World Of Fear

[MyLittleHellhound]

Hey guys, well this is my third story out now, set in Medieval Europe I guess!

The quiet village in the rolling hills of Central Europe was a peaceful place. Yet to be disturbed by war, the villagers were relatively quiet and kept to their own community. No one had a single care for what the rest of the world was doing; their agenda consisted of feeding the animals, making things to eat, and repairing broken tools.

“Simon! Simon!” a young girl called. She was a pretty thing, long brunette hair and a slim build. Simon pushed open one of the flaps of his family’s humble abode.

“Oi Alice! What you doin’ calling me! It’s so early!” Simon replied, eyes still bleary with sleep.

“I found something Simon! It….it…just come see for yourself!” she told him. Alice skipped down the dirt road that led out into the rocky hills. Simon sighed, and put on some boots.

“Hey! Wait up there Alice!” he shouted. His voice carried through the early morning air.

*BAM* the shutters of a neighboring house flew open. An old village storyteller, Old Pete they called him, squinted around, searching for the voice that had awoken him from a dream about money.

“Simon! Why don’t you shut that trap of yours and let the village get some sleep!” he roared.

Simon cringed, “Sorry!” He sprinted after Alice, towards the rocky foothills, leaving the angered man belting insults from his vast array of vocab.

The light wind carried the scent of pollen and spring. Simon bounded up a large hill, shielding his eyes from the rising sun. He saw Alice, beckoning about 30 meters away. He grinned, and picked his way through the scattered stones. Some in the village said that the gods had built large cities of stone, only to have them torn and knocked and scattered all over the place. Such was one.

“Simon, why do you take soooooo long!?” she whined.

Still panting, Simon replied, “Well, you’re the one who didn’t wait for me, and……” he paused again, “so what did you want to show me so eagerly?”

Alice smiled, and walked into a cave opening, or so it seemed. “Wait….” Simon tried to tell her. He jumped down to the opening and tried to peer inside. No light was showing, it looked almost pitch black. The outlines of the walls were barely there. He sighed, and crept in. The cave swallowed him up, shielding all light and sound within its borders. He could hear his own breathing, loud in the darkness. Alice’s high

pitched laughter echoed ominously through the labyrinth.

“Alice!? Alice DON’T play games here! You know that I….” Simon shrieked and whirled around Something tapped his shoulder.

“Simon! Could you BE a little slower!?”Alice joked.

Simon’s face turned red. He had let Alice scare him again. Luckily she couldn’t see his face in this place.

“Come over here you silly boy, look what I found!” she took his hand and led him through a twisting and turning path. They were going deeper into the ground, Simon knew that much. The air here was older, heavier with something almost……evil.

“Who…..Alice….what the hell is this thing?” Simon stuttered. His heart clenched up and his eyes could not draw away from that thing. It was a rough box shape, with a narrower end at one side. Strange symbols and blurry items lay about on the floor and on the object. A skull with ruby stone eyes was engraved at the other end, right where the head would be.

“It’s so cool right Simon!? Just think! What if the villagers knew we discovered it and then-“ Alice rambled on.

“Wait! Alice calm down. I can’t read that well, but this isn’t our village-“Simon piped.

“Oh! Don’t be so SILLY Simon! Look at those red stones! We could….we could sell them to that big town over by the river!” Alice raved.

“I…don’t think that’s a very good idea Alice.” Simon told her. Then again, they could always do with a little more money…….”Aw hell” he thought.

“Okay fine, let’s get the stones. Alright!? But we can’t tell ANYONE, because they will try to take it for themselves!” Simon whispered. He touched the stone, expecting it to be stuck there, but it came off as easily as you would pluck a piece of grass! He pocketed the stone, turning to Alice.

“You got yours?”

“Yup! Let’s go back Simon! The villagers will be wondering where we got to!”

The two children turned and began to make their way back. A soft grinding sound made Simon turn.

“What?”Simon cocked his ear, listening again. No sound at all but the wind. He shrugged and continued out of the cave. The day was nearly over when the coffin lid cracked, and toppled off the side of the now open tomb, crashing to the floor. Simon and Alice had awoken something terrible, something that would bring fear into every aspect of their life.

[Lizizadolphin]

This sounds really interesting, I like the whole medieval setting

[MyLittleHellhound]

Sorry, the second chapter didnt post, but now its up !

The warm night air carried the cricket song through the still meadows and quiet huts. In the middle of this tiny community, a huge fire roared, providing warmth and light for all. Around this center sat the children, the woman, and the men. A lone dog barked and a slight gust of wind rustled the straw on the huts.

“…..and they lived happily ever after.” Old Pete finished, bowing to the cheering crowd.

Children shrieked with delight, mothers restraining them from touching the fire. The men were drinking a village concoction, which apparently gave great strength in times of need.

“Another story! Another story!” The children cheered.

Old Pete leaned on his gnarled oak stick and cast a glance at the crowd.

“Alright then,” he told them, “but this one will be a bit scary!”

Old Pete leered; face a flickering mask of shadow in the fire. The children looked on in awe as he began his tale.

“Not far from here, three hundred years ago, there was a battle! It was a duel between big tribes of nomads who fought over the rich land we have today. Leading one side was Chief of the Germanic tribes, and on the other the Chief of the Roman tribes.” He gestured towards the rocky foothills. “Over there, the bloodshed and fighting ensued, and eventually, the Germanic tribes retreated, never to return to this land again.”

The children’s heads all turned at once, like a flock of birds. Their curious eyes searched the darkness for a hint of anything, whether it is one of the Chiefs or a ghostly image of a skirmish.

“Some say they still haunt these lands, searching for revenge. Others say they are buried in the ground, and whoever takes their most precious possessions shall be treated with no mercy…..” Old Pete’s eyes bored into Simon and Alice, who were sitting at the front of the circle.

They fidgeted with hands in worn pockets, the cold ruby stones sitting in the palm of their hand. Simon stared right back, Alice looked towards the foothills. Old Pete scrutinized them for a moment, then turned back and sat down. Simon jerked his head to Alice and they both rose, pushing past the crowds. The pair parted ways, and each went to their own abode. They lived right across each other anyways. Simon lay down on the dirt floor and sighed, closing his eyes. The moon shone through the cracks in the walls, shattering the floor in an erratic pattern of white and black.

Alice tossed and turned on her very own dirt floor. She rolled on something hard, it dug into her skin. Alice pulled out the forgotten ruby stone. It glimmered in the moonlight, casting an eerie red glow on her face. The ruby felt cold to the touch. It whispered to her, and Alice stared into its depths, trying to decipher the secrets it held. She felt the world around her disappear, and her vision went black…………………..only to wake up in the body of a powerful warrior. His heavy feet slapped on the grass alongside his fellow tribe members, his brothers he would fight with, against the terrible Roman tribes. His muscular arms and callused hands caressed his stone axe, stained with the blood of many men he had bested in combat. The tribe crested the hill, and saw what appeared to be a mass of Roman tribe members. Simple flags fluttered in the wind, and the two groups sized each other up, readying for the night of bloodshed. The two groups charged, hundreds of feet pounding the rocks and making a racket for miles around. And then, like two beasts locking horns, they collided. Alice awoke with a start, neck cramped from being curled up. Her two parents snored away, unaware. Suddenly, a disturbance. Noise, like low moaning. Scratching. Alice opened the flap of her hut, and scrambled back from the shambling dead wandering the rocky foothills.

Alice was frozen to the spot as she looked on in horror. Shadowy figures moved and swarmed the hills, like a colony of black ants. She stifled a scream, and slowly backed away to awake her father. She needed to alert the fighters, and fast.

“Daddy,” she whispered urgently, “wake up!”

