The Missing Husband

Castus left the children to themselves in the parlor and continued down the stairs leading to what looked like a an abandoned, lit only by a small window covered in grime and cobwebs. Even in the paling light it was a far less pleasant sight than the previous room, which looked like someone took a warhammer to it.

Instead the kitchen had a sinister peace to it. The stone of the hearth and walls was untouched by the years it endured, the lamps had rusted themselves in place, leaving a series of metal fixtures that shed brown flakes with every step. Aside from curiously mild odor given off by the piles of rot that lay hidden it the greyed wooden cupboards, the most off-putting thing in the room was a single iron meat hook in the corner; unrusted and looking barely used while a pig skull still hung from it, staring down the warrior.

The Hylian felt anxious in here, as if ambush were sure to happen here, the hook being too perfect and the skull too large to simply have been left here long ago. Still there was little to be done, he could leave after searching it and the only place a grown Hylian could be hiding was in the pantry...

(Well I sent out a PM asking those who wanted to revive the RP to post here; that was almost 3 weeks ago and noone has, So I'll just keep going unless someone else posts.)

Castus slowly approached the closed door, something in his head kept telling him not to go in there. But fear wasn't something he normally experienced, and had never stopped him before. The moment his hand touched the knob, he flung the rotten chunk of wood open and nearly across the room.

Inside was a human form, burnt to death, the permeating stench of charred flesh revealed the kill to be fresh. The Hylian swore he saw some movement on the ceiling but when he turned to investigate there was nothing there. Stranger still was that the body was burnt so badly that he couldn't even begin to make out its' facial features, yet the wooden shelves showed no signs of fire damage nor was there any sign of the body being moved there.

He'd failed to rescue the missing man, but he could still avenge him on whatever evil remained in the home. Turning away from grizzly scene he proceeded back up the stairs, intent on finding the mysterious murderer.

He searched the mansion's first floor thoroughly, looking for whatever he could find that might be a hint as to what exactly happened here. Each room contained nothing of interest, even the children seeming to have left; either that or taken by whatever force possessed the accursed mansion.

Yet in every room he felt a strange presence, the same one as in the pantry, but throughout the house there was nothing alive, not even a rat. That only raised his suspicions further, it seemed as though something had cleared out the place long before he or anyone else arrived.

Even in the master bedroom, though far more intact than the rest of the house, was still dusty and lifeless. That was the last room, that was place for a person to be in this horrid place. Castus finally bowed his head in defeat, he had failed to save the man or bring that destructive force to justice; without even getting a fight out of it.

That's when the presence grew far stronger than it ever was before. Did it feed off of fear and disappointment? Was its battle mental, not physical? Whatever it was, it was behind him and approaching and he knew he could kill it, even if it wouldn't be the first time it died. The wait still seemed like an eternity, finally a fight and justice in one, one last chance to succeed.

Finally his nerve broke, he couldn't allow himself to be taken by this thing after all, and he swung his fist with all the force he could muster behind him. Rather than hit some being though, he smashed a lantern to the wall, smashing it and spreading a fire around the room.

As the fire spread, Castus panicked before realizing that the fire didn't burn, rather it seemed to restore the damage time had done to the building, and within a few seconds had enclosed the mansion in an orange embrace before "burning out".

Castus crept silently through the old (or rather newish) house, trying to make as little noise on the floor boards. While he was no ninja, the boards seemed sturdy and unbending now, thankfully silencing his steps.

"Papa, I think I hear someone up stairs." spoke a young girl, her voice held the tinge of fear expected of her age. "Nonsense Margerie, who would climb up our house?" replied an old man "And nary a minute ago you said you saw someone down the hill. Is our little home under attack now? Everyone knows we have so little left."

"Yes, Papa"

"Good, now go see if Khan's finished preparing my medicine."

Soon little feet scampered away, in the direction of the downward staircase. With the old man facing away from him and the girl gone, Castus chanced moving closer, trying to figure out if this was an illusion or an actual change in reality. Near the bottom however, a step betrayed his presence with a long creek, and the old man began to turn.

"Margerie you silly girl, what were you doing upstairs? I thought I told y- Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!" howled the old man with what little strength he could muster. Even to Castus it was obvious that the man was sick and near death; likely whatever potions this alchemist cooked up were meant to extend his life or cure him.

"You'd better leave you little thief, before I-" The threat was interrupted by a girl's scream, followed by several crashes and Stalfoses breaking through the living room windows, carrying old or improvised weapons with them. Most were missing limbs, teeth, ribs and other parts; those that were still attached were done so poorly and wobbly, obviously the reanimating magic keeping them together was very weak.

But what these bones lacked in stability, they made up ten-fold in number. Hundreds seemed to move toward the mansion, thankfully most had been crippled by the poor magic and could only crawl or limp forwards.

This was little relief against the ones with two-working legs however (though one lacked any working arms), and blood and bone rained from the undead fighters.

The dead poured through, the first wave consisted mostly of the recently dead, their bodies (mostly) intact and in various stages of decay. These seemed to be the biggest threat that although they lacked the control and precision they had in life, their strength had not wavered, while their ability to shrug off damage and pain had increased dramatically.

Castus immediately got to work, there were at least a few dozen and the only quick way to put them down was to utterly destroy the skull, anything else was solely a temporary solution. The first few re-died with little problem, A solid blow or two to the head was all that was needed, but the others used that time to advance and swarm the would-be savior. In truth, he would simply back up to draw out this advantage, but the old man sat grasping, frozen in fear, maybe felled by it.

As the undead clambered over the window, furniture, and eachother to swarm him. Their sheer numbers proved a challenge, though in truth their simple minds had little how to take advantage of it, or to really take advantage of anything. The fight became particularly intense, with the undead having no restraint or strategy beyond piling on him. By the end, a few dozen bodies lay lifeless (and unlifeless) on the wooden, Castus covered in scratches and mild bites, and the room sprayed with putrescence an inch deep.

For the next few minutes, the only thing the fighter could do was add the contents of his stomach to the mix.