#WritcoStoryChallenge
#CoronaVirus
Social isolation had forced an eerie silence upon them. While fear haunted their existence, one question was at the forefront.
When was this going to end?
In a dark, desolate landscape under a stormy sky, an army of undead infernal marches forward. These zombies are grotesque, with decaying flesh and glowing red eyes, wearing tattered remnants of medieval armor. Leading them is a formidable necromancer, cloaked in a dark robe, with an aura of ominous power. His staff is raised high, emanating dark energy, as he commands his horde with sinister resolve. The ground is littered with bones and remnants of past battles, and the air is thick with a sense of doom and despair, accentuating the horror and might of this undead army. It's imperative that everyone else alive must stake woke and not give in to the glaze of the mastermind while he invades the thoughts and actions of the many of us, as we are well doomed and at his mercy. But, there seems to be a faceless factor that remains unaccounted for in this scenery, It's a man of many faces, know not to speak of his presence.
Valar Dohaeris!
#Gameofthrones
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