Fire. Fire was everywhere. Everything burnt to the ground. A miasma of death flew around, bringing those corpses almost burnt to ash back to life. Screaming could be heard in the distance. Fire and death awaited around every corner.

  Yet a child stood there. Wide-eyed. He saw things. Strange things. The souls of the dead leaving the bodies, then being wrapped in chains and dragged back to their bodies screaming for help. Angels weeping above, desperately reaching for the lost souls, yet unable to do anything to help.

  The child was mesmerized by this. It was both terrifying and beautiful.

  "Run child. Do not stay. Flee!" An angel cried out, tears of blood flowing freely down her cheeks.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The child only nodded and began to move. The fire was at its apex, yet the streets were still clear of flame, and he was still small enough to stay under most the smoke. The zombies were still rising, but they were slow as the souls of the damned still struggled to break free, refusing to accept their fate.

  Soon he was out of the city. Past the wall that seemed to have suddenly grown a thousand years older and crumbled to dust. Past the holes in the ground were long dead soldiers were forced out of their mass graves to attack the city they died trying to take. Past the undead animals feasting on the remains of fleeing villagers. Up into the mountains and forest. Up into safety.

  Yet he could not forget the what happened that day. He could never forget the power of necromancy that was shown to him.