Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The ruined mansion stood against the night, its twisted iron gates yawning open as if inviting them in. Beyond its crumbling walls, flickering lights glowed from shattered windows, casting long shadows on the overgrown courtyard.

Mira hesitated at the entrance, gripping the cursed book tightly. It burned against her palm like a living thing. Draven stood beside her, shotgun ready, while Elias Grimm took a slow sip from his flask, unbothered by the dread seeping from the house.

"You feel that?" Draven muttered.

Elias nodded. "Yeah. House has a heartbeat."

The wind howled through the hollow remains of the building. The dead air carried whispers, voices of things long gone—or things that never truly left.

Mira stepped forward. "We need to move."

They pushed through the gate, boots crunching on dried leaves and brittle bones. The house loomed taller as they approached, the moonlight warping its shape, making it seem to shift and breathe.

Elias ran a hand along the rotting doorframe and smirked. "I love a good haunted house."

The door creaked open on its own.

Draven raised his shotgun. "And I hate them."

Inside, the air was thick with decay and candle wax. The grand hallway stretched into darkness, its walls lined with portraits of people with hollow, watching eyes.

Then came the laughter—soft, childlike.

Mira's grip on the book tightened. "We're not alone."

A figure emerged at the top of the grand staircase. A small girl in a tattered white dress, her face obscured by long, matted hair. The Forsaken Girl.

Her bare feet hovered an inch above the floor, and her head tilted as if she were listening to something only she could hear.

"You brought it," she whispered.

Mira stepped forward. "Brought what?"

The girl lifted a frail hand, pointing directly at the cursed book in Mira's grasp.

Before Mira could react, the shadows burst to life, twisting into skeletal limbs that lunged toward them.

"Move!" Draven fired his shotgun, the blast tearing through the darkness—but the shadows reformed instantly.

Elias tossed a flask into the air. With a snap of his fingers, it ignited, sending blue flames across the walls. The shadows screeched, recoiling from the light.

The Forsaken Girl did not flinch.

"You shouldn't be here," she whispered, her voice echoing unnaturally.

The house shuddered, the walls cracking open like a rotting corpse.

The whispers grew louder.

And then—the Rotting King's voice filled the mansion.

"Bring them to me."

The Forsaken Girl smiled.

And the darkness swallowed them whole.