“Mmmmm?” he grumbled. “What is it Alice……”

“You need to grab your weapon dad! There’s something outside!” Alice shook him.

Alice’s father sat upright, throwing off the blanket. He covered himself with a thick leather cover shirt, and reached for his battle axe leaning at the side of his bed.

“What is it Alice? Wild dogs?” he smiled. “Don’t worry; we’ll just ch…….”

Alice’s father swore. “Awake the villagers Alice! Go, QUICKLY!” he ushered her out the back entrance.

Alice stumbled and crept around, staying in the shadows. The first house she reached was Old Pete’s. She was about to knock on the wall when a growl came out of the darkness.

“Wake me up in the middle of the night and expect me to……” Old Pete rumbled, leaning on his stick. “What is it you want?”

“There’s something outside! Grab your weapon!” Alice whispered. She went to the next house, and the next, until all of the villagers were awake. She wondered how Simon would fare.

Suddenly a yell came from the darkness as the men of the village bore down on the shambling figures. Torches were thrown onto the things, sending them up in a big fireball that lit up……the horde. The two foes clashed like two waves, the men chopping and slashing and whacking their simple weapons against cold dead hands. The women and children ran for it, screaming in horror. Some were blind, running into the zombies only to get ripped apart and consumed. Others ran for the river, the big city as they called it. No one was used to this horror, this combat. The men fought with simple tactics, aware that the enemy outnumbered them 50 to 1, but still fighting with utter ferocity. Alice watched from her hiding place as a man beat down two zombies, then was shoved into another. The zombie bit his neck, sending a fountain of liquid blood spurting high into the air. The man screamed, sinking down onto his knees where he was torn apart like turkey on Thanksgiving. Another man stabbed and slashed with his daggers. The zombies tore it from his hands like taking a toy from a toddler, and then ripped out his arm. The detached limb was held like a simple club in the zombie’s hands as the man was eaten alive. The grass and dirt ran red and black. The smell of blood was intoxicating; Alice could smell it even from here. Then she saw her father, and a sprinting figure. It was Simon! He dodged a zombie, and slid to a halt inside her hut.

“Hey Alice,” he stammered, “What the hell is going on!”

“I don’t know, I woke up and these things, they just…” Alice mumbled.

“We have to get out of here! The zombies will overrun us!” Simon gestured. “Look, the zombies are already overwhelming the fighters out there, and they’re all we’ve got. If we’re going to get out of this alive Alice…..”

“I can’t leave my dad to die here Simon! And you can’t either!” Alice protested. She took another look out the window.

Her father and Simon’s father fought side by side, cutting down all zombies that came close. Simon watched in simple awe as his father threw his dagger into a zombie. It came towards him, moaning and stumbling. His father grabbed the dagger, still stuck in the rotting flesh, and pulled it out with a squelch, He then picked up the zombie, throwing it 20 yards where it lay broken, struggling. Her father used a sharp stick, skewering the zombies with a single thrust. The two children noticed that the zombies had eaten most of the fighters already. Out of the 20 villagers fighting, only a handful were left. The battle was lost, that she knew. And the men did too. They fought for their families, for the survival of the children. No one knew what these things were, or where they came from, but it was a threat. Alice covered her mouth, she knew what was going to happen. Simon’s father went down, multiple bites and blood streaming from his throat and chest. Alice’s dad turned, and was piled upon. The zombies tore at his flesh, ripping skin, muscle, and bone. She saw his hand one last time, and then it disappeared into the mess. It was over. The zombies had won. The smell of raw meat reeked. Alice and Simon huddled in the dark corner, fear invading their hearts as they hid from the now zombified nomadic tribes……

[Illuminatti115]

Sorry, the second chapter didnt post, but now its up !

The warm night air carried the cricket song through the still meadows and quiet huts. In the middle of this tiny community, a huge fire roared, providing warmth and light for all. Around this center sat the children, the woman, and the men. A lone dog barked and a slight gust of wind rustled the straw on the huts.

