Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition-Chapter 708 - Story 708 The Rotting Choir
708: Story 708: The Rotting Choir
708: Story 708: The Rotting Choir
The chamber pulsed with unholy resonance.
The undead sang—a wretched, dissonant hymn that scraped against Kruger’s mind like rusted nails on bone.
Their gaping mouths spilled the melody of the damned, a song not meant for mortal ears.
Each note dug into his skull, spreading like a plague through his veins.
Kruger gritted his teeth.
He wouldn’t succumb.
Selene stood before him, her smile serene, almost affectionate as she watched him struggle.
The flickering red glow of the torches cast shadows that danced along her black robes, making her appear less human, more like some dreadful apparition.
“Do you hear them, General?” she whispered.
Her voice was silk dipped in venom.
“Their song is ancient.
Older than this world.
A melody of suffering, a lullaby for the forsaken.”
Kruger’s breath was ragged, his body screaming in protest.
The infection she had injected into him—the Crimson Hymn—was gnawing at his sanity, pulling him toward the abyss.
He could feel his limbs twitching, desperate to join the choir.
But he was not broken yet.
With a furious snarl, he pulled against the chains binding him to the stone altar.
The iron dug into his skin, but pain was an old companion—one he welcomed now. free𝑤ebnovel.com
Pain kept him human.
Selene’s expression darkened, though amusement still lingered in her crimson eyes.
“Still so defiant.” She sighed, kneeling beside him.
The scent of decay and herbs clung to her like perfume.
“You could be so much more, Kruger.
Let go of your stubbornness.
Sing with them.
Become something greater.”
Kruger met her gaze, his lips curling into a sneer.
“I’d rather die choking on my own blood than become one of your puppets.”
Selene’s smile faltered—just slightly.
Then she exhaled, rising gracefully to her feet.
“A pity,” she murmured.
“But I do love a challenge.”
She extended her hand.
Dark tendrils of energy slithered from her fingertips, latching onto Kruger’s chest.
A violent cold surged through his body, seeping into his bones.
His vision blurred, the world twisting as the Rotting Choir’s song grew louder.
He was falling.
Memories fractured.
His past, his identity—fading.
And then—gunfire.
The chamber shook as bullets tore through the undead horde.
A deafening explosion followed, blasting open one of the stone walls.
Smoke and debris filled the air.
Selene’s head snapped toward the disturbance, her eyes flashing with fury.
From the dust, a squad of armored soldiers stormed in—Kruger’s men.
“GET THE GENERAL!” one of them bellowed.
Kruger, through sheer force of will, forced his head up.
Selene stepped back, her smile now gone, replaced with cold rage.
“It seems our duet will have to wait,” she whispered.
And with a flick of her wrist, she vanished into the shadows.
The song ended.
But the war had just begun.
