Grag looked around the village. Goblins always lived in fear. The master’s presence though, brought a fear that Grag had never seen among his kin before.

After the battle the new master went through all of the village’s belongings to see if there was anything he wanted to keep for himself. This didn’t upset any of the goblins. They were used to such things after battles.

It was the undead that frightened everyone.

Undead soldiers marched among the buildings monitoring the remaining goblins. Paul had told them that no one was to leave the village.

Grag watched as one of the goblins that was raised walked by. He was unsure about how he should feel about it.

The other goblins also watched the raised goblins. Grag could see some of the women with tears in their eyes and runny noses.

The men however had clenched jaws and fists. If they still had their weapons, Grag didn’t know if they would attack the living dead to just get rid of the abominations.

They made Grag’s skin crawl and spine tingle, but he wasn’t going to do anything about them. He knew if he tried, he would die, then be raised along with them. The others must have known also, because they just watched.

Some of the others looked over at Grag. Some had angry accusing eyes and some had fear. It was the master’s fault. He had praised Grag publicly before going into Throk’s hut.

Grag looked away and kept his head down as he made his way to Throk’s hut.

The hut’s entrance had six skeletons stationed around it. They were all equipped with spears.

Grag could feel them looking at him, even though they hadn’t moved. He looked away from their empty skells.

“Master?” He called out.

Grag tried to peer inside the hut.

“Master, it’s Grag?” He called out again.

“Enter.” Came a voice from inside.

Keeping his head down he quickly made his way past the guards.

Once inside Grag was unsure if he should feel any better. Two zombies were in the back of the hut placing a rather large looking chair down.

The master stood tall, his long orange-reddish hair was tied back into a pony tail that went down between his shoulder blades. He had a short beard of the same color. The color of his hair and beard contrasted sharply with his pale white skin with blue veins making a web across his flesh. When the master turned his red glowing eyes on Grag, he was without a doubt his new master was one a demon.

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Grag swallowed and shifted under the master’s gaze.

“Uh, Liora said you wanted to talk to me.” Grag said.

“Yes. I’ve decided I like that we came to our deal.” The master said. “From now on you will act as my representative to the goblins in the village. You will keep them in line and decide who is to be my meal and when.”

Grag’s breath sped up a bid and he felt a little light headed. “What will you do when you run out of goblins to eat?”

The master snorted. “Don’t worry, I won’t eat you.” He looked back at the zombies. “Leave it there.”

The zombie put the chair down. “Leave.”

As the zombies left the master sat in his chair. He sat comfortably in the chair and leaned onto one arm. “As for the others. I figure I can make them last a month. So, I have a month to figure out what to do next.” He tilted his head a bit. “Don’t worry, I will bring you with me. Can’t leave you alone and weak in the forest.”

Grag had no doubt he was now a slave to the master. He was also sure the master thought Grab was honored to be his slave.

He wouldn’t complain to the master about it. Doing so might get him killed. He was also sure that being the master’s slave was better than being one of his meals.

“Go.” The master waved him off. “I have eaten tonight, but I will be hungry again tomorrow. Have my meal ready. There are ten skeletons outside and to the left if you need them to act as your muscle.”

Grab nodded his understanding and quickly left Throk’s, no, the master’s, hut.

Once outside he found the skeletons the master had spoken of. He gave them a couple of test commands. They obeyed him quickly. He was surprised with how easy it was.

Grag made his way to the longhouse to sleep. At the entrance Throk got in his way.

“You’re not allowed to be here.” Throk snarled.

“Why not?” Grag asked. “I have slept here my entire life.”

Others gathered around. Grag was starting to feel a little claustrophobic with the crowd getting so large.

“I told you before. You are useless and the village is better without you.” Throk bumped his chest into Grag. “That thing being here changes nothing. Plus, there are rumors its only here because of you.”

Some of the others started to whisper about what they thought about Grag and his connection to the master.

“I’m tired and going to be.” Grag said through gritted teeth.

“Over my dead body.” Throk shoved Grag hard enough to knock him over. “You too weak to be one of us.”

Grag glared at Throk. He got up and wanted to hit Throk back, but he knew he would lose that fight. The anger left him with a giant sigh and he turned to leave. Head down and shoulders slunched he trudged away.

Something slime smacked Grag in the back. He turned to see the others laughing at him as Throk held a wad of mud in his hand. He threw another handful and it hit Grag in the face.

Snickers and laughter filled the air. Grag had thought they were as crestfallen as he was that the master was here, but apparently not.

Trying not to cry, Grag moved away from the longhouse with a little more speed.

“Don’t come back.” Throk said.

Grag made it to the chicken coop before sitting down. He pounded his fists into the ground as he held back a scream. He wouldn’t let Throk win by hearing him break down.

Taking a deep breath, Grag put his head on his knees. He could he loud crunching and was afraid some of the others had followed him. Looking up, he saw it was simply a zombie patrol.

A smile crossed his lips as he started to laugh himself.

He knew there were those he didn’t want the master to eat, but now he knew who would be first.