Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition Chapter 918 - 918 Story 918 The Buried Truth

918: Story 918: The Buried Truth 918: Story 918: The Buried Truth Draven awoke in darkness.

The world was silent, except for the sound of sothing breathing nearby—slow, raspy, and wrong.

He tried to move, but the ground beneath him was not solid.

It felt like rotting flesh, shifting under his weight.

Mira groaned sowhere close.

“Where… are we?”

Elias cursed.

“This ain’t right.”

A dim, sickly blue light flickered, illuminating their surroundings.

They were in an underground cavern, the walls pulsing like sothing alive.

Jagged bones jutted from the ceiling, and in the center of the space stood a massive iron gate, rusted but still intact.

Draven clenched the Cursed Book in his hands.

The girl’s voice still echoed in his mind: The answers are inside… but once you read it…

Mira shuddered.

“We have to get out of here.”

Before anyone could respond, a figure erged from the shadows.

It was him—or rather, what remained of him.

Father Alistair.

The forr priest was barely human anymore.

His robes were tattered, his skin gray and cracked, and his eyes burned with a sickening green glow.

“You shouldn’t have co here,” he said, his voice distorted.

Draven raised his shotgun.

“And yet, here we are.”

Alistair grinned, revealing blackened teeth.

“This place… it’s older than you can imagine.

The Rotting King does not tolerate trespassers.”

Elias scoffed.

“Oh yeah?

Then where is he?”

The walls quivered.

A deep, thunderous growl rumbled through the cavern.

Mira’s breath caught.

“You just had to ask.”

The gate began to open, revealing nothing but a void—a swirling abyss of shadows and writhing limbs.

And from that abyss, sothing massive began to crawl forward.

A corpse-like titan, wrapped in chains of rusted iron, with hollow sockets where eyes should be.

Its flesh was rotted, held together by so unnatural force.

The Rotting King.

Draven tightened his grip on the Cursed Book.

His instincts scread at him to run, but he knew—this was why they were here.

Alistair raised his hands, the symbols carved into his skin glowing.

“Bow before your true master.”

The Rotting King took a step forward, the cavern shaking with his presence.

His voice was like a thousand whispers layered over each other, clawing at their minds.

“You have stolen what belongs to .”

Draven opened the book.

The text shifted, rearranging itself as if reacting to the monster’s voice.

Pages blackened, the words twisting into sothing unreadable.

Mira grabbed his arm.

“Draven—”

Too late.

The book exploded in a burst of unnatural fire, and the world collapsed around them.

For a mont, there was nothing but void.

Then—

Screaming.

And a new nightmare began.