|Frost's Cruel Bite
Author: tater22 PM
Their faces however, stand out clearly, their defined features expressionless as they take us in with lifeless eyes. Nothing stops them once they walk and nothing kills them once rise from the dead.Rated: Fiction T - English - Suspense/Horror - Words: 445 - Follows: 1 - Published: 10-20-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3067265
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Winter spread across the horizon like a wild fire, its bite just as fierce as a licking flame. The chill, night air races on the valley ground, galloping though the stiff grass with a purpose. A low moan erupts from the clouds mouth as a yellow spark crackles through it.
"Hold steady men!" he shouts on top of his grey dapple horse.
The animal brays underneath his spread legs, its eyes flashing wildly as it catches the smell of rotting flesh. The group rocks back on its heels as the beast screams inhumanly, its strong jaw working at the steel bit.
The man on top fumbles with the reins, careless with his fingers. His black, shoulder length hair blows past as his chiseled face struggles to remain hard, doubt flickering in those ice blue eyes of his.
The brutal wind howls mere centimeters from our line, spitting rain drops in our faces. I blink once as it blows by us, weaving between our shields and snickering through our armor.
"Steady," a grumbling voice rises against the winds banter, "They're almost upon us!"
Panic surges through in one quick motion, killing everything in its path and slicing down enemies. My sight betrays me as it wanders helplessly to the oncoming bodies.
My figure stands ridged as our mouths fall open in disgusted shock. They move with silent grace, their muddied feet skimming the ground with feather touch, freezing the earth as they touch it. Their skin is barely visible in the defying night as they bound slowly in our direction.
Their faces however, stand out clearly, their defined features expressionless as they take us in with lifeless eyes. Nothing stops them once they walk and nothing kills them once rise from the dead.
"Keep hope lads," the voice echoes once more from high on his beast, "Remember what the gods told us! Molten steel will kill them and send them back to the bloody hell they came from!"
My foggy eyes glance down to the sword I have drawn in my quivering hand and the rain smashes down on the back of my neck, laughing at my now unchangeable fate. Wearily I look back to the advancing creatures, my eyes gravely glued to a single object stuck in one's side.
I hold my breath trying to calm my shaky demeanor, but nearly shriek in terror as a beam of torch light shines on the molten steel wedged into its still moving body.
Molten steel won't kill what's already dead.
I close my eyes as a lone tear runs down cheek and falls to the dirt, soaking into it and running away from the frost's cruel bite.