Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Gripped upon by agonising pain, as though fishing hooks had been embedded into the skin, winding right around nevers, and pulling, pulling without rest, just a bit, strongly, it changed every single seconds, impossible to ever get used to it, blinded by suffering, run they did, stumble forth, into trees, inadvertently getting caught by briar and roots, shredding their flesh, nails and bones breaking within the digits of their lowest limb, yet, when they failed to stand back up and move once more, failing to realise what had led them to drag their chests and belly upon the ground.

Pain was simply too fulgurant, overshadowing all else, those that fell behind the group never appeared again, their fate obvious, but not thought about, instead those that could go on, kept on running, legs aching, feet bloody, lungs strained, keeping up speed for so long led to many simply collapsing, joining the ranks of the lost.

Someone shouted a name, no response came, they stopped, it had been day moments ago, but now, it was like the penumbra was creeping upon all, and she was all alone, indeed, it seemed that a petite girl like herself had somehow managed to be the only one to keep on running so far, all of the other, had fallen, fainted, or perhaps, been caught up to.

Apart from her own rugged breathing and uncontrollably clacking teeth, silence and dark was all that reigned, this perfect repose, this solace-inducing environment felt malicious and dangerous, like it was only a lull before a predator pounced, herself had never experienced it, but stories had been told by hunters that had gotten lost during the night, the dark night, and never had a night felt so oppressively dark, no longer could she even discern her own hands.

Stepping back without thinking, heels catching onto a treacherous plant, destroying all sense of balance, throwing the girl backwards, grabbing the back of her head instinctively, it was unnecessary, all of the intense pain was washed away, replaced by the biting cold, but a freezing cold she knew, a danger she was knowledgeable of, this danger felt comforting, much less disturbing that the coiling dark, its serpentine nature was alien and filthy, anathema to her and the people of this land.

Gasping for air, the girl felt herself be swept further down, right and left, swinging her arms uselessly, it infiltrated, coating the mouth and throat, until finally, the powerful current spat her out onto a cold stone ground, jagged pebbles cutting in the skin, coughing up, feeling like she would suffocate for multiple seconds, feeling like minutes on end, dragging herself further from the edge of the cold, pushing drenched hair away, rising up to her knees, the dark was soothing, for she believed that nothing lurked within this one.

Bringing both hands together, skin and scales brushing against one another, shivering in the cold.
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"Oh… O glorious ancestor, I- We have never asked for anything, content with simply being allowed to exist by your grace… But please help us, those from the sea are here… They have come to eat us, devour what makes us into the beings we are…" her prayers called upon something, or someone, that did not respond, she doubted that it could even be heard, but there was always a point in trying, this was why they had all ran before the warriors of dark, even when knowing very well that there was nowhere to run to.

The islands had limits, beyond that, only the endless sea existed, all that would happen was that they would turn stone cold, bloated in the best of scenarios, escaping was meaningless, without purpose, only delaying the inevitable, or so reason dictated, but reason was not be made into an absolute ruler, mindless hope and instinct were similarly influential.

There was no point in giving reason a place when it called to give up your life, the girl silently prayed some more, and more, even as her body turned colder and colder, the humidity sapping the body heat little by little, eyes closed, surrounded by the monarchy of dark and silence, without any signs, a hand colder than even herself found its way upon her shoulder, freezing up, the hand tapped its index, feeling neither armoured, nor covered by fabric, skeletal, yet not feeling like bony.

"Fret not little lamb, I am not your enemy, an executioner or hold any sort of antagonistic thoughts toward you" speaking eloquently and with a kind tone, like that of a worried family member, an older sister that takes care of you in place of you absentee parents one might imagine, it was comforting, in spite of the most bizarre sensation that it was for a corpse-like hand to touch you.

"I am Alisiana, a missionary sent along this most glorious expedition, a crusade almost! Come, give me your hands, and let us commune in a most jolly fashion, to the most divine of all that was, is and will be, death! Yes… Death indeed!" the priestess grabbed the girl's hands.

"I do not know who you were praying to, but keep it for later, you know, when they are dead too, for that is the future of all that is, to be taken in the gentle embrace of death…" bopping the girl's nose and pinching her cheek like one would to a child, the missionary grabbed the soon-to-be-converted's face.

"You poor little lamb, life is naught but differentiation and barriers, fear, pain, discomfort, those are blights that naturally form upon an imperfect, unnatural way of being, in death we are eternal, in death we love, in death we are one… Come on, speak alongside me! In death we are eternal…"

"In- In death we love, in death we are one?" the priestess was silent, a clickety, ranging out as she ran one finger across her teeth.

"Oh you! You are afraid, that is not spoken with true intent, that is to be expected, for someone who threw themselves into such a cold lake, what exaggerated means! As though death is oh-so scary, don't you enjoy it when you finally reach the end of something arduous?

Swimming all this way to get to you was no problem to me, the cold, the warm, this does not mean much to us, what if I told you that you could remain just as you are now, but without hunger and all that brings displeasure? That would sound enticing, wouldn't it?"

The girl just faintly nodded, the priestess flicking her fingers, a soft light appearing above both, and so, the living screamed, gazing upon the comforting missionary's undead form, a full head of beautiful blonde hair, but sitting upon a skeletal visage, the clenched skin clinging close to the bone.

"No need to be so dramatic, I may not be the freshest in your eyes, but I am quite the looker otherwise! Now, let's start again, explain to me, why is it that you were praying, and to whom? Whoever, whatever… Divine Death would have already responded"

Locked underground with the horrific priestess, garbed in beautiful pale robes, her poise and movements all those of a refined young lady, but trapped in a horrid vessel, it was the living's fate to endure the sermons.