A human corpse sizzled in the open flame, which danced magnificently against the dark night sky.
The body was tied to a stick that overhung a firepit, propped up by two metal poles plunged into the ground. It was being roasted like a pig, its flesh seared and its skin burnt to a light crisp.
The man's eyes had a look of sheer horror, his hands and feet bound and his mouth gagged. Had he been grilled alive? Who was this man?
The pungent smell of burnt flesh filled Jack's senses as he gathered at the edge of the roaring fire with his horde. They hungered to feast on this readied meal. The Crave urged them on.
Yet the flames held them back. The fire roared, filling the air with the aromatic scent of cooked flesh. It was as if this pre-cooked meal was designed to draw them in. But what were they to do now?
One zombie jumped into the fire, grasping at the burnt body even while his own was burning. He managed to take two bites out of the man's legs before others followed. Three, then four, and finally a dozen zombies jumped into the fire, their ragged clothes turning them into walking torches.
Jack resisted the urge. The Crave pulsated through his decomposing limbs but he fought. It took every fiber in his being to resist. His muscles clenched and his jaw tightened. His glowing yellow eyes grew brighter.
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The Crave was strong but it was not rational. It had to be controlled, mastered. Few zombies understood this, they simply gave full sway to their impulses. Their bodies falling apart, they had no reason to live aside from the Crave, so they relented. Slaves to the mind-controlling urge that pushed them closer and closer to oblivion.
Not Jack. He was a fighter. And in this case, he knew something was wrong. Very wrong.
The first zombie who had jumped into the fire collapsed, his legs burnt to ashen heaps. Then the second.
Rot and ruin, they were like moths to a flame.
More zombies wanted to jump in but Jack held out his arms, urging them backward. "Away," he said. Jack had painstakingly managed to cling to some amount of sentience. More than most. "Danger."
They hesitated, then most pulled back. Most of the zombies understood that the fire meant annihilation and watched from the sidelines. Just like they wouldn't jump off a cliff, they wouldn't jump into the fire. Now that they understood what fire was.
But Jack was still not satisfied, his head tilting to one side. He peered around at the trees surrounding the firepit. Who would roast one of their own kind in a manner so cruel and unusual, and then leave?
It could only be -
Jack's supernatural sight picked up the slightest rustle of leaves in the forest surrounding him. He instinctively knew what was going on.
It was a trap.
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