Stench from the South Pt. 02

"Mattison! MATTISON! Come on, let's go! Get out of there!"

Balthus could see that, despite the mages' combined efforts, many of the zombies were still upright and bearing down upon them, undeterred by the wild and powerful magicks engulfing them and their brethren. Their moans, howls, and snarls were now mingling with the crackling and popping sounds of flesh being charred and scorched, the stench combining with that of decomposition to create an absolutely foul miasma that tormented the nostrils. As Balthus and Jakobus were nearly sent reeling by this sensation, the Captain bellowed again, as Mattison was still fighting the oncoming wave of the dead.

"Mattison! MATTISON, COME ON! STOP FUCKING AROUND!"

The assistant glanced back at him, then back at the oncoming horde before hurling one more fireball directly into an oncoming bunch of four. Now, Balthus did see the figure stumble out of the gap between the inn and the house next door and lunge toward the young vampire, but by the time he did, it was too late for him to even properly warn him, let alone intervene-though that did not stop him from trying.

"MATTISON-!"

It was a middle-aged man-or, rather, that was who it once been-balding, rail thin, with deep-set eyes and prominent cheekbones. He wore only a pair of cutoff trousers which were covered in filth and brown stains, which Balthus knew could only have been caused by blood. His gut had been torn open, the massive open wound doing nothing to impede his advance as his bent, snarled fingers shot toward Mattison's face and neck. They found their mark, and the Mage's assistant immediately tried to pull away, but to no avail-it had a death grip on his hair and his travel cloak, and it was not about to let go. Balthus leapt forward to intercept, sword flashing, but the zombie had already closed the gap. Its' head shot forward, and the stained teeth within its' filthy maw sank into the flesh between the assistant's neck and jawline.

Mattison, caught in the grip of the zombie, could only bellow in rage and agony to the gray, gloomy, and utterly indifferent Nocturnal sky above.

*****

You know, the thing about cliffhangers is that they might be infuriating for you, the audience, but for me? They're an absolute joy for me. Sorry, but them's the facts.

How'll this work out? What will happen to Mattison? Will the group make it out of Stonecairn Hollow in one piece? Is there any hope of reaching Grayspire? Does anyone appreciate the fact that I created my own etymology for the word 'zombie'? Does anyone also appreciate how I'm actually calling them 'zombies' and not something fucking stupid like everyone else always seems to insist on doing? I hope so.

Stay tuned for the next one, y'all. Part III in the pipeline, plus a brief lil' Tales of Ralleah oneshot that'll be way heavier on the sex and a whole lot lighter on the brutal violence and misery. You're welcome.

-OOM