Chaos erupted in the workers' village as if the very gates of hell had burst open at once. Corpses of the dead began tearing faces apart and ripping open stomachs, their shrieks echoing through every corner, bouncing between the huts and the stony walls of the great cavern. Wherever people ran, the dead followed—surrounding, attacking, emerging in countless numbers from the very walls of the buried earth, wild and starving, as though they had not tasted flesh for hundreds of years.
Those who still held a sword swung it wildly in every direction, cutting down anything that drew near. The village guards fought bravely to protect the townsfolk, but the swarm was overwhelming—far beyond their power to contain. With every passing moment, another guard fell, his body dragged between the teeth of the risen dead, only to rise again moments later and turn his blade upon his own comrades.
The infection spread with terrifying speed; anyone bitten or scratched began to convulse, then opened their eyes to a new darkness—attacking those they had loved only seconds before. A mother's scream turned into a beast's growl, a child's arm was torn away by the jaws of the woman who had once held him in her arms.
The people fled toward the village walls, but terror awaited both inside and out. The dead were already waiting beyond the gates, and the darkness deepened as flames consumed the huts. The entire village was ablaze—fire devouring wood and flesh alike—while the cavern's stone ceiling above rained down sparks like embers from the abyss.
The sound of horror merged with the roars of the creatures, until it seemed that the buried earth itself was crying out with its people—screaming in pain, in fury, and in repentance for a sin it could no longer bear to keep buried.
.....
In the darkness beneath a dilapidated hut, Tavin sat struggling to catch his breath. The air was thick, heavy with the smell of earth, dampness, and old blood. Beside him, Evelia curled her knees to her chest, her face hidden between her arms. The sounds from outside had not ceased for hours — screams erupting then dying down, followed by strange grinding noises, as if something was devouring something else.
Evelia's voice trembled, barely audible: "Do you think they're all dead?"Tavin said nothing, listening intently, trying to distinguish the sounds of the living from the dead. Finally, he whispered: "I don't know… but what's out there isn't alive, and it isn't truly dead either."
At that moment, they heard footsteps above them — heavy, hesitant, cracking against the wooden floor. They exchanged terrified glances, each grasping the other's hand without thinking. The sound drew closer, then fell silent.Tavin hoped it was a guard, but he dared not move. Fear betrayed him anyway; a low, trembling sigh escaped him, barely audible, but enough.
Above them, something moved. The sound of a lock turning echoed, then the wooden door slowly creaked open, spilling dim light from the fire outside like a false dawn.
A familiar face appeared, smeared with ash, sweat, and blood. The man's voice was weary: "It's me… the chief of the workers. We need to move now."Tavin lifted his head. Deep cuts marred the chief's face, but his eyes were steady — the eyes of a man who had faced death too often to fear it anymore.
hey emerged from the cellar. Outside, the village was ablaze. Smoke choked the rooftops, the air smelled like a rotting corpse. The dead wandered the streets slowly, while some ran madly toward any sound. A woman screamed as she was dragged by her hair toward the fire. A small child ran, then fell, his scream swallowed by a lipless mouth.
The chief panted, pointing: "There's a tunnel under the command hut. An old passage built for escaping invaders… if we reach it, we'll survive."Tavin nodded, picked up a small stone, and threw it. The sound drew the hordes, leaving a path for them. The three slipped through the alleys, hiding behind crumbling walls, avoiding the torn faces that opened their eyes anew. Every step was heavy. Evelia clutched her brother's hand, the chief leaned on his sword as if walking on an open wound.
When they reached the large hut, the door was locked tight. The chief pulled out his key, hands trembling. Before he could turn it, a sharp scream pierced the air. One of the dead had spotted them. In an instant, dozens of corpses lunged toward them, dragging feet across the floor, growling like beasts.
The chief opened the door quickly, pushed Tavin and his sister inside, and slammed it shut. The pounding began immediately. The dead beat on the wood with hands and bones, snapping fingers. Tavin helped the chief move a heavy hatch covering an underground passage."Down… quickly!" the chief ordered as he opened the way.
They descended one by one into darkness. The door closed behind them, and the chief's voice echoed in Tavin's ears:"Always down, boy… for above is now hell."
The darkness swallowed the narrow passage. The air was suffocating, heavy as if the earth itself exhaled the breath of the dead. The chief held his torch high; its flickering flame cast shadows on the stone walls like spying spirits. The tunnel stretched ahead, long and winding like the intestines of the buried world, seemingly endless.
"This passage will lead us out of the village, to a safe distance," the chief said quietly. "We'll be fine if those things don't catch us."
Tavin didn't answer. His breaths mingled with Evelia's, clinging to his coat in fear. He tried to appear strong, but his hand shook. After a tense silence, the chief said:"We need to reach the nearest village and warn them. The disaster hasn't truly begun… what we've seen is just the beginning."
Evelia whispered, afraid to wake the walls themselves:"Where did those creatures come from?"
The chief sighed cautiously:"No one knows. But I think… they came from the walls. Years ago, our villages placed the dead in rock cavities instead of burying them in soil. Maybe they awakened in a way we can't understand… or maybe they never truly died."
A heavy silence followed, broken only by the slow drip of water from the cave ceiling, like faint heartbeats. Suddenly, a sound emerged ahead — faint at first, then growing: the rustle of armor, footsteps unnatural. The chief raised the torch, revealing a horrifying figure: a stiff human corpse in Baranis miners' armor, face smeared with ash and blood, eyes glowing embers in the darkness.
"Get back!" the chief shouted as the corpse lunged violently toward them.The torch slipped from his grip, its flame flickering wildly, casting frantic shadows across the stone walls. The chief shoved against the corpse, but it was unnervingly strong, like a living boulder. Tavin grabbed it by the shoulders, yanking it back, but the body twisted violently, its jaws snapping just past Evelia.
She screamed, blood trickling down as she stumbled to the floor.
The chief struck decisively again, driving his sword deep into the corpse's neck. The body shuddered violently before going completely still.
Tavin rushed to his sister, wrapping her trembling arm with a strip of his shirt. Her skin was pale, but her eyes remained sharp and alert."You'll be fine… I promise," he murmured, worry etched on his face.
The chief stood silently, his eyes fixed on the fallen corpse. He noticed the bite mark on its arm — blackened, venomous with the taint of undeath. He glanced at his own wounded arm, then down at the ground, saying nothing, his expression unreadable.
He picked up the torch and rasped:"We must keep moving… we can't stop now."
They continued, leaving blood trails across the stone. After a long distance, faint light threaded through a small opening at the tunnel's end.
"That's the exit… but I don't know what world awaits us beyond it — the living… or the dead," the chief murmured, hoarse, a mixture of hope and warning in his voice.