A Christmas Tale 2005

December 23rd, The Town of Niagyro

The snow landed upon the ground lightly, slowly whirled around the shattered tombstones and settled as dust upon the dark graveyard. It lit up the night sky with a florescent glow as the clouds circled the vicious half moon. A door blew open somewhere in the distance and the soundwaves flew rapidly through the air until they slowly dissapeared and echoed through the darkness. Suddenly a hand was thrust up through the snow. Its grey, rotten and crooked fingers gasped for air and grasped for solid ground. Another hand was thrust up nearby. Soon the hands covered the graveyard, piercing the blanket of bright white snow, reaching out for it as it fell down from the dark clouds.

An arm twisted itself towards the clouds, then a head rose up from the ground. Maggots falling from his eyes, a dull blew glow shining inside his empty skull. They lined up infront of their graves, looking up at the unseen stars, swaying from side to side, slowly regaining life. Their rotten flesh started growing, covering their faces, then their body. The maggots squirmed out of their eye sockets and fell in piles on the ground. Skeletons started turning back into humans. The snow turned into flesh and covered their bodys, transformed them into what they once were. They looked around with vacant stares, their now dull blue eyeballs revolving in their head, waiting for thier eyelashes and eyebrows to return to their familiar place.

In the town shops were closing, people were returning from a last minute shopping run as the storm quickly drew closer. Smoke rose from the chimneys and followed the wind past the falling snowflakes. A thick layer of snow covered the streets and the living hid within the warmth of their homes. Shades were pulled down and lights were turned off. The silence spreading it’s comfortable odor as the wind howled on outside. An army of zombies marched in through the deep forests as the last person shut his door and sealed it tightly. The living dead staggered through the fierce wind through the gate, they slowly made their way into the town square. The wind howled even louder now and the trees swayed violently in the ferocious breeze.

They aimlessly wondered through the town. Clawing at windows and running against sturdy wooden doors. Their bodys had turned a blueish color. Their feet were covered in blood and left red footprints behind them wich were quickly covered by snow. The wind howled even louder then before and an old oak tree leaned heavily to one side. The snowflakes flew in all directions and piled higher on the empy street. They started losing their strength, their eyes starting losing their blue glow. One of them stumbled and fell down on his knees. He slolwy crawled forward, weakly pushing against the wall of a house. His eyes faded and his blue flesh fell down as snow.

They fell one by one, their flesh reemerging to nature and their bodys returning to their skeleton state. The leader struggled against the wind, a small group still followed him, clinging to life. They marched through the town and arrived at the river below. A sudden gust of wind blew out the remains of life in the last remaining follower and he stood their alone, looking at the frozen shore and the vicious waves as his eyes faded into dark black.

The old oak tree fell.

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