Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"Hey boys! You look messed up today" an old man with his back hunched over walked up to the two brothers.

"Mister David… Still up at this hour?" Zola was the one to respond first, his head still aching from the repeated beating he had received just about ten minutes ago.

"The night falls quickly, and I am still trying to convince Milo to marry Helena, it takes hours to get anywhere with this" the elder laughed heartily.

"But seriously, what happened?" he stopped as quickly as he started, the two brothers were truly looking deplorable.

The duo explained what they had been up to, they and David exchanged a few more words after that but quickly went on their ways to go lay down their bruised bodies.

Old man David looked around, when he had come out to greet the two brothers, he could have sworn to have seen a third person in the distance, they weren’t showing up however, so he just shrugged his shoulders and assumed that it was just his imagination.

He headed back into his humble home, a rather large home in comparison to the rest that could be found in the maze-like village surrounding the city of Throdqdmond, but still quite lacking in all that mattered for a house.

It used to be a barn after all.

David failed to see the skeletal figure creeping from behind a tree, Loimos had been mere meters away from him.

Blissfully unaware, he retreated back into the safety of his home, watched the entire time but not followed as the undead turned his attention to a shed placed opposite to the entrance the man had just gone through.

The old man sat down at a table, were a well-built young man, dressed in a typical shirt most peasants like them wore around the whole year, it was impossible to tell whether it was discoloured or not, if it was supposed to be disproportionate or if it had simply been worn for too long.

One thing was certain, one with smooth skin wouldn’t be able to wear this without itching terribly.

"So, Milo, where were we?" David spoke casually, as though they hadn’t had this exact same conversation hundreds of times, like they hadn’t gone over it a few minutes ago.

"Mister David, I won’t marry your daughter, I don’t even know her! How will you even convince her? She is literate, an apprentice scholar and a mage! I seriously don’t understand why you want that to happen!" like many times before, Milo formed a perfectly logical argument.

It was only natural that a mere peasant like him shouldn’t mingle with someone of such talent, even if he shared what was pretty much a father-son relationship with David, that didn’t seem proper.

"I don’t want her to end up with a snobby noble, you are a good kid Milo and I assure you, you two will hit off just right-" David was also capable of using logic unfortunately, it was a simple tool even barely educated farmers like them could wield with lethality.

As he was making use of it however, both him and Milo heard something falling off with strength outside.

Both recognised this sound, it wasn’t the first time a robber tried to break into the shed outside.

David grabbed a pickaxe leaned over on a wall whilst Milo grabbed a pitchfork.

They stepped outside and watched the shed from afar, no sign of someone running off into the night, no more sound, the moonlight shone brightly.

Something else fell in the shed, this thief was quite the daring one it seemed.

David shouted at them to get the hell away, not truly wanting to cave their head in with his pickaxe, though they would better not try him.

"I don’t think they care" Milo remarked aloud, after that other object fell heavily, the robber continued to search through the shed, rustling and shuffling things around without even stopping or slowing down as they were told to go away.

The two of them looked at one another, definitely not wanting to approach the dark interior of the shed when there was seemingly a fearless man inside.

A few more moments passed and soon enough, a figure stepped out of the shed, both David and Milo stepped back preemptively despite already being a considerable distance away.

The robber looked at the two living before him.

Loimos had found exactly what he needed inside of there.

He looked nothing like a thief, by digging through all of the random stuff packed up inside of there, he had found boots, pants, a shirt and a dark mantle, which was closed with buttons and was so long that it reached just above his ankles.

He had put on more than a single layer of clothes and grew rot all over his body to give the impression that it was indeed a person under all of this.

Gloves tied to his arms with ropes and strings so that they wouldn’t slip away and reveal his true self.

As for the head, the mantle didn’t have a hood attached so Loimos settled for an old, white and dusty potato bag, it was quite the huge sack, it wouldn’t be ripped off his skull easily.

He had cut two holes for his eyes, his dead senses didn’t allow him to see right through solid objects after all, he would still be able to manoeuvre using his undead senses and other extra senses, but the holes served to indicate that it was just a man beneath the mask.

Though, the way he had cut the bag open, it gave the impression that his ’face’ was permanently stuck in a sad expression.

He tried to mimic breathing using false organs made of rot but it wasn’t very convincing just yet, no matter however, the old man and youth in front of him weren’t paying attention to that, nor were they attentive enough to notice that his fake breathing was completely wrong.

The two were not only taken aback by his appearance and rather tall stature, but also by the fact that he had taken something other than clothes from the shed, in fact, from their perspective, it seemed like the so-called ’thief’ had gone in and only came out with a machete.

Certainly, the two living were starting to believe that he wasn’t after money or goods.

The three stood at a standstill for a mere second before Loimos simply turned and walked away, completely ignoring them.

Neither of them felt like confronting him and so, they allowed him to disappear in the darkness of a nearby field of corn.