The First Coronation

Blood splattered across Clare's face, and she hadn't realized from where—or that it was even blood at all. After rubbing the liquid from her eyes, a body without a head collapsed to the ground before her. The whole group stopped to process what had just happened, realizing too late the implication of the matter.   Someone called out to run—they were not alone in the forest—the Risen were here. At first, everyone agreed, taking off in the direction they were once walking in. Slaughter awaited those that led. They were torn to shreds without even being able to see the enemy. Those remaining slowed down, grouping up in a circle in hopes of organized strength. Clare, however, remained rooted in place, her body and mind at odds. The shock of the gruesome death of the first victim still clung to her. Her eyes were wide as she struggled to process what was happening.   For the first time, the group managed to see the Risen. It narrowly missed the head of an older teenage boy, who Clare recognized as Teo, and landed in a crouch facing him. Then it stood up straight. It was at least a foot taller than Clare, and from behind it, she could see blood dripping off a long-bladed spear. As if in a rush, it screeched before swinging its weapon, slashing the boy's arm to the bone. Then, it stopped. The Risen couldn't push any further. Teo yelped at first, but as he realized the delay, he grabbed the spear's hilt with his other arm. The beast pulled weakly in response. At that moment, a collective realization was made: this Risen wasn't in peak condition. These creatures were rumored to be freakishly strong, yet this one couldn't even pull away from a teenager. Exchanging nervous glances at each other, the group slowly approached at first, and then they pounced.   It seemed the Shelter had a chance for a moment, as they got about six or seven hits in. Then, the Risen surrendered its weapon. Teo couldn't handle the spear's weight and dropped it. It tore straight down his arm. He collapsed from the pain, and the Risen shook off the others. Their attacks stopped connecting. Not even feints got close. One by one, it bit, struck, and clawed any who approached, all while completely untouched. In a minute, all that remained were either injured, dead, or frozen in place. It picked up Teo by his neck and opened its mouth to bite.   Teo looked everywhere around him. For something to fight back with—or for someone available to help. His eyes met Clare's. At first, he mouthed at her to help, but after recognizing her condition, he stopped and closed his eyes.   As the Risen's teeth sunk into Teo's shoulder, his cries pulled Clare from her daze. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her vision narrowed. She had to do something. She had no weapon, but its back was exposed.   Clare started running towards the Risen. She hardly had a plan; she just wanted to get it off Teo. It heard her footsteps and turned just barely too late. Clare latched onto its back, pulled herself forward, and bit at its neck. Compared to the stupor she was in previously, Clare was overwhelmed by sensations. Its blood filled her mouth, and a disgusting taste and stench of iron sent shivers down her spine. Then it screamed. The shriek quaked through her body as it desperately tried to dislodge her. Its twists and spins made her dizzy, and an urge to let go started to overpower her.   At that moment, the Risen contorted in a way that let her see the injured she was fighting for. Blood stained the forest floor, decorated with bones and bodies. Some of them, she hardly spoke to in passing. Others she learned, ate, and played with daily. She spit out its blood, and a second course of energy filled her. She doubled her grip on the monster's back and bit once more.   The Risen's voice started to sputter. Its struggles grew feeble, and within minutes, it dropped to the ground. It had died. Even so, Clare kept gnawing at it in a frenzy, having long abandoned thoughts of anything else.   This was only interrupted by a sharp pain flashing down her spine like lightning. She pulled away from its lifeless neck, startled.   What now?   Then, a lacerating pain, like a thousand blazing tendrils, tore across her back. It was as if someone had sliced open her flesh and poured scorching lava into the exposed crevices. She gasped for air as her every nerve wailed.   Was she being attacked again?   She whipped her head behind her between flashes of pain.   Nothing.   Tears clouