A Fertőzött (The Infected)
Long ago, in a different time, smaller villages often employed “The Koruma” or temporary guard.
These men were often the biggest and best warriors or labourers in the area. The villages were so small they could not afford their own army so the Guards were assigned as protectors of the village.
More often than not, once the Guard had settled into his new role, he would become greedy, the power would go to his head and he would suddenly and violently take charge appointing himself Lord of the village.
This was the case of Godfrey Hellbinder. He had been born a big baby. Nearly twelve pounds. When he was five he looked ten and when he was ten he could beat any man in an arm wrestle. His father saw the potential and hired a roving Knight to train him in the art of battle. Godfrey became a force to be reckoned with and also very arrogant. So arrogant in fact that he decided to challenge the very Knight who had trained him. In a bloody and no rules fight to the death Godfrey slayed the Knight in front of the cheering villagers. It was only a few days later that Godfrey was made Guard of the Village.
Over the next few years Godfrey did his job very well and protected his charges against man, beast and ghoul. The villagers rejoiced, made statues of Godfrey and even sang songs about him.
He soon appointed himself as Lord of the village and that was the beginning of the end. He applied new laws to his new lands and higher taxes. He took young maidens to be his wives but they were more like slaves. He had any young man who looked to challenge him executed in the centre of the village. He took whatever he wanted from the farms and he slowly started to become fat and gluttonous.
Even though Godfrey had everything he wanted he still yearned for more. More power, more wealth, more of everything!
Some weeks later a strange hermit like man known as the Decay Shaman came shuffling into the village. He called for the Lord. Godfrey laughed at the old man when he saw him and spat at his feet.
“What do you want old man?” Godfrey asked as he chomped into an apple and looked away.
“It’s not what I want my Lord, it’s what I can offer.”
He then beckoned for Godfrey to lean down closer to him so he could whisper into the arrogant Lord’s ear. No one heard what was muttered that day but the effect on the Lord and the town was, almost, immediate.
A day or so later an unearthly fog settled on the village like a vast, thick blanket. It wasn’t long before the villagers started coming out in hives and rashes so sore and itchy that they started to bleed and then became infected. Several of the younger villagers passed away within a week of the fog settling. Some people decided to move away saying the place was cursed but they had already contracted whatever vile plague had infected the village. Their bodies were found strewn along the dusty roads filled with maggots.
Those that stayed did what they could to find cures but it was hopeless. One by one the villagers died with blood gushing from their eyes, noses and ears and vomit erupting from their throats.
All the while the Lord, the village guard seemed only mildly effected. Sores developed on his skin and his muscle turned to bloated fat but he didn’t feel weak at all. Quite the opposite. He felt a sense of strength as though he were immortal. It only took a couple of months before every villager lay dead and rotting in their homes or on the streets.
All but one.
All but the Lord.
Enjoy the pictures…