We Are: Waking The Fallen

The Final Chapter: We Are: Waking the Fallen

This final part takes place in a time much closer to your own, perhaps either ahead or behind. But that is for you to believe. For I am ahead and behind your timeline. For I can see all that is to happen, and all that isn't.

It was dark, so, so painfully dark. 

Figures with skin as white as bone, tattooed with  colours no lighter than the darkest black, and with no mouths, simply voids. They had no eyes, no voices, no life. There were hundred of them.

But one stood taller than the rest; War.

War walked forwards, into the center of the room they stood, towards a throne shrouded in a fathomless, monolithic shadow. 

The shadows shifting and parted, and a being with skin whiter than skeletal throne they sat upon, and long, limp hair that was blacker than the shadows that surrounded them. Bandages covered their head, as well as their entire body. They were skinny, but they were human, in shape, anyway. 

The floor around the throne of bones had a large, seemingly infinite spiral.

"Master," War bowed. "Another was has commenced." The figure replied, but the words were mangled and twisted. No sense could be made from the gibberish. Yet War bowed once more. "Yes, My Lord Spiral." The mummified figure stood, or, more of, hovered, their feet not touching the floor as they moved forwards. A great tremor shook the floor, and the soul collectors began to follow their ruler.

Yes, that is I. I was human once too, but I was alone, created by an anomaly, and so I took charge, and began to create from my throne in the world of the dead...

The figure stopped in a large room, a man chained to a wall but shackles that raised his arms high above his head. The chained man spat, and began to struggle.

The mummified figure began to speak, their voice harsh and still incoherent. The man screamed, and War stepped forwards. But a slow wave of the figure stopped War in his tracks. "I hate your kind..." The man growled and the figure laughed, a brutal, heartless sound. 

"Oh, but I am a human~" The figure said, still laughing, their words understandable for the first time, The man fell silent, and the figure continued speaking in their garbled language. 

This time they did not stop War as he walked forwards.

The man screamed once more, and his skin began to change. The spiral tattoos on each of the cloaked figures began to move, wrapping around both their ruler and the man.

The spiral tattoos twisted and constricted, and the two figures they wrapped around dropped, seemingly dead.

Patience. The reasons for this final act will come to light soon.

Then the man stirred. The figure on the floor did not move, but the man stood, the shackles shattered.

His skin was sickly grey and his eyes were empty. He had pointed teeth and one of his arms hung loose, hanging towards his knees. He leaned forwards, like he carried a heavy weight. "Hungry...." He groaned, his voice low and gravelly. 

War nodded and waved his hands. The New Undead began to rise, higher and high, until he vanished from site.

He had entered the world, and the new plague was about to begin.

The bandaged figure with lng, limp hair and so painfully skinny, began to stand, resuming their position on the floor.

War looked at the figure and smiled. "We will destroy the humans you created, my Lord. Our new Undead will mark the end of their lives. The time for destruction will commence!"