The Dawn of Malice

An Army

Here stood the army that was waiting for him, standing upon the piles of rubble and soot, the needless dead milled about waiting for their vengeance picking what sharp wood or metal poles they could find amongst the rubble of the building.

"But how?" Caerus said while his eyes darted across the now horrifying scene.

"Laresians like us have certain specific traits. Powers that are unique to certain individuals. I happen to have powers likened to necromancy."

Caerus's eyes grew in surprise which slowly morphed into disgust and anger. "These people are dead! They at least deserve to rest."

Lucian glared at Caerus. "And what about the living Caerus? Is now the time to debate about the morality of my deeds? Or is it the time to protect their living relatives?" Lucian began to shout, "They may rest easier when their family is safe from this coming catastrophe. They will gladly stand firm and fight the enemy, all I'm doing is allowing them to fight for their mothers, their fathers, siblings, and loved ones that still live and breathe." Lucian placed a hand on Caerus's shoulder.

"If you were given the same choice they are about to be given, wouldn't you choose to live another day to ensure the safety of the people most important to you?"

Caerus went pale with the morbid thought. He knew that he would.

"How long must they suffer like this?"

"They're not suffering," Lucian said. "Their bodies are numb, and their minds are addled. They will follow any command I give them, and they do have free will to a certain extent."

"How long will they be like this?" Caerus said in frustration.

"Depends on how our plans align with the situation we're in." Lucian said, "It might be possible to use a few of these bodies but I doubt they'll be of much use. Look around. That man there is lacking a right arm."

Sure enough, as Caerus looked around him, he could see that a great number of the dead around them walked with limps while several of them lacked certain appendages. A few of them looked at Caerus as they milled about. Their glazed eyes frightened Caerus as if a small fire of a soul was screaming for help. At this moment, Caerus snapped.

"Let them go, Lucian!" Caerus begged as he lunged at the older man grabbing at his collar. Lucian knew this would happen, but he let Caerus grab him. "I know I would fight but they deserve to rest Lucian! We have no right to use them like this. If their families saw us, what do you think they would say? This is exactly why you Laresians are called demons!"

Lucian stared at the young man, the hand clutching his collar trembled with rage. "First of all," Lucian began, "YOU and I are Laresians" Lucian slapped Caerus' hand away. "Second, take a better look at them." Lucian reached out with both hands and grabbed Caerus's face twisting his head toward the dead. For a moment, Caerus thought that Lucian would throw him to the ground headfirst. It took a moment for Caerus to notice what Lucian had meant.

All the undead men and women stopped their work. They stared at Caerus. Their eyes filled with a fire Caerus didn't think he would see. They wanted to fight. No. They needed to fight. As Caerus viewed them, they slowly made their way around the two Laresians gawking at them. As if to say something to them both. It was then that the injured man whose corpse lacked an arm stumbled to the front. Caerus saw a glint of metal from the man's other hand but could not see it. Then Caerus heard it. A guttural sound from the man's mangled throat, the words sent chills down his spine.

"As we are, so shall you be." The man said. "Give us a chance to prevent that from coming too early for our loved ones."

A low cacophony of mangled guttural voices echoed their approval. Caerus was left speechless.