Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition Chapter 800 - 800 Story 800 The Widow’s Last Breath

800: Story 800: The Widow’s Last Breath 800: Story 800: The Widow’s Last Breath The Rotting Cathedral quaked as the whisper grew into a deafening wail.

Selene Nocturna staggered back, her eerie confidence cracking as the mist twisted into sothing darker.

Sothing older.

Kruger, battered and bleeding, forced himself to his feet.

He knew that voice.

It was no ally.

No savior.

It was sothing even Selene feared.

A figure erged from the abyssal fog—clad in tattered robes, its skeletal face hidden beneath a deep hood.

The air around it crackled with unnatural energy.

This was not one of Selene’s abominations.

It was sothing beyond undeath.

Beyond her control.

Selene’s lips curled into a snarl.

“No.

This is my dominion.

My curse.

You do not belong here!”

The entity did not speak.

It simply raised one bony hand.

Selene scread as her body convulsed.

The dark magic she had hoarded for centuries turned against her, writhing beneath her skin like a parasite seeking to escape.

Her veins blackened, her eyes clouded with necrotic haze.

Kruger saw his chance.

He staggered forward, lifting his sword.

The celestial flas reignited, burning with renewed fury.

Selene’s agony turned to rage.

She gritted her teeth, fighting the unseen force that sought to unmake her.

“I will not die by your hands!” she spat, thrusting both arms outward.

The cathedral walls split open, and a tidal wave of plague and bone surged forth, consuming everything in its path.

Kruger braced himself, but the entity rely stepped forward, untouched by Selene’s last desperate attack.

Then, in a single motion, it reached inside her chest.

Selene gasped.

Her body jerked as the entity gripped sothing unseen, sothing deep within her.

Her power.

Her soul.

“No… you cannot…” she wheezed, her voice breaking.

The entity ripped its hand away.

Selene crumpled.

The light in her corpse-like eyes flickered and dimd.

Her body sagged as the plague mist dissipated, the undead legion collapsing like puppets with cut strings.

Silence.

Kruger approached cautiously.

He peered down at Selene—her once-magnificent form now a withered husk.

The Pale Widow was no more.

The entity turned its hollow gaze to Kruger.

The warrior raised his blade, but it made no move toward him.

Instead, it slowly backed into the mist, its duty fulfilled.

Within monts, it was gone.

The cathedral groaned as the corruption faded.

The battle was over.

Kruger looked down at Selene’s lifeless body.

After everything—after the years of horror, the endless battles—she was finally still.

He sheathed his sword and turned away, stepping over the ruins of her empire.

As he walked, he heard it.

A whisper.

Barely audible.

Almost… laughing.

Kruger glanced back, but Selene’s body remained motionless.

The whisper faded into the wind.

For now.