Scene — The Dead Do Not Stay Dead
The corpse behind the elder sister moved.
Then another.
Then hundreds.
Every dead thing on the mountain slowly turned toward the living.
The red moon hung overhead.
The curse had begun.
The elder sister backed away.
The first corpse lunged.
She stumbled aside.
Its hands clawed through empty air.
Another corpse attacked from behind.
She barely avoided it.
The mountain erupted into movement.
The dead weren't wandering.
They were hunting.
The spider reacted.
Its enormous body lowered.
One of the corpses rushed toward it.
The spider struck.
Its jaws opened.
The corpse disappeared between them.
The creature swallowed.
Then—
another corpse climbed over its leg.
The spider crushed it.
More surrounded the beast.
The spider's hunger took over.
It began feeding.
One body.
Then another.
Then another.
Its jaws tore through the dead.
For several seconds—
it looked unstoppable.
Then the first corpse it had eaten moved.
The spider stopped.
Something shifted inside its abdomen.
The creature recoiled.
The corpse emerged again.
Whole.
Unbroken.
The spider attacked it a second time.
It tore the corpse apart.
The pieces fell.
Then began moving.
Hands crawled toward one another.
Bones pulled together.
Flesh followed.
The body reformed.
The elder sister stared.
"They regenerate..."
The Traveler heard her.
He slowly pushed one hand against the ground.
His body was still unbearably heavy.
But he moved.
Barely.
The spider screamed.
The dead swarmed it.
It attacked wildly.
Eight legs crushed bodies.
Its jaws tore through shoulders.
Its claws ripped apart skulls.
Nothing mattered.
Every corpse returned.
Every wound closed.
Every broken bone rebuilt itself.
The spider tried to retreat.
The dead followed.
One climbed onto its back.
Another seized a leg.
Another buried its teeth into its abdomen.
The spider thrashed violently.
The mountain shook.
But the dead didn't stop.
The Traveler pushed harder.
His arm trembled.
His knee touched the ground.
He raised his head.
The spider disappeared beneath the mass of corpses.
Its roar became muffled.
Then—
a leg broke.
Another.
The creature collapsed.
The dead swarmed over it.
The spider fought.
Desperately.
Its jaws snapped.
Its claws struck.
But there were too many.
The corpses tore into it.
The creature's screams echoed across the mountain.
Then—
silence.
The spider disappeared beneath them.
The dead consumed it.
Completely.
But even as they fed—
the spider's body tried to regenerate.
A severed leg twitched.
A section of its abdomen began reforming.
The corpses immediately tore it apart again.
The cycle continued.
Regeneration.
Destruction.
Regeneration.
Destruction.
The Blood Moon did not allow death to remain finished.
The Traveler finally pushed himself onto both knees.
His breathing was heavy.
He looked toward the swarm.
Then toward the red moon.
Then at the elder sister.
She was still alive.
Barely standing.
The Traveler slowly rose.
His legs shook beneath him.
But he stood.
The dead stopped.
Hundreds of empty eyes turned toward him.
The Traveler stared back.
For a moment—
nothing moved.
Then one corpse stepped forward.
The Traveler's eyes narrowed.
His fingers curled.
He was exhausted.
Injured.
Still barely able to stand.
And now—
the entire mountain of resurrected dead had noticed him.
The red moon brightened overhead.
The curse had found its next target.
Chapter 156 — The Hands of the Dead
The first corpse stepped forward.
Then another.
Then another.
Within seconds—
the entire mountain moved.
Hundreds of dead bodies began walking toward the Traveler.
Their feet dragged through the flowers.
Their empty eyes reflected the red moon.
The Traveler stood motionless.
His body still felt heavy.
His injured arm hung at his side.
He could barely breathe.
Yet he didn't retreat.
The elder sister stood several steps behind him.
She looked across the mountain.
There were too many.
Then—
a hand seized her ankle.
She looked down.
A corpse had emerged from the earth beside her.
Before she could react—
another hand grabbed her leg.
Then another caught her wrist.
