This story will be written over time. I'll submit some every week or so until I have a full story.

A knocking at the door. In the small farmhouse a woman gets up out of her chair and answers it. It is a gruff man, with a large box. Back on the cobbled road, a cart is stacked high with simialar crates, the symbol of Andorhal barely visible in the weak sun of late afternoon. With a sigh, he says, "Grain shipment from Andorhal. Just pay up the King's tax, and I'll give you the grain no prob'. Got it?" The woman nodded, and gave the man seventy small silver coins. He gave her a smile and dropped the box on the floor, leaving without even closing the door and riding off once more. She closed the door wearily, and opened up the box. In it were four large sacks of grain. She called a name, and a man walked down the stairs. She told him to take the grain to the mill so they could have bread at dinner. He nodded, and walked off, whistling.

All I remember from that night were the horrible cries of my brother. I got up and walked to his room to find my mother standing over him. Something wasn't right. My mother was bent over, and eating something. "Mother, what's wrong?" I asked. The only reply was a feral growl as she lunged at me. I was terrified, her mouth dripping blood and bits of flesh, her pretty hands torn apart by the claws that had sprouted from her fingers. She was almost upon me when I heard a massive BANG, and smelled gunpowder. My father stood behind me, a rifle in his hand, a grim look on his face. "Sarah, you have to get out of here. We all have the plague, all of us but you. You must go!" I looked at my father, and saw that he was falling to the ground, a sleepy, dull look already in eyes. I turned and ran, out of my own home, taking nothing but the dress I wore and whatever was in my pockets. I ran down the street, and saw in the light of the full moon a figure approaching me. "help me!" I cried out, but he did not respond. He was close to me when I saw the blood on his mouth, and the blank expression he wore. I ran as fast as I could around him and towards the town hall. I heard a clamor ahead, and the clanking of metal. I saw that in the town square were an assembly of huddled people, and defending the three rough roads into the city were a small number of footmen. I ran in between the two guarding my street, and they shot out their swords as soon as I passed, killing the undead monster that had been following me silently. I looked back for a moment, then joined the huddled people. The sound of many feet walking could be heard in the distance, coming toward us from the north road. One of the footmen spoke hopefully, "It must be reinforcements! Maybe they will help us leave this town!" He spoke to soon. Coming down the road were not clanking soldiers, but more rotting bodies. The stench was terrible. I knew that these could not have been infected tonight, they were too rotted. They moved much more deftly, some on all fours, hunched. They were ghouls. The captain of the town defense yelled out, "Everyone to the Northern road! Defend the people!" The nearest soldier, a man that had just been given armor to be militia, gulped, and joined the troops.

The undead growled and groaned with bloodlust, and when they came close, they launched themselves at the defenders, surprising them and killing three of them. I could only watch as they tore the fallen men apart, consuming their bodies swiftly, while the rest fought the remaining humans. The captain yelled once more. "All return to the town hall! We'll hold out there!" I scrambled quickly into the building, and the footmen and militia retreated to the hall. The undead consumed the three fallen footmen, before shambling towards the town center. I counted them swiftly. There were twelve of them in all. The town hall was defended by a measly three footmen, the captain, and four militiamen. Only four women had not contracted the plague, and six children. They huddled together in the town center, praying and hoping the footmen could fend off the undead, though they knew the chances were slim.

Four ghouls launched themselves onto a militiaman without warning. He fell to the ground, and they cut him to ribbons with their sharp claws. The rest of the defenders swung at them with whatever weapons they had. The captain chopped the head off of one ghoul, and two footmen managed to bring down another. Three of the militia chopped up another, but the fourth militiaman was not present. I looked around, and saw him in the corner, barely fending off a fourth ghoul. He sliced off one of it's arms and gave a smile of triumph, only to fall down, dead, when the ghoul killed him with it's other hand.

The captain ran and killed the ghoul, but the man was already long dead. He spoke grimly, "All militia, grab the guns and stand behind us, we'll make a shield wall." And so the militia pulled guns off of the wall, and loaded them as well as they could, trying to figure out how they worked. The footmen and captain put out their shields, their swords pointed forward underneath.

Without warning, another force of ghouls scrambled through the door. Four of them attacked the footmen, engaging them in combat. The other four scrambled up the walls, climbing towards the militia.

One of the militiamen was still trying to load the gun. A ghoul landed on top of him, knocking him down, and tearing at his intestines with its claws. The second man tried to fire the gun at the ghoul, but it didn't go off. He brought the hilt down on the ghoul's head, caving in it's skull. The other three ghouls piled on top of him, and tore him to bits. The last man pointed his gun a a ghoul's head, and fired, blowing it's brains out. The other two immediately launched them selves onto him, pulling him down and slaying him.

The captain pulled his sword out of a ghoul, and knelt down, feeling for his comrade's pulse. It was not there. He looked around. All of his men were dead. He turned just in time to be knocked down by two ghouls. One of them shoved it's merciless claws into his gut, the other swiped his face. With a roar he slammed the first one on the head with the hilt of his sword. It fell to the ground, and he impaled it's head with his sword. His eyes were blurred with blood, and he could barely see as the second one shoves it's claws through his head.

It growled horribly, falling upon his body and beginning to consume him. I watched in horror as it wiped it's mouth and began to shamble slowly toward us. It shambled up to one terrified woman, and all she could do was stare as it disembowled her. She fell to the ground, dead. It turned to me. I was frozen in terror, but as it shambled to me, my instinct took over. I jumped up and ran, around the ghoul and out of the town hall. It did not chase me, and I heard cries of terror and pain from behind me as I ran, the women and chilldren crying out in pain as their lives were violently ended, and they were powerless to act, frozen with fear.

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