Eyes of the Undead

Andre was abruptly awoken by a thin beam of light from the moon, shining through the bare branches of the lifeless trees. He quickly assumed an upright position, feeling his heart racing against his chest. A disturbing sensation, a tingling feeling on the back of his neck, wouldn't loosen its grip. He was familiar with the sensation, the foreboding of potential harm.

Looking around the campsite, he let his eyes adapt to the faint glow. Res and Marcus were still sound asleep, huddled in their own cloaks. Anya, always watchful, was already waking up, her green eyes opening quickly when he suddenly moved.

"Is that you, Andre?" she murmured, her words tinged with worry. "What is the matter?"

"I have no idea," Andre croaked, speaking so softly it was almost a whisper. "However, something feels off. Like..." He paused, seeking the correct words. "It feels as though death is keeping a close eye on us."

Anya's forehead creased slightly as a touch of worry began to show in her eyes. She gently nudged Res, who muttered a few incomprehensible words before fully waking up. Marcus, the final one to awaken, moved as a result of the disturbance.

He inquired, with a sleepy voice, "What's happening?"

"We've gotta move," said Andre urgently. "Now."

He didn't feel the need to clarify the unsettling sensation that was eating away at him. There was no opportunity to ask questions. Trust was the only thing they had, developed through months of enduring challenges together.

They efficiently packed up their camp, with only the sound of rustling leaves and fading embers breaking the silence. As they started again, the feeling of danger grew stronger. Andre's arm hairs stood on end, and his skin became covered in a cold sweat.

After an hour of walking, they were suddenly struck by it. A deep, rumbling growl emanating from the forest made them shiver with fear. After that, figures appeared from the thick vegetation on both sides of the trail.

Anya gasped, her hand flying to her throat. They were not human or anything that Andre had ever seen. Emaciated figures, their previously strong bodies now bony frames pulled tightly with decaying skin, shuffled closer with a disturbingly focused intent.

Their eyes glowed like embers in the darkness, showing a chilling desire. Undead Orcs.

Andre swore quietly to himself. These were not stupid animals; these were unstoppable machines of death, powered by a sinister magic. Despite his heart pounding, he felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, a peaceful calm washing over him.

Andre activated his first dimensional ring with a skilled movement of his wrist. It sparkled briefly before disappearing, and instead appeared a huge, dark, double-handed sword. Its shiny obsidian exterior reflected an unearthly glow, contrasting eerily with the moonlight streaming through the branches.

Res, always in harmony with him, had already unsheathed her pair of twin daggers, their deadly silver blades shining in the moonlight

"New weapon huh" said Andre with a smile.

She smiled back at him then she faced back at the Orcs.

With a somber expression, Marcus gripped his father's extended sword, the shiny blade hinting at a glimmer of resistance.

Anya, bless her soul, was not very skilled in fighting. However, when the undead orcs advanced with their rough growls echoing around them, she didn't plan to stay passive either. She had a resolute look in her eyes as she released a surge of green magic, a sparkling curve of power that hit one of the orcs, making it fly backward with a loud and painful impact.

The battle started with a frenzy of metal and rotting bodies. Andre, a whirlwind in motion, skillfully wielded his large blade with lethal accuracy. Every movement was a beautiful display of strength and elegance, effortlessly cutting through bone and tissue. Res moved quickly in a mix of silver and emerald colors.

Res, a mix of silver and emerald, twirled among the orcs, her daggers shimmering like venomous snakes, uncovering weak spots in their deteriorating armor. Marcus, driven by an instinctual anger, battled fiercely despite his young age, wielding his father's sword with deadly precision as an extension of his own determination.

The smell of death and decay filled the air, mixing with the scent of blood and the growls of the orcs. The ground of the forest turned into a scene of destruction, covered with the fragmented bodies of the lifeless beings.

It was a fierce, physical battle for survival, an intense fight against an adversary driven not by life, but by a hunger that surpassed even death. However, Andre, Res, and Marcus were motivated by a unique type of desire - a desire for liberty, a desire for payback, a desire for survival.

At last, all the orcs disintegrated with a collective groan. Andre was out of breath, his muscles shouting in pain. Blood from someone else coated the blade of his large sword. He surveyed the wreckage, feeling a dark sense of contentment taking hold in his gut. They had managed to stay alive.

Andre brought down his sword, the sound of metal hitting the ground in the forest reverberating in the abrupt stillness. His chest rose and fell with effort, as the adrenaline gradually faded, causing a deep tiredness to set in. He surveyed the area, his eyes quickly moving across the scattered pieces of the lifeless orc bodies.

Dressed in green, her eyes shining like emeralds, Res smoothly slid her daggers into their holders. Her brow glistened with sweat, yet her posture stayed strong, showing her resolute determination. With dirt and sweat on his face, Marcus lowered his father's sword, showing a blend of relief and tiredness on his face.

Anya, propped up against a tree, appeared pale with a face marked by the lasting terror of the battle. The bright green light surrounding her hands had disappeared, her magic all used up.

"Even more awful than I had anticipated," she began, her voice quivering slightly.

Andre gave her a brief nod, his voice sounding rough due to his effort. "Mom, welcome to the brutal truth of our world."

A moment of quiet tension lingered, interrupted solely by the sounds of insects chirping out of sight. The heaviness of the battle, the viciousness they had witnessed, weighed down on them. Every person bore the marks of the interaction, both in their bodies and in their hearts.

"We have to leave this place," Andre finally stated, his voice calm and resolute. "The smell of blood will lure more of their kind."

Res responded briefly, her eyes staying on the destruction in their surroundings. "He's right."

Wiping the dirt off his face using his hand, Marcus gazed at Andre with a determined sparkle in his eyes. Andre, please show us the way. "We need to participate in a rebellion."

Andre felt a small glimmer of hope inside him. Their determination remained strong despite the terrible experiences they had recently encountered.