Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The manor howled as if the walls themselves were in agony. Draven and Mira clutched their heads as the air rippled, distorting like shattered glass. The creature looming over them let out a guttural shriek, its shifting faces convulsing violently.

The name Mira had spoken was not meant for mortal tongues.

The shadows recoiled, swirling into grotesque forms—half-decayed figures with hollow eyes and clawed fingers, whispering in an ancient, cursed dialect. The walls cracked, revealing a chasm of writhing souls beyond. The library books burst into flames, their ink turning to black smoke.

"Mira, what did you say?" Draven demanded, voice strained.

Mira's lips trembled. She hadn't just spoken a name—she had summoned something.

Footsteps echoed from the darkness. Slow. Heavy. Purposeful.

Then, he emerged.

A tall figure cloaked in tattered black robes, his face obscured by a silver mask etched with cryptic runes. The very air around him warped, distorting time and space. His presence was suffocating, the weight of endless suffering pressing into their bones.

The whispers turned to wails. The manor itself quivered in fear.

"The Forsaken One…" Mira's voice was barely above a whisper.

Draven tightened his grip on his shotgun, but deep down, he knew it was useless.

The robed figure raised a skeletal hand. Instantly, the shadows froze. The writhing spirits let out one final, agonized cry before being ripped from existence.

Then, silence.

Draven and Mira stood motionless as the figure turned its masked gaze toward them. When he spoke, his voice was like a thousand voices layered atop one another.

"You have disturbed the Veil."

Mira swallowed hard. "We didn't mean to—"

The Forsaken One tilted his head slightly. "And yet, you did."

Draven took a cautious step forward. "What are you?"

"I am the name forgotten, the price unpaid. You stand in a house of sins long buried, and now the debt must be settled."

The floor beneath them shifted. The manor was unraveling, its foundation rotting into an abyss. Mira flipped through the cursed book in her hands, searching desperately for something—anything—that could save them.

"There has to be a way out!" she gasped.

The Forsaken One stepped closer. The walls shrank inward. The darkness curled around them like a living entity, waiting to consume.

Draven gritted his teeth. If they didn't act fast, they'd become just another forgotten story within these cursed halls.

Then, Mira's eyes widened as she found the final passage.

"Only the marked may leave. To be marked is to be claimed. To be claimed is to be bound."

She looked at Draven, horror dawning. "One of us… has to stay."

The Forsaken One extended a hand. "Choose."

The walls crumbled. The abyss yawned open.

And the decision had to be made.