Elijah twisted his wrists, pulling his heavy iron sword with all his strength. With a loud, wet crunch, the thick blade finally broke free from the ribcage of the monster in front of him. Black, oily blood sprayed across Elijah’s face. He did not blink. He just wiped it away with the back of his dirty leather glove.The monster fell backward into the mud, but it did not die. It could not die. Nothing in this world could die anymore.Elijah looked down at the creature. Its skin was pale and rotting. Its eyes were completely white, rolled back into its head. Its jaw hung open, snapping at the empty air. This was a Hollow. It was a human whose soul was trapped in a dead body.But Elijah knew this Hollow. He knew the man trapped inside."I am sorry, Arthur," Elijah whispered. His voice was rough, like two stones grinding together.Before the sickness came, Arthur had been Elijah’s neighbor. He was a kind, older man who used to bake bread and share it with everyone on their street. Now, Ar

"No!" Mother Vanya snapped. "The cage is for prisoners, not monsters. The Blight is in him. Look how fast it spreads. He might lose his mind before midnight. We cannot take the risk. The community is more important than one man. Even our best man."She pointed her staff directly at Elijah’s chest. "Gather your things. You have five minutes to walk out the front gate. If you refuse, we will force you out."Elijah looked at the old woman. He did not feel angry. He only felt a deep, heavy sadness. He knew she was right. If the situation were reversed, he would have dragged an infected person out of the camp himself. It was the only way to keep the healthy people safe."I will go," Elijah said quietly.He walked past them. The guards quickly moved out of his way, pressing their backs against the walls so they would not touch him. They looked at him like he was already a corpse.Elijah went to his small tent. He didn't take much. He took a heavy wool cloak, a canteen of water, and his iron

Elijah checked his body for his weapons. His heavy iron sword was gone. His belt of iron spikes was gone. Even his small carving knife was missing. He was completely unarmed, stranded in a nightmare world wearing nothing but wet clothes and heavy boots.Suddenly, a sound broke the eerie silence.Snap.It was the sound of a dry branch breaking under a heavy foot.Elijah froze. His survival instincts, trained by years of fighting the Hollows in the ruined cities of Earth, kicked in instantly. He dropped into a low crouch, hiding behind a large, jagged boulder on the shoreline. He held his breath and listened.The sound came from the line of dead, twisted trees about fifty yards away from the river.Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.Footsteps. But they were not human footsteps. They were too heavy, too deliberate. The sound of four heavy paws pressing into the dry, black leaves.Elijah slowly peeked around the edge of the boulder. The purple light from the cracked moon illuminated the tree line. A

Two dozen pairs of glowing red eyes stared at Elijah from the dark line of dead trees. The night air was totally silent, except for the low, vibrating growls coming from the throats of the massive beasts. The Lesser Hellhounds stepped out of the shadows. Their bodies were made of bright white bone and swirling, liquid-like black smoke. They were huge, hungry, and ready to tear him into tiny pieces.Before tonight, Elijah would have felt absolute terror. If a pack of angry, infected Hollows had surrounded him back on Earth, he would have looked for a way to run. He would have felt cold fear gripping his heart.But right now, standing on the muddy shore of the blood river, Elijah did not feel any fear at all.He looked down at his right hand. The pitch-black flames danced over his skin, outlined by a sick, glowing purple light. The fire did not burn him. It felt like a part of his own body. It felt warm, powerful, and deeply alive. A strange, vibrating energy hummed inside his chest, ri

At the very front, near a large stone altar, he found the source of the sound.A man was sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the base of the altar.Elijah quickly stepped closer. The man was wearing beautiful, shining silver armor, decorated with white wings and golden crosses. But the armor was completely destroyed. A massive, jagged hole was torn straight through the center of the silver chest plate. Bright red blood poured heavily from the terrible wound, pooling on the cold stone floor around him.The man was dying. He had only minutes left.As Elijah walked closer, his boots crunched on some broken glass.The dying warrior slowly lifted his head. He looked to be in his forties, with short blonde hair and a face covered in dirt and sweat. He reached to his side with a shaking hand and picked up a broken silver sword. He pointed the broken blade weakly toward Elijah."Stay back, demon," the warrior gasped. Blood bubbled at the corner of his lips. "I will not let you take