Saturday, February 2, 2013

I'm Terribly Sorry: Part Four



            Dark Francis stood on a hill to with the sun behind them staring down into the main road to the village. The morning sun glinted off their mail and armor. Dark Francis wore his light mail. He didn’t like cumbersome armor. Hump however was covered from head to toe in cruel looking layers of black, spiked metal. His axe in one hand a broadsword in the other. Dark Francis wielded his fire, and a metal staff.
            The cold pale villagers milled around haphazardly around the village, bumping into one another occasionally.
            “Look at them down there Hump. Brainless, savage, primal. These filthy beasts do not know whom they messed with. They will be the evidence for the entire world to see that no one tries to harm Sir Isaac Bartholomew Esquire Francis the Third. We will kill the men, we will slaughter the women and we will spit their children on spikes. No one will survive,” said Dark Francis. “Are you ready Hump?”
            “Yes, Sir. We will crush them,” replied Hump.
            “Alright Hump! Charge!” Dark Francis yelled.
            The shambling members of the recently reanimated cocked their heads in the direction of the noise, before they were separated from their bodies by the keen edge of Humps axe.
            “Yes, die vermin. You ungrateful pests!” Dark Francis yelled as Hump trampled a group of small rotting children.
            One of the villagers latched onto Hump’s warhorse and began to futile biting the plate armor. Hump crushed the top of the man’s skull with the pommel of his sword.
            Dark Francis rode through the village setting the buildings ablaze with a stream of fire he shot from his hands. Villagers slowly staggered out of the burning buildings until slowly collapsing from their injuries. Feet, fingers, eyes, teeth, toenails and nipples flew through the air as Hump cut down each of the villagers one to three at a time. By the time the sun was setting, the blood of the villagers was splashed across the soft ground.
            “Die you filthy thing. Die, die, die, die,” Dark Francis said punctuating each word with a whack of his staff into a villager’s skull that was quickly turning to mush.
            “Look, sir,” Hump said pointing with a bloody sword toward the tree line.
            Villagers began to emerge from the shadows of the trees armed with pitchforks and sharpened sticks.
            “Get ready Hump. Here comes some more of these ignorant inbred bumpkins,” Dark Francis said.
            The villagers walked to the edge of the village and gazed out at their scorched village and the dismembered bodies that littered the avenues. They grew in number until Hump and Dark Francis were surrounded, then a cheer suddenly roared out from the crowd. “Huzzaaah!”
            The village sheriff emerged from the crowd and yelled “Lord Francis has saved us from the plague of undead! Three cheers for the heroes!”
            “Huzzah.”
            “Huzzah.”
            “Huzzah.”
            “Do you have anything to say Sir?” asked the Sheriff.
            To which Dark Francis replied “I'm terribly sorry. Did you say undead?”

The End.

No comments:

Post a Comment