Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Chapter 33: Amidst The Ruins



On his right, the other bald man Loimos had encountered before, he remained a bit further than the rest, seemingly trying to hide behind the larger man but also attempting not to make it too obvious that he was scared.

It was obvious.

The third man, the one on the left, was blessed with a head full of hair, unlike the other two who sported swords of questionable durability, he also enjoyed the joy of a ranged weapon in the form of a bow and a few arrows.

Loimos only counted five, five shots wasn’t a lot, especially when piercing damage was hardly effective against him.

Though he would probably be shooting in a straight line unlike the crossbow wielder from last time.

"Boss, I don’t think he’s going to respond…" the frightened one shook in his boots as he demonstrated his superior intelligence, or not.

"Listen you, you better answer or else, we’ll be breaking your legs" he nudged the man with the bow and the man understood that he was supposed to get ready to shoot, he got into position to send an arrow flying at any given time.

His target, the stomach, wasn’t lethal but would hurt and bleed like hell.

"..."

"Hum, perhaps this is one of Alizé’s hunting dogs?" the smaller bald one did in fact have a good head on his shoulders, for now.

"Alizé? By the ever-living gods! Those bitches think they can unleash their crap on our turf?!" the apparent leader of the group seethed, his bald head turning red as veins popped out.

"Come on man, don’t speak too loudly, the bitches can make us their bitches, I am not into getting beaten up by a woman, like, at all" the one with the bow turned his head to speak, as he gave his sentiment on the situation, Loimos fluidly ran off into a tight alley in between two ruined houses.

The three bandits were stunned for a second, the smoothness was simply too slick for them to register for a second.

"Do-" the scared rat of a man tried to speak up.

"Fuck it! Kill him!" the leader wasn’t about to let some weirdo in a mask slaughter his people, no matter how messed up they may be, no matter who had sent him, he couldn’t allow others to walk all over him, this place belonged to him!

His two collaborators weren’t thrilled by the concept of pursuing this creepy dude into the confusing ruins, but they still followed suit without hesitation.

Manoeuvring the overgrown alleys, which were filled with sharp pieces of wood and protruding rocks, both hidden under the tall grass wasn’t a simple affair, the three were used to them but chasing someone through them wasn’t the same deal as walking through.

"Damn, he’s fast…" the one with the bow panted, none of them could give chase for too long.

Loimos had no stamina to worry about and was constantly sprinting at full speed, so he lost them in no time.

"He surely has to stop and recuperate at some point, any clue where he went?" the boss and his two goons stepped into a small clearing, meaning a place where there were no ruins and only vegetation.

In the center of all that grass, an old well, pretty much intact unlike the rest, was standing tall, to the right of the clearing however, was the most surprising sight.

A large, glass window which most likely used to give customers sight upon wonders was now left completely dirty, but still somehow intact.

Amongst the plethora of ghost towns and deserted villages, this place was one that didn’t see many visitors, if at all.

It made no doubt that youngsters that came to challenge themselves here would have broken it for fun and giggles.

The well and that window were what attracted the gazes of the three, the boss carefully approached the well, imagining that the sack-headed man could be hiding inside, holding onto the sides.

The one with the bow put his hand on his sheathed dagger and carefully approached the window, it was quite the attractive place, perhaps their runaway had headed into this building.

As the rat-faced man, he had just stood there unable to decide what to do, simply deciding to keep an eye on his fellows’s backs.

He gasped as he heard some stepping with strength behind him, turning around with a jittery hold on his sword, he only a close-up on a rock as Loimos smashed it into his face as he ran past him.

The true danger the group posed was the big bald man, he struck the weakest of them before he could shout and rushed toward the boss, who soon realised that someone was coming from him.

He reflexively turned and blindly blocked with his blade, which was of no use, he had been too late, his attention hadn’t been on the right place.

Indeed, he had been looking down into the well, which wasn’t awfully deep but still gave him a bit of a scare, imagining himself falling head first down there.

He had been taken aback and forced into thinking as he noticed the machete Loimos had been holding before at the bottom of the well, the handle buried into the ground, the blade pointed upward.

’How the hell did he have the time to do that?’ the man could only wonder, of course, he was thinking as if Loimos was a person, maybe a bit psychotic, but a person nonetheless.

He couldn’t imagine that the undead had thrown himself down there and climbed back up like a nightmarish terror from the depth of darkness, those weren’t things people did.

The boss was simply too late and was tackled right into the well, plunging right toward the machete as Loimos was already running for his next target.


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