Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition
Chapter 772 - 772: Story 772: Void Laughter

The echoes of twisted laughter filled the dying streets of Vareth. The Grinning Plague had spread like wildfire, and those caught in its embrace laughed until their throats bled, until their ribs cracked from the force of their mirth, until their eyes rolled back in a ghastly euphoria.

At the city's ruined gates, Selene Nocturna stood tall, her tattered cloak billowing as she admired her work. The pale moonlight kissed her decayed skin, highlighting the eerie beauty of the necromancer as she traced her blackened fingers across the cool iron of her war scythe.

Behind her, The Rotting Cathedral's acolytes whispered their incantations, calling forth new horrors from the depths of undeath. The once-holy clergy of Vareth had been reworked into something far worse—mouths stitched into hideous grins, their once-pious eyes now pits of black ichor.

Selene smiled, stepping over the twitching body of a former nobleman, his silken robes now stained with filth and blood. He grinned up at her, his lips split, his laughter faltering into a desperate, choked gurgle.

"Shh," Selene whispered, crouching beside him. She cupped his face, her touch like ice. "You've had your fun. Time to rest."

With a single fluid motion, she dragged her sharpened nail across his throat. A **gasp—**then silence. His smile remained, frozen in an eternal, joyless rictus.

A presence stirred behind her.

Veylin the Hollow, her Plaguebound Knight, knelt at her side, his rusted armor clinking softly. His voice was a hollow rasp, devoid of life, yet bound to her will.

"The palace remains sealed, my Widow. The king's mages are burning your plague from the air."

Selene's laughter rang softly, amusement flickering in her decayed golden eyes.

"How sweet. Do they truly believe they can burn away my love?" She sighed, stretching her fingers, greenish necrotic energy swirling in her palms. "Let them struggle, Veylin. I enjoy watching the desperate claw at their doom."

Veylin nodded, his once-noble face now hidden beneath a mask of iron and rot.

The city's inner walls loomed in the distance, the final barrier before the royal palace. But Selene was patient—her work was an art, not a mindless slaughter.

She turned her gaze toward the flickering torches along the palace ramparts. The king's forces stood rigid, their expressions grim. Unlike the infected masses below, they were not smiling.

"Oh, dear king," Selene whispered, her voice carrying on the foul wind. "I will teach you how to smile."

She raised a hand, and the air hummed with dark power.

A new curse slithered from her lips.

The palace walls groaned.

And the laughter began anew.