Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The dim, flickering lights of the Crimson Citadel's lower chambers cast eerie shadows as General Viktor 'Bloodfang' Kruger stood over a cold steel table, his combat knife gleaming under the pale glow. His fingers ran along its serrated edge—this blade had spilled more blood than any gun in his arsenal. But tonight, it would serve a greater purpose.

Behind him, Dr. Sylvia 'Plague Mistress' Voss observed silently, her crimson-lipped smirk betraying amusement. "Is this ritual necessary, General? The undead obey you without theatrics."

Kruger didn't look up. "Obedience is fleeting. Loyalty is eternal."

He turned to the kneeling form before him—a freshly turned Sentient Undead Lieutenant, still wearing the tattered uniform of his former allegiance. His eyes, though clouded with death, burned with an unnatural intelligence.

"Do you remember your name, soldier?" Kruger asked, his tone smooth, almost mocking.

The undead's jaw twitched. "C-Captain… Elias Vance…"

Kruger chuckled darkly. "Not anymore." He drove the knife into Vance's palm, pinning his undead flesh to the steel table. The creature hissed in pain, but it did not struggle.

"You are now Revenant-One—the first of my Death Brigade."

Voss watched, intrigued. "And the others?"

Kruger stepped back, allowing the room to reveal itself. Rows of restrained soldiers—each infected, each teetering on the brink of undeath—awaited their fate. His elite strike force would no longer be limited by human fragility. They would be unstoppable.

Kruger pulled the knife free from Vance's hand and slashed his own palm, letting his blood drip onto the undead's wound. The dark veins in Vance's arm pulsed violently as his transformation accelerated. His body twitched, contorted, then stilled. When he rose, his form was stronger, his movements sharper.

Kruger's smirk widened. "Good. Now kneel."

Without hesitation, Revenant-One knelt before his master.

Voss let out an impressed hum. "You've not just created zombies… You've made warriors."

Kruger sheathed his blade. "No. I've made an army."

Beyond the citadel walls, the night screamed with the howls of the undead. Soon, they would march upon their enemies—not as mindless monsters, but as Kruger's finest soldiers.

And when the world burned, he would stand atop the ashes as its Undead Overlord.