Story 702: The Widow’s Web

The once-thriving town of Black Hollow had become a mausoleum. Streets littered with the dead, buildings overtaken by creeping black mold, and an eerie silence that stretched through the ruins. But silence did not mean absence. Something still moved in the dark.

General Kruger stood at the town’s edge, his grip tightening around his rifle. The mission was simple—assess the situation, retrieve survivors, and burn the infected. Yet, as he surveyed the desolation before him, he knew they were already too late.

“This wasn’t just a plague,” murmured Sergeant Vale, his second-in-command. “Something unnatural happened here.”

Kruger nodded. He had seen outbreaks before—zombie hordes ripping through villages like wildfire—but this? This was precise, deliberate. The bodies of the dead weren’t simply victims; they had been transformed. Black veins ran like twisted roots beneath their skin, their faces locked in silent whispers, lips moving in unison as if caught in an endless prayer.