Neir's heart pounded wildly as his mind spun for answers. These appalling, horrendous monsters drew closer and closer, until Neir's razor-sharp eyes caught sight of what he believed to be a human among them. The man was tall and carried a worn-out scythe, and to his left stood one of the bone creatures, distinguished by an indigo sheen in its empty eye sockets.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and Neir whirled around in panic, fearing he was about to be surrounded.
"What is it now?" the willowy Wilfur asked, a few bruises and scrapes visible on his pale face.
Neir relaxed slightly and explained the situation as concisely as he could. "Some strange monsters are here; they number at least fifty!" Neir pointed at the stumbling horde as they approached.
"I don't see anything," Wilfur replied confidently. Neir wanted to smack himself. This man's only use was to hit things.
"I'm the scout, remember? I have good eyes!" Neir half-pleaded, half-shouted, pointing fearfully at the cluster, which inched ever closer while they spoke.
"Hmmm, why do they have no faces?" Wilfur asked, obviously confused, squinting at one of the bleached-bone beings.
"How should I know? Listen, just go and crush them. That should send the rest running. It's just like those beasts, you like smashing things, don't you?"
"Hmmm..." Wilfur spent a full twenty seconds pondering Neir's words before finally taking action. All the while, Neir slowly distanced himself from the impending brawl. He did not go too far, though; in his mind, there were two possible outcomes. If Wilfur won, then these weaklings were not much of a problem. If he lost, at least Neir would have an idea of what he was dealing with.
Wilfur advanced toward the mob at a steady pace, his spear aimed at the stomach of his first adversary. Wilfur wasn't one for pleasantries; he moved straight in for the attack. He used his immense strength and the weight of the spear to thrust himself and his weapon forward.
Neir trembled with both fear and anticipation, hoping Wilfur would be enough to stop this encroaching threat. He watched as Wilfur's crude spear stabbed into the first creature's abdomen. This creature, unlike the bone entities, looked more like a moving corpse, with flaky skin and hollow, mournful eyes.
Neir rejoiced inwardly, surprised at the simplicity of the encounter. The thing did not even try to move, much less dodge or block. This was good news, it meant that if he rallied the others and they worked together, a future of riches and success could be his. He was distracted by his internal celebrations and failed to see what happened next, only refocusing when he heard a chilling scream.
"ARGHHH! MY ARM!" Wilfur roared as blood dripped from his wounded arm. Wilfur wasn't a smart man, and he knew it, but he understood combat. After piercing the creature, instead of bleeding and staying down as anyone else would, the thing seemed wholly uninjured. When he withdrew his spear and turned to face his next opponent, he felt a sharp, stinging pain in his arm. He didn't know what was worse, the pain or the horror of watching his arm being devoured.
He frantically threw the attacker off and tried to assess his injury. To his horror, the one he had thrown aside stood up and advanced again. Rage bubbled within him, and pain receded from his mind. He stomped toward the abomination, spear held low. He didn't understand the creature before him, but it looked human, so a stab to the heart should end it.
His muscles flexed and bulged as he felt the resistance of flesh and bone. His strike hit true, ripping through his opponent's chest and protruding from its back. Wilfur roared and, with all his might, slammed the impaled zombie to the ground.
He panted heavily, needing rest. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the sharp pain returned. He was about to retreat and seek reinforcements when agony erupted from his leg. Wilfur looked down in horror to see the supposedly lifeless body gnawing on his leg.
The pain caused him to stumble with a grunt, bringing him face-to-face with his attacker. He kicked the creature's face in desperation to free his leg, which was still being devoured. Dread and despair twisted together inside him. He kicked and kicked until he finally broke free, only to be met with more hopelessness. In the time it had taken for his struggle, the others had closed in. Now, a second corpse was reaching for him.
He tried to flee, but pain slowed him down. He couldn't escape before the second monster sank its teeth into his outstretched hand. More pain, more suffering, and now nausea and dizziness joined in. His instincts screamed for him to run.
"NEIR, HELP!" he screamed as a third and fourth abomination closed in. "PLEASE!" he pleaded, but there was no reply. His first opponent, with two gaping holes in its chest, moved closer to his neck. "NE-" His words were cut off as blood gushed from his throat.
Neir watched in terror, frozen in place. They swarmed Wilfur like ants. First one, then two, then four, until Neir could no longer see the man who had stood beside him minutes ago. He knew he had to flee, but his shaking legs refused to move. He watched as Wilfur was consumed, the light fading from his eyes.
Then it happened. Wilfur stood up. Neir's frantic mind cheered, believing that some miracle had saved Wilfur and would save him too. Those cheers turned to something indescribable. The moving corpses surrounding Wilfur stepped aside, ignoring him as they turned their attention to the still-frozen Neir. Wilfur, now standing among his new monstrous companions, stared lifelessly at Neir with dead eyes.