Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The chamber quaked as the dead battered the tower's door below, their fists a relentless drumbeat of hunger. Each strike echoed up the spiral stairs, shaking loose flakes of stone.

Damien stood frozen, the flare hissing low in his hand, its light battling the crimson glow of the runes. Zara's eyes darted between him and the Keeper, panic swelling in her chest.

"Damien," she whispered. "We can't trust him."

The Keeper's voice was steady, carrying the weight of centuries. "You cannot trust the dead either. But without them, this world will drown in blood. Already, the bindings fray. The beasts remember. They hunger."

As if summoned, the pterosaur shrieked overhead, swooping past the tower's jagged roof. Its wings sent a gust of icy wind spiraling into the chamber. Below, the roar of the Tyrannosaur cracked like thunder, shaking the ground.

Zara clutched Damien's sleeve. "This is madness. How do we know he isn't one of them?"

The Keeper lifted his hood fully. His skin was pale, but human—wrinkled, lined with age. His eyes, though hollowed by sleeplessness, glimmered with a strange fire. "I am not dead," he said. "I am the last sentinel. My task is to keep the bindings intact. Alone, I falter. With you, there is hope."

The pounding below grew frantic—splintering wood, snapping hinges. The dead were seconds away.

Damien's knuckles whitened around the axe. "If what you're saying is true, then why do the dead tear us apart every chance they get?"

The Keeper stepped closer, the runes burning brighter with each word. "Because you resist. To them, you are raw flame. They would smother you before you burn too brightly. But if you yield… if you guide their hunger toward purpose… they will obey."

Zara recoiled. "Obey? You want us to control them?"

"Not control," the Keeper corrected softly. "Bind. As they are bound to the old ones, so too can they be bound to you. Through blood, through will."

The door below shattered. A wave of moans poured up the stairs, the scrape of bone and claw echoing closer.

Damien's heart hammered. The Keeper extended his hand, glowing brighter now, as though the tower itself pulsed through his veins.

"Choose. Take my hand, accept the burden, and the dead will serve your cause. Or refuse… and face tooth and claw until the end."

Zara's breathing quickened. "Don't. Damien, don't touch him!"

The first corpses reached the top of the stairs, spilling into the chamber—dozens of them, eyes hollow, jaws snapping. Their hunger filled the air like rot.

Damien swung the axe, cleaving one apart, but three more surged forward.

The Keeper's voice rose above the chaos. "The choice is now!"

Zara grabbed Damien's arm, pleading. "We can fight them. Please—we don't need his curse."

The dead pressed closer, the roar of monsters shaking the night outside.

Damien's chest heaved, his gaze locked on the Keeper's burning hand.

Between Zara's desperate grip and the Keeper's outstretched palm, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.

And Damien—trapped between two dooms—stepped forward.