"Traveler!"
He turned.
Three corpses were pulling her backward.
She struck at them.
One fell.
Another immediately replaced it.
The dead began surrounding her.
Their hands seized her arms.
Her shoulders.
Her legs.
They pulled.
She dropped to one knee.
"Let go!"
The Traveler moved.
One step.
His body nearly collapsed.
He forced himself forward.
Another corpse grabbed the elder sister's cloak.
She was dragged several feet.
The Traveler's eyes hardened.
He tried to run.
His injured body refused.
The dead continued pulling her toward the mass.
She fought desperately.
Her fingers clawed into the earth.
"Traveler!"
He reached toward her.
His hand trembled.
He was still too far away.
A corpse seized her other arm.
Another wrapped its hands around her waist.
She disappeared beneath a wall of bodies.
The Traveler's expression changed.
The red moon reflected in his eyes.
The dead surrounding him stopped.
They were no longer attacking.
They were waiting.
As though they understood something.
As though they knew exactly what they had taken from him.
The Traveler looked toward the elder sister.
Only her hand remained visible between the bodies.
Then—
even that disappeared.
The Traveler lowered his head.
His breathing became quiet.
His fingers slowly curled.
The mountain remained silent.
The dead waited.
Then the Traveler raised his eyes.
Something had changed in them.
Not rage.
Something colder.
He took one step forward.
This time—
his body did not collapse.
Chapter 157 — When the World Went Dark
The Traveler walked forward.
One step.
Then another.
The dead opened around him.
Not willingly.
He forced his way through.
A corpse reached for his shoulder.
He struck it aside.
Another seized his cloak.
He tore himself free.
A third grabbed his injured arm.
The Traveler twisted and drove it into the ground.
It stopped moving.
Then began rising again.
He kept walking.
The elder sister was somewhere inside the mass.
He could hear her.
Faintly.
"Traveler!"
He moved toward her voice.
The dead surrounded him.
Hands seized his clothing.
His arms.
His legs.
He fought them off.
Again.
Again.
Again.
But there were too many.
One fell.
Three replaced it.
The Traveler struck another.
It returned.
He pushed forward.
The elder sister saw him.
She fought against the bodies surrounding her.
She tore one hand away.
Then another.
She forced herself upright.
"Here!"
The Traveler turned toward her voice.
He reached out.
Their hands nearly met.
Then—
the dead surged between them.
The elder sister was pulled backward.
"No!"
She kicked free.
Grabbed another corpse.
Threw it aside.
She reached toward him.
Their fingers touched.
For one second—
they had each other.
Then dozens of hands seized the Traveler from behind.
His body jerked backward.
He fought.
Hard.
His fist struck.
His elbow followed.
He broke free of one grip.
Another replaced it.
A hand caught his shoulder.
Another locked around his waist.
Another seized his arm.
The Traveler twisted violently.
The mass pulled harder.
He couldn't see the elder sister anymore.
He could only hear her.
"Traveler!"
He fought toward the sound.
Then—
hands reached his face.
He tried to pull away.
Too late.
The pressure became unbearable.
The world flashed white.
Then—
nothing.
His vision disappeared.
The Traveler staggered.
His hands instinctively rose toward his face.
The dead dragged him downward.
He struck at them blindly.
One fell.
Another grabbed him.
He swung again.
Nothing.
He no longer knew where the enemy was.
No sky.
No red moon.
No mountain.
No elder sister.
Only darkness.
The Traveler stumbled.
His knee hit the ground.
The dead pulled at him from every direction.
He tried to stand.
His body failed.
He fell forward.
The earth struck beneath him.
Silence.
The Traveler remained motionless.
His eyes were closed.
The world had become completely dark.
The elder sister broke through the bodies and reached him.
She dropped beside him.
"Traveler!"
No response.
She touched his shoulder.
His body was still warm.
Still breathing.
But he did not move.
Around them—
the dead continued walking beneath the Blood Moon.
And somewhere inside the darkness of his mind—
a pair of purple eyes opened.