30 Days Of Undead Summer

Horror in Houghton

#MadDashMonday

I ran as fast as my legs could. From the horrors that had befallen the once great town of Houghton. Past the taller houses of packed brick and wooden beams with doors gaping open as though they too were horrified. Past their tiny upturned gardens leading onto the wide cobblestone ground.

To think it was once a place of beauty and tranquillity where I had frolicked in the stone fountains with the other children. Where we had pretended to be Rebels against the Empire on the gilded grass leading into the forest of pine. Where I once sat leaning against Master Silva on the wooden benches as we fed the birds.

Now as dusk began to descend, the beauty of Houghton had transformed into a place of despair. The horses that lived whinnied against their poles while their deceased counterparts made guttural calls to the night sky. Screams filled the air between groans and grunts. Now smoke rose from distant dwellings where woodstoves were neglected or perhaps knocked over.

Hopefully, a fire would soon consume all.

How could Master Silva be willing to cause so much death and chaos. What were his intentions? What did he hope to achieve? How could all this fear, and pain, and hurt lead humanity to salvation?

How could I know when I was merely his creation, much like the plague that now travelled across the plains and meadows and hills on horseback. The nobles as manifestations of death. Horsemen of the apocalypse, as the Holy Men of Sanctity would no doubt call them.

And all from a single vial I had kept within my own body. A body I had once thought human despite Master Silva's insistence that I was greater. The body that, on occasion, ticked quietly alongside Master' Silva's chronometer, marking out the seconds and minutes and hours.

The same body that released the damning potion into the King's River.

Great Gods, what have I done!

The horde continued to follow me as they followed those still unfortunate enough to live. Devouring others as they sought to devour me. From the corner of my vision I saw a familiar young girl attempting to crawl from the wooden doors of a cellar. Her upper body dangled to the surface. Blood poured from her face in rivulets. Her eyes wide and fearful and when they spotted me widened into hope. I took a single glace backwards, sighing with relief at the distance I had procured.

"Please!" The girl cried, tears trailing through the blood.

I reached down to help her when she screamed. From below, a woman had grabbed the girls leg.

"Pull me! Pull me! Mother wants to eat me! I don't want to be eaten! Please!"

I pulled and pulled and pulled. She screamed again in pain and horror. The woman had taken a bite of the girl's calf and oh Great Gods have mercy on me I let her go.

Never shall I forget her face as she plunged down. The face of betrayal. Of hopelessness.

I ran. Oh how I ran. How I cried. How I beat against my breast. Master Silva, where are you now that I need you most.