Chapter 30: Flesh-Eating Ghoul
Moments later, Merek stepped out of the gym, flanked by Felicity, Tevin, Nero, Fred, and the three student drivers Professor David had selected.
Though none of the students had ever driven a bus before, they each had decent driving experience—just enough skill and confidence to adapt if things went south.
The group moved in a loose formation, boots crunching against the pavement and broken glass. The sharp metallic clinks of armored footsteps followed close behind—an eerie, rhythmic sound that echoed off the deserted campus buildings. Merek’s wraiths.
They passed the rotting corpses of zombies, their mangled bodies silent testimony to the group’s earlier path through the chaos.
Blood stained the ground, already drying into dark crusts. Fred, walking with his baseball bat slung lazily over one shoulder, glanced sideways at the armored figures behind Merek.
A flash of envy sparked in his chest.
He wished, quietly, fiercely, that he too had such terrifying warriors at his command. They didn’t just look strong... they were also terrifying. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed that their numbers were growing.
When Fred had first seen Merek, the man had three of them.
Now he had five.
Four of the wraiths were massive and jet black, their armor shaped like the bones of monsters. Ribcage-shaped breastplates, heavy pauldrons, thick limbs clad in layered plates. Each bore a double-bladed greatsword, and long chains hung from their waists and swords, clinking faintly with every step. Their helms were shaped like curved beaks, a twisted cross between a raven and a plague mask, and from each helm spilled a crimson plume—thick and wet-looking, like hair dipped in fresh blood.
They moved in perfect silence, exuding an aura that chilled the air around them. Watching them march in step, side by side, was like staring into the depths of some forgotten nightmare.