Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition-Chapter 903 Story House of the Undying
903: Story 903: House of the Undying
903: Story 903: House of the Undying
Draven slammed the rusted door shut behind them, his breath ragged.
The fog clawed at the windows, pressing against the rotted wood like a living thing.
Mira collapsed against a dusty bookshelf, her fingers trembling as she reloaded her pistol. freeweɓnovel.cѳm
“That thing…” she panted.
“The Hollow Man… it’s hunting us.”
Draven scanned the dimly lit room.
The house smelled of mildew and decay, its walls lined with tattered portraits whose eyes seemed to follow them.
“We need to keep moving,” he said.
“If we stay here too long, we’re dead.”
A sudden thud echoed from upstairs.
Mira’s fingers tightened around her weapon.
“We’re not alone.”
Draven motioned for silence.
He crept forward, his shotgun raised, stepping cautiously across the creaking floorboards.
At the base of the staircase, he hesitated.
The air was thick with the scent of rot, and the shadows at the top of the stairs seemed deeper than they should have been.
Then, a whisper: “Welcome home.”
The walls shuddered.
A grotesque figure lunged from the darkness—a corpse, but not just any corpse.
It moved with unnatural grace, its limbs jerking as if pulled by invisible strings.
Its hollowed eyes were filled with writhing maggots, and its skin, stretched too tightly over its bones, was stitched together in places.
Draven fired.
The blast tore through the creature’s ribcage, but instead of falling, it only cocked its head and let out a breathy chuckle.
Mira yanked him back as the thing swiped at them, its clawed fingers inches from his throat.
“We need to go—NOW!”
They bolted down the hallway, dodging overturned furniture and cobweb-covered relics.
The house groaned around them, as if it were alive, shifting its structure to keep them trapped.
A door at the end of the corridor burst open.
A woman stood in the threshold, her hair tangled and wild, her eyes sunken with madness.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed.
“He doesn’t like uninvited guests.”
Mira hesitated.
“Who?
The Hollow Man?”
The woman shuddered violently, gripping her head.
“No… the master of the house.”
The temperature plummeted.
From the darkness behind the woman, a low, guttural growl echoed.
A towering shape emerged—an undead abomination of stitched flesh, its head crowned with a rusted iron mask.
It raised a massive cleaver, its blade dripping with blackened ichor.
Draven grabbed Mira’s arm.
“Move!”
The walls trembled, the fog seeping inside.
The woman let out a piercing shriek as unseen hands dragged her into the abyss.
The house was collapsing in on itself, reality unraveling.
As they reached the exit, Mira risked a glance back.
The Hollow Man stood in the swirling mist, his featureless face turned toward them.
And then, everything went black.
