Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

In the heart of the ancient forest, where the trees grew tall enough to touch the heavens, there was a legend of a creature feared and revered by all. They called him Kraath, the Sky Guardian, a being born from the union of the wind and the earth.

His form was that of a warrior, with the head and wings of a falcon, his body covered in bronze feathers that gleamed under the sun, and eyes that burned with the fire of the sun’s core.

Kraath stood as the protector of the forest, a sacred place untouched by the hands of men. For centuries, his people, the Avians, lived in peace, high in the canopies, hidden from the prying eyes of those who sought to destroy nature for their gain. They were a proud and noble race, bound to the elements and devoted to the balance of life.

Kraath, their leader, was the fiercest among them—an immortal being who had seen generations rise and fall.

But the peace they had known was now threatened.

A warlord from the far southern lands, driven by greed and hunger for power, had marched his army into the forest. His men had cut down trees, burned the ground, and built machines to tear the earth apart. The balance that Kraath and his people had maintained for so long was now crumbling.

Kraath watched from his perch high above the forest as smoke curled into the sky. His talons dug into the thick bark of an ancient tree, his wings twitching with restrained fury. His people had pleaded for him to act, to stop the invaders before it was too late. But Kraath knew the cost of war. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

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Violence had a way of spreading, like a wildfire, and once unleashed, it would devour everything in its path.

The invaders continued their destruction, and finally, Kraath could wait no longer.

With a powerful cry that echoed through the skies, Kraath dove from the treetops, his massive wings slicing through the air. The wind howled in response to his call, and the forest seemed to awaken. Trees bent under his command, their branches striking at the invaders as he descended upon them. The warlord’s army, once so confident, now trembled in fear at the sight of the Sky Guardian.

Kraath landed in the midst of the chaos, his talons tearing through the earth. His eyes, burning with the fire of his ancestors, locked onto the warlord. The battle was swift and brutal. Kraath was a force of nature, his strength unmatched by any mortal man. He moved with the grace of a predator, his tomahawk-like claws slicing through the air. The warlord, no matter how strong, was no match for him.

When the dust settled, Kraath stood over the fallen, his chest heaving with the exertion of battle. The invaders were defeated, but the forest lay scarred. Kraath turned his eyes to the sky, knowing that the battle for balance was never truly over.

He spread his wings and took flight, vowing to protect the forest until his final breath.