The light flickered. All livings froze. There was a moment of lull. Did it last for less than a second, or did an eternity pass? None could tell. The lights dimmed. All livings felt their vision go darker, as though the hands of shadow covered their eyes. The man at the forefront, closest to the window of the lighthouse, closest to the barrier, closest to the undead–He heard his fellows drop to the ground one by one. Not loudly, it was as though they had been overtaken by a wave of fatigue and had lowered themselves to sleep directly upon the floor.
He was spared from this phenomenon, but his eyes remained locked upon the undead. The corpse was still standing here, unmoving, simply staring back as the light weakened by the second. The living found himself incapable of blinking–No, he could if he tried, but every bone, every ligament, and every drop of blood screamed not to lose sight of the undead.
'I need to sound the alarm'
