Mais les vampires n’avaient pas l’intention de s
Mais les vampires n’avaient pas l’intention de se diriger vers le château. De plus, ils venaient d’entendre des bruits qui osaient s’aventurer dans la forêt. Des aventuriers qui vont en avoir pour leur grade. Vont tous se faire bouffer les uns après les autres, aucun ne sortira vivant d’ici.
The moon, a malevolent eye in the inky black sky, cast long, skeletal shadows across the ancient forest. The air hung heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and something else, something feral, that prickled at the back of the adventurers’ necks.
“They’re just stories, lads,” Finn, the burly leader, chuckled, trying to quell the growing unease in his companions. “Tales told by scared villagers to keep the young ones in line.”
But even Finn felt a tremor of fear as they ventured deeper into the heart of the forest. They had come for the legendary Bloodstone, said to be hidden within the crumbling ruins of an ancient castle, a relic coveted by collectors and whispered about in hushed tones.
Their journey had been uneventful so far, save for the unnerving silence. The birds, usually chirping with morning exuberance, were oddly absent. Even the rustling of leaves seemed muted, replaced by a chilling stillness that pressed down on them.
Then, they heard it. A low, guttural growl that seemed to emanate from the very earth itself. It sent a shiver down their spines, a primal fear that resonated in their very souls.
“What was that?” whispered Liam, his voice barely a tremor.
Finn, though his face remained stoic, felt a cold sweat break out on his brow. He pulled his sword free from its sheath, the polished steel gleaming in the moonlight.
“Stay close,” he growled, his voice hoarse with apprehension. “And keep your eyes peeled.”
As they crept forward, their footsteps muffled by the dense undergrowth, the growls grew louder, closer. They began to hear other sounds now, the scraping of claws against stone, the wet, sucking slurps that sent chills down their spines.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, towering over them. Its eyes glowed red in the moonlight, reflecting the infernal flames that licked at the edge of the forest. It was a vampire, its skin pale and lifeless, its fangs long and sharp.
The adventurers screamed, their bravado crumbling in the face of true horror. They scattered, desperate to escape the clutches of the creature. But it was too late. The vampire, followed by a dozen others who had been lurking unseen, pounced.
The forest became a scene of brutal carnage. The adventurers, their swords clanging against the vampires’ unnatural strength, fell one by one. Each kill was met with a guttural roar of triumph, a symphony of screams and the sickening crunch of bone.
Finn, despite his valiant efforts, was no match for the vampires. He watched in horror as his friends were torn to shreds, their blood staining the forest floor a crimson red. He was cornered, his back against a gnarled tree, his sword dripping with the blood of his enemies.
But the vampire, its fangs gleaming like daggers in the moonlight, was relentless. It lunged, its fangs sinking into Finn’s throat. As darkness claimed him, a single thought echoed in his mind: “They weren’t coming for the castle… they were waiting for us.”
The forest returned to its eerie silence, the only sound the dripping of blood and the wind whistling through the skeletal trees. The vampires, their thirst satiated, vanished back into the shadows, leaving behind a macabre tableau of torn bodies and shattered dreams.
The Bloodstone, hidden deep within the ruins of the castle, remained untouched, a chilling reminder of the terrifying price of greed and the deadly cost of venturing into the heart of darkness.