“…..and they lived happily ever after.” Old Pete finished, bowing to the cheering crowd.

Children shrieked with delight, mothers restraining them from touching the fire. The men were drinking a village concoction, which apparently gave great strength in times of need.

“Another story! Another story!” The children cheered.

Old Pete leaned on his gnarled oak stick and cast a glance at the crowd.

“Alright then,” he told them, “but this one will be a bit scary!”

Old Pete leered; face a flickering mask of shadow in the fire. The children looked on in awe as he began his tale.

“Not far from here, three hundred years ago, there was a battle! It was a duel between big tribes of nomads who fought over the rich land we have today. Leading one side was Chief of the Germanic tribes, and on the other the Chief of the Roman tribes.” He gestured towards the rocky foothills. “Over there, the bloodshed and fighting ensued, and eventually, the Germanic tribes retreated, never to return to this land again.”

The children’s heads all turned at once, like a flock of birds. Their curious eyes searched the darkness for a hint of anything, whether it is one of the Chiefs or a ghostly image of a skirmish.

“Some say they still haunt these lands, searching for revenge. Others say they are buried in the ground, and whoever takes their most precious possessions shall be treated with no mercy…..” Old Pete’s eyes bored into Simon and Alice, who were sitting at the front of the circle.

They fidgeted with hands in worn pockets, the cold ruby stones sitting in the palm of their hand. Simon stared right back, Alice looked towards the foothills. Old Pete scrutinized them for a moment, then turned back and sat down. Simon jerked his head to Alice and they both rose, pushing past the crowds. The pair parted ways, and each went to their own abode. They lived right across each other anyways. Simon lay down on the dirt floor and sighed, closing his eyes. The moon shone through the cracks in the walls, shattering the floor in an erratic pattern of white and black.

Alice tossed and turned on her very own dirt floor. She rolled on something hard, it dug into her skin. Alice pulled out the forgotten ruby stone. It glimmered in the moonlight, casting an eerie red glow on her face. The ruby felt cold to the touch. It whispered to her, and Alice stared into its depths, trying to decipher the secrets it held. She felt the world around her disappear, and her vision went black…………………..only to wake up in the body of a powerful warrior. His heavy feet slapped on the grass alongside his fellow tribe members, his brothers he would fight with, against the terrible Roman tribes. His muscular arms and callused hands caressed his stone axe, stained with the blood of many men he had bested in combat. The tribe crested the hill, and saw what appeared to be a mass of Roman tribe members. Simple flags fluttered in the wind, and the two groups sized each other up, readying for the night of bloodshed. The two groups charged, hundreds of feet pounding the rocks and making a racket for miles around. And then, like two beasts locking horns, they collided. Alice awoke with a start, neck cramped from being curled up. Her two parents snored away, unaware. Suddenly, a disturbance. Noise, like low moaning. Scratching. Alice opened the flap of her hut, and scrambled back from the shambling dead wandering the rocky foothills.

Alice was frozen to the spot as she looked on in horror. Shadowy figures moved and swarmed the hills, like a colony of black ants. She stifled a scream, and slowly backed away to awake her father. She needed to alert the fighters, and fast.

“Daddy,” she whispered urgently, “wake up!”

“Mmmmm?” he grumbled. “What is it Alice……”

“You need to grab your weapon dad! There’s something outside!” Alice shook him.

Alice’s father sat upright, throwing off the blanket. He covered himself with a thick leather cover shirt, and reached for his battle axe leaning at the side of his bed.

“What is it Alice? Wild dogs?” he smiled. “Don’t worry; we’ll just ch…….”

Alice’s father swore. “Awake the villagers Alice! Go, QUICKLY!” he ushered her out the back entrance.

Alice stumbled and crept around, staying in the shadows. The first house she reached was Old Pete’s. She was about to knock on the wall when a growl came out of the darkness.

