The Unseen Threat

Ethan's pulse quickened as the growl grew louder, coming from the far side of the village. He pressed his back against the wooden wall of the house, straining to hear any other signs of movement. For a moment, everything was still too still. He peeked around the corner, only to see a shadow dart between buildings.

"Okay, okay, stay calm," he muttered under his breath. "It's probably just a mob… right?"

But something about the situation felt different. The village wasn't just abandoned; it felt… hunted. Ethan moved slowly, keeping low as he crossed the open street toward the village center. He knew he needed to leave, but something gnawed at him a curiosity to know what had happened here.

As he neared the edge of the village, he spotted something in the distance. A figure, standing still, just outside the village's border. Ethan's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't a zombie, nor a skeleton, it looked human, but… off. The figure stood unnaturally still, watching him.

"Is that a villager?" Ethan whispered. "No… it can't be…"

Before he could react, the figure moved, darting out of sight with an unnatural speed.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Ethan said, more to reassure himself than anything else. He took a few cautious steps back, trying to keep an eye on where the figure had disappeared.

Suddenly, he heard a soft thud behind him, like something landing on the ground. He spun around, sword raised, only to find himself face to face with… nothing.

"Alright, you're just getting paranoid," Ethan told himself, though his grip on the sword tightened.

But then, a rustle in the nearby crops caught his attention. Without warning, a crossbow bolt zipped past him, grazing his shoulder.

"Whoa!" Ethan yelped, diving for cover behind a stone wall. "Illagers! Of course!"

A low, sinister laugh echoed through the village, followed by more footsteps. Ethan's heart raced as he crouched behind the wall, his mind racing. He had no idea how many of them were out there, but he wasn't going to wait to find out.

He peeked over the wall just in time to see two figures—pillagers, armed with crossbows , closing in on his position.

"Guess it's time to fight." Ethan gritted his teeth, gripping his sword.

One of the pillagers raised his crossbow and fired. Ethan rolled out of the way, barely dodging the bolt as it shattered against the stone wall. In one swift motion, he charged forward, sword raised. He swung with all his might, the iron blade connecting with the first pillager's chest. It let out a low grunt before collapsing.

The second pillager shouted something unintelligible and raised its weapon again. Ethan reacted quickly, closing the gap between them before the pillager could fire. With a final strike, the second illager fell.

Ethan stood over the fallen mobs, panting, his heart still pounding in his chest. "What the hell are pillagers doing here?"

But there was no time to wonder. The sun was almost gone, and the growls of zombies were starting to rise from the forest surrounding the village. Ethan glanced around, feeling the weight of the night closing in on him.

"I need to get out of here," he muttered, turning back toward the road that led home. But something stopped him, a distant sound, faint but unmistakable.

A bell. Ringing softly in the distance.