Ronin's rest...
The gathering had begun, the black candles have been lit and the chanting filled a cool night's air. A group of necromancer aimed to bring back the long lost warrior of a once powerful clan back from the grave. His ancient remains have been put into place, and the magic was just right that night.
It wasn't long before the candle's flames turned to black and a dark energy started imbuing the remains. It was a sort of purple glow, meaning the spell was going according to plan...Not for long though. What ended up occurring was the purple shifted to a fiery red, brimstone even. Something from the other end was pulling the gateway from the "Plane of souls" to Hell itself.
"Stop the spell! STOP THE RITUAL!" Their leader shouted all too late, the remains ended up exploding in every direction, even putting bone shrapnel a few of the followers, others got burned by hell fire. After the flames eventually finished their display of chaos, a figure stood among the humans.
A warrior? No. A force to be reckoned with? Perhaps. It was none other than Creed, the zombie...With his pants down, and his hand around his undead junk...No really. Creed had been pleasuring himself to a Candarian demon from below, having had his soul condemned to hell after being killed as a zombie by one clawed mutant. "Oh god, tell me Evil Dead was real again-...Wait...THE F*CK!?" The zombie yelled, actually angered by not getting his action.
Looking down was all he needed to know that he was in fact, still a zombie. "Oh..Well I wasn't expecting a new dick or anything." Sarcasm dripped from his already drooling mouth, choosing to pull up his pants (though he wouldn't care either way) and observed the scene around him.
"Orgy? Nah, no way. There has to at least be an ugly chick for this to be one of my things.." Creed pondered to himself, tapping at his loose chin flesh. While doing so, he failed to notice a lone cultist with a long sword, and even failed to notice the man running him through the chest with it, unable to still feel pain. "...OH! COME ON! I'm back for like ten seconds and someone is all like-"
Creed turned around, pulling the sword's grip from the man as well, glaring at him with his dead eyes and a scratchy, forcefully voice. "OH NO! ZOMBIEEEEEEEE!"The ghoul grabbed the man with little effort, his muscle constantly overworking themselves like a human in an adrenalin rush. Jagged teeth dug into flesh like a spade in dirt, blood gushing into Creed's nostril.
It made him sneeze, forcing the bleeding out human to collapse even faster. That isn't what took him off though, it was the fact that his sword wound started to heal, HEAL. The excitement didn't last long though, Creed discovered the wound was merely reverted back to it's necrotic state from when he was just brought back.
"Holy shit! I can heal to be the zombie I always was...What a load of f*cking shit! Thanks for the lame power, Hell...." The pervert scoffed and started walking down the stone steps, but was quickly halted when he saw the man he bit had already come back as a zombie...With intelligence like himself...
"*Gasp!* Wh-Wha!? Why do I feel like this!?" The cultist looked down at himself, but was not afraid. Due to the fact that zombies didn't have souls, he merely smiled at Creed in excitement. "Welcome to my world, Broseph Stalin, see ya around." Creed gave a mocking salute before shambling off, ready to put together what happened to his team the past few months.
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