at fleeing then fighting”
“Hmm, I think I got a plan. These guys are pretty dumb. I mean we watched like half of them get murdered by a manic in a cart.” Ryland leaned down and whispered his idea.
“Got it?” Ryland asked and Steve nodded in agreement
“Good, that arrow is draining the hell out of my energy. Good thing we overfilled it earlier or I don’t think this will work. Sent a command to my body to lay low, that battle turned into a 3 v 1– no thanks to you–and they gave me the perfect out. When they get close, I’ll signal a new assault. This time, I better see you doing your best.”
Even though Steve admitted to being bad in a fight, he was still quite scrappy. He’d witnessed the man fighting to the death in the cave and that was a 2 v 1. Or well, a 1 v 1 with some annoying bits from the ghost. He’d have some time to think of an attack while they waited. If Ryland and his body got a quick kill, they might be able to take out the rest. But if Steve could at least get rid of one, they’d be in a very strong spot.
“Don’t let me down buddy” He mumbled as he ran back to the bandit camp.
As they chatted, he carefully surveyed the area and took notes on where they stored their goods. He couldn’t do much as a ghost and needed to conserve as much energy as possible for his body, but he might be able to assist in other ways…
“We gotta torch Jake and the Zombie. Can’t have them reanimating again” The boss said.
“Agreed, but we should grab some evidence for those priests.”
“Right, go back and cut an ear or something. Hell, cut one of the driver, Jake, and that other guy. Might be able to pass them off as well”
“Good thinking boss, Who gonna do it?” The lackey asked.
All three looked a him.
“Come on I don’t wanna do it. What if he comes back? I aint got no skills in battle!” But they wouldn’t budge.
“Fine fine…” he mumbled and got up.
Grabbing one of the daggers he walked over to the zombie in the field. The creature was bent in strange ways and facing the sky.
“Hey! Grab my arrow while you are out there. Those things ain't cheap” The archer said.
“You come get it! I ain’t touching no zombie brains” The lackey screamed back.
“I’ll shoot your eye out kid if you don’t do it” The archer threatened.
He wanted to respond, but knew it would only cause trouble. Didn’t want to get stabbed while sleeping, especially with all this loot split between them. Instead he bent down, cursing the man as he surveyed the body. Even dead…again, he swore those milky-white eyes were staring right at him. The face busted open from the munition and covered in blood. Its gaping maw littered with chunks of flesh and muscle, while the torn clothes were covered in gore. hose milky-white eyes were staring right at him. Bits of blood and chunks of muscle trapped between the teeth while the clothes were stained with crimson. He wasn’t sure whose blood was whose and honestly didn’t want to know. Reaching down, he grabbed the shaft and started to push it through the skull.
“Damn you are one ugly bastard.” He tried to distract his brain from the horrid, squishy sounds as the arrow passed through.
Ryland was highly offended by the comment. Yes his corpse might not be the prettiest thing in the world, but it was ten times better then this so-called bandits. This man was covered in muck, smelled like fresh manure, and was missing half his teeth. How dare he call his body ugly! The eye alone was three tiers prettier than this man. That statement nearly made him attack right then. But, he let it slide as the man removed the annoying arrow. With a final–Squelch it popped free. A sigh of relief was shared through their bond. Before the bandit could notice the regeneration, he shut off the flow of energy–much to the chagrin of his body. He didn’t want them to be revealed–yet.
Placing the arrow to the side, he grabbed his weapon and gave it a twirl. Glancing over the creature, he wasn't sure what was best for the bounty. Fingers, ears, hands, or trinkets was normally the go to. Those claws were looking a bit dangerous and he didn't want to accidently get infected. With the hands and fingers out, that only left the ear. Leaning over, he hooked the knife on the back and began to saw into the cartilage. It wasn't pleasant, but was necessary. After they pawned off the goods, they'd have to lay low for a while. A fight like this would be found in the morning and evidence was everywhere. Hell, they might have to break up as a group and start over. It was nigh impossible to do a class change and he really didn't want to work inside the big city. Maybe he'd get enough gold to carrying him for a bit till he found a new crew to join. But most of all he was a bit pissed at his boss.
He warned them not to attack the man. The load was light and didn't look like it had any value, not to mention it was only one driver. This world was filled with powerful people and it was a gamble to attack a loner. Either they were stupid and tried to save a few gold cutting bodyguards, or had some crazy level/skill to manage threats. While counter-intuitive, it was far better to attack grouped up caravans then a wandering cart. Those guys hired the bare minimum and were far more showy in strength then actually having it. But their leader wouldn't listen; with such a large size crew, they should have overwhelmed one driver. Sure a few might be lost or injured, but that was the life of a bandit. One day you swimming in riches, the next you are dining with Deas. He spit to the side in disgust. It didn’t matter now, the bulk were dead and he’d at least get a big payout from it.
As the last bits of flesh were cut through, he sheathed the dagger and gave it a tug. Dead flesh was far easier than living to break. With his prize in hand, he turned back towards the group.
“What the…” was all he could say before the zombie grabbed his leg and pulled.