*spark BURRRRN*

*FIZZZ*

An old man in  his 50th stand tall in the middle of the deafening silence of the tombs surrounds him.

In the comfort of a robe,a mace and a buckler

A well combed hair.

Pitch black the night will envy.

His age marked in every corner his face.

Yet in his determined eyes.

His life screams as if it has just begun.

In this very moment.

Gripping the old.yet well kept lamp.

That burns the dark embrace of the night.

He stare eye to eye.

To death himself.

His foe.

His friend.

His love.

Tightining the grip of his mace.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

That gleams in the beatifully dancing flame of the lamp he wields.

Brighter then any stars above.

His very pressence in the bed of death.

Demands its audience.

In the face that embodies everything he lost.

When he is at his weakest.

The young man now stand mighty.

With a shriveled form.

With a wrinkled face.

To take back his lover,his wife his life.

From the cold prison of whatever this abomination of ice and corpse supposedly be.

As he threw his lamp.

To the floor.

The flames scatter and spread.

Pushing back the offensive night sky in its dark embrace.

the grasses.

The tombs.

The corpses he intends to join later.

In the sea of flames.

The old fool made his stance.

Throwing his sanity along his buckler away.

Two hands grips the innocent mace.

With a force that even death cant fathom make loose.

He charged front.

The abomination of ice and corpses.

As it stand tall as the flames that dance in the wilted trees.

Showing no hesitation as the creature flung a limb made of ice and corpses.

The sweet scent of rot and decay fills the air.

He swiftly dodge with power and dignity.

As he return the deadly blow with his own.

Smashing a limb of corpses made of 10 humans.

The accursed humongous creature unfaze.

Kicks its icey legs.

 A cloud of dust emerge and blankets the field from its waist below.

Submerge in the the sea of dust and smoke his breathe is his last of concerns for the undead do not need eyes to kept any living in sight.

Sight unreliable.

Scent filled with rot and decay.

Strength that wont ever supass human levels.

But theres one thing that wont betray his foolish wish.

For justice.

For revenge.

For his wife.

For his life.

For himself.

Lady luck trully is a fool to love a fool who will blindly give that love back.

The abomination lift its other arm to banish this pest.

The man clearly no longer sane prepares to return the attack.

The stars watching above.

The flames dancing all over

The fool.

The creature.

Is the only witness of this event.

-you died-