“Wake me up in the middle of the night and expect me to……” Old Pete rumbled, leaning on his stick. “What is it you want?”

“There’s something outside! Grab your weapon!” Alice whispered. She went to the next house, and the next, until all of the villagers were awake. She wondered how Simon would fare.

Suddenly a yell came from the darkness as the men of the village bore down on the shambling figures. Torches were thrown onto the things, sending them up in a big fireball that lit up……the horde. The two foes clashed like two waves, the men chopping and slashing and whacking their simple weapons against cold dead hands. The women and children ran for it, screaming in horror. Some were blind, running into the zombies only to get ripped apart and consumed. Others ran for the river, the big city as they called it. No one was used to this horror, this combat. The men fought with simple tactics, aware that the enemy outnumbered them 50 to 1, but still fighting with utter ferocity. Alice watched from her hiding place as a man beat down two zombies, then was shoved into another. The zombie bit his neck, sending a fountain of liquid blood spurting high into the air. The man screamed, sinking down onto his knees where he was torn apart like turkey on Thanksgiving. Another man stabbed and slashed with his daggers. The zombies tore it from his hands like taking a toy from a toddler, and then ripped out his arm. The detached limb was held like a simple club in the zombie’s hands as the man was eaten alive. The grass and dirt ran red and black. The smell of blood was intoxicating; Alice could smell it even from here. Then she saw her father, and a sprinting figure. It was Simon! He dodged a zombie, and slid to a halt inside her hut.

“Hey Alice,” he stammered, “What the hell is going on!”

“I don’t know, I woke up and these things, they just…” Alice mumbled.

“We have to get out of here! The zombies will overrun us!” Simon gestured. “Look, the zombies are already overwhelming the fighters out there, and they’re all we’ve got. If we’re going to get out of this alive Alice…..”

“I can’t leave my dad to die here Simon! And you can’t either!” Alice protested. She took another look out the window.

Her father and Simon’s father fought side by side, cutting down all zombies that came close. Simon watched in simple awe as his father threw his dagger into a zombie. It came towards him, moaning and stumbling. His father grabbed the dagger, still stuck in the rotting flesh, and pulled it out with a squelch, He then picked up the zombie, throwing it 20 yards where it lay broken, struggling. Her father used a sharp stick, skewering the zombies with a single thrust. The two children noticed that the zombies had eaten most of the fighters already. Out of the 20 villagers fighting, only a handful were left. The battle was lost, that she knew. And the men did too. They fought for their families, for the survival of the children. No one knew what these things were, or where they came from, but it was a threat. Alice covered her mouth, she knew what was going to happen. Simon’s father went down, multiple bites and blood streaming from his throat and chest. Alice’s dad turned, and was piled upon. The zombies tore at his flesh, ripping skin, muscle, and bone. She saw his hand one last time, and then it disappeared into the mess. It was over. The zombies had won. The smell of raw meat reeked. Alice and Simon huddled in the dark corner, fear invading their hearts as they hid from the now zombified nomadic tribes……

Nice! Nice! This is such a good story! I gotta be honest, I'm stunned! Maybe if I rethink a little while, you can share your ideas and mine into "Nazi Zombies III", a book or game I'm making. In fact, I was thinking of inviting you as a zombie group leader like "X-Plorers".

Do you want to want to print your maps into mine

OR

Do you want to want to be a leader of the zombie group?

(Both is available)

[jasonkorrey]

This sounds really interesting, I like the whole medieval setting

Yes, it could pretty interesting. For me its real enjoying things and such things are like whole interesting arena.

[darkflareon]

I think that both chapters are great you can really connect with the characters and feel there fear. I hope you keep posting chapters as I cant wait to see how the rest of a medieval europ would survive. I also really like how each section flowes together and just in general think this is a grat story

-Flareon

[SaLaD_FiNgErS_HD]

Nice work, as always [brains]