The Genesis of the Dead

The shell turned around and focused his eyes on the purple-eyed skeleton standing before him. The skeleton now donned the luxurious robe, which looked comically ill-suited on its bony frame. The shell stared intently for a moment, wondering if he had truly heard a voice, until...

"Ma-s-ter?" The skeleton actually spoke!

"You can speak?" the shell asked, astonished. He activated his newly acquired ability to see the strange lights again and observed that the skeleton was somehow manipulating the greenish light, causing it to swirl around its throat.

"Y-es I ca-n, m-ast-e-r," the skeleton replied slowly, enunciating each syllable with visible effort.

"That's remarkable. How did you manage this?"

"I'm u-ns-ure. I am us-ing the l-i-ght-s..."

The shell contemplated for a moment before responding, "Can these lights be used for anything else?"

"I do n-ot kno-w, m-as-ter. Ho-w-ev-er, fo-r som-e un-ex-pli-ca-ble re-ason, I fe-el the li-ghts can be ap-pli-ed in v-ar-ious ways. Th-ey are fas-cin-at-ing."

"I see. I've had a similar experience. It seems as though these abilities are tied to instinct; for now, trust in those instincts," the shell advised, reflecting on how he had known instinctively how to create his forces.

"Un-der-stood, ma-ster."

"Good. Prepare to move."

"To wh-ere?"

"I..." the shell paused, realizing he didn't have a clear destination in mind. He needed to expand his forces and grow stronger, but he was uncertain of the best path forward. The dense forest around him offered limited opportunities, with little more than wild animals to be found. A proper strategy was necessary.

"Per-hap-s th-is m-ight hel-p, ma-ster," the skeleton suggested, retrieving a parchment from the robe's pocket.

"What is this?" the shell asked, taking the paper and glancing at it.

"I be-lieve it's a m-ap. The sm-all ma-n was us-ing it to nav-ig-ate."

"Interesting..." The shell scrutinized the parchment closely. Though he wasn't familiar with the markings, he managed to draw some conclusions. His army was currently deep within a forest, and the nearest settlement lay to the northeast. Judging by the direction of the rising sun, he oriented himself accordingly.

The settlement appeared to be larger than both the village where he had awakened and the bandit camp he had recently vanquished. This posed both potential rewards and significant risks. A larger population meant more potential soldiers to claim if he triumphed, but achieving victory was not guaranteed. Depending on the settlement's defenses, he could be walking into a trap.

Charging in recklessly, as he had done before, would not suffice this time. Strategy, reconnaissance, and well-planned tactics were essential. Without information, success was impossible. His forces would first need to locate and observe the settlement before any action could be taken.

Having decided on a course, the shell turned his attention back to the eyeless corpse on the ground, a thought occurring to him.

"What did you do with the eyes?" he asked suddenly.

The skeleton appeared startled by the abrupt question and looked down, appearing dejected. "I fa-iled t-he fi-rst tim-e."

"Failed?"

"I tr-ied to m-ove the lig-hts, bu-t du-e to my ine-xp-erien-ce... th-ey be-came un-sta-ble, and we-ll... plop." The skeleton avoided eye contact as it spoke.

"Plop?" The shell repeated, intrigued by the odd word.

"Plop," the skeleton said again, pointing at a pile of strange goop on the ground.

"Ah, plop." The shell nodded, understanding. He could just barely discern a pupil among the mess.

Satisfied, he turned his focus to expanding his forces. He channeled the familiar sensation to the remains scattered around the battlefield, hoping to resurrect long-dead soldiers. To his disappointment, none of them rose. The shell surmised that they had been dead for far too long, or their bodies were too incomplete to reanimate. He would need to conduct further experiments when circumstances allowed.

Turning his attention back to the lifeless man, the shell directed his energy once more. This time, the outcome was unexpected. He had envisioned the man becoming another skeleton or zombie, but instead, the body underwent a grotesque transformation.

The corpse convulsed and contorted as its arms extended, forming an extra joint. Sharp claws erupted from its fingertips. Its jaw unhinged and expanded, with its teeth lengthening into jagged fangs. The creature did not stand; instead, it dropped to all fours, using its double-jointed arms for support and moving like a beast. Standing around five feet tall, its decayed skin hung loosely from its frame. Though eyeless, its ears twitched, and it moved toward its creator with an obedient gait, bowing its head.

Momentarily surprised, the shell quickly recognized the creature—a ghoul. Unlike zombies, ghouls possessed distinct differences. While both tore at flesh with their teeth, ghouls did not multiply in the same way. Their bites, however, were highly infectious and deadly.

The primary advantage of a ghoul was speed. Zombies were slow and lumbering, but ghouls moved at terrifying speeds, utilizing all four limbs. Their primary weakness lay in their fragile defense. Hollow bones and light skin made them swift but vulnerable. Though they shared the resilience of the shell's other minions, their durability was lacking.

Ghouls also suffered from blindness, relying on their sense of smell and hearing to track prey. Under the guidance of a leader with vision, they could be formidable assets, but left to themselves, their effectiveness diminished.

The shell pondered how to incorporate this new addition into his ranks. Proper coordination and oversight would be key to maximizing the ghoul's potential. With that in mind, he issued orders to his army, preparing to lead them toward the larger settlement.