[8]
Fenrir growled with mounting frustration. He had believed he'd gone to the western side of the city. However, he had to dodge quickly a few obstacles. The wolf reasoned this must have been where it went off course. Yes... The Great White Wolf does not make such mistakes easily. Fenrir followed the wall of mismatched wooden buildings until he came to an opening. A small alley that was just wide enough for him to squeeze his large frame through. He took that opening and trotted through.
One he passed through the first street, Fenrir was relieved to see the air clear up slightly. While the storm blew overhead, the cramped layout of the slums made it hard for the wind to blow through. However, it also made it hard for Fenrir to speed through it. The shacks around him varied in construction drastically. One home would be a single box-like construction and leave him unimpeded; another would be a two-story slightly leaning hazard with covers.
Nothing was uniform, and nothing made sense - much to Fenrir's mounting anger as he slithered down the snaking street. After a minute of navigating the labyrinth of shacks, Fenrir noticed the emptiness of it all. He could hear... Things. They were in the shacks, but none of it sounded like humans. He also couldn't hear the sound of fire. With the storm here, it was a given that fires would be sprouting around.
But there was none.
A light layer of snow covered the ground. It was well beaten and freshly used by many, but there was no one... Fenrir stopped to access the bad feeling that was welling in his stomach. He smelled dead.
"Why did--" Layla spoke up, but was cut short by a blood-curling shriek.
As if responding to Fenrir's instinct, or Layla's voice, several figures exploded out of the shacks around them. Their calls were nothing human, and they smelled of death. Fenrir didn't hesitate. He did not fight. He ran.
Layla screamed as the monsters scrambling after them. Their in-human calls stirred the nests. And more undead began to burst from the homes around them. Fenrir barreled through the tight corridors haphazardly. One corner, Fenrir took too fast. He slid on the frozen ground, barreled through the shack. He fought hard to keep himself from turning over and harming Layla. Though, she was bleeding from splinters already. A nasty cut had appeared on her upper left arm.
To his luck, this had put him on the edge of the slums. In the distance, he could see the rise of uniform buildings. Without pause, the moment he caught his traction, he barreled towards it... And the undead was there too. In fact, the undead was still fighting against the living. Fires raged around them. The smoke pulled away by the fierce wind above. Blood colored the snow. So much blood that all the new snow became red.
Bodies littered the streets. All of them had their heads destroyed.
Fenrir continued, and Layla listened to the screams that began to build around them. Men. Women. Children. None were spared from the horrible nightmares that had appeared in the whiteout. However, neither did the middle-class district die without a peep. People were fighting in their homes. People were fighting in the streets. On their roofs. Fires rage across the homes along with the undead.
They fought with all their might. A fruitless endeavor Fenrir mocked. The undead was quickly building in numbers, and it was just a question of time. The undead did not tire. The living did. And block by block, the destruction continued. No one spared the large wolf much attention, only startled screams. They were not the threats right now.
Soon, Fenrir made it onto the main road where the living were rushing towards the city. Fenrir followed suit, much to their dismay. It was only when Layla sat up did people stopped screaming and just continued their mad dash to the city gates. Yet again, misfortune struck when the gates were not open. The massive crowd called out to the guards above, but no one appeared.
"We should have gone in when they told us!" A woman cried
"They're just going to let us die!?" A man yelled.
"Momm!" A child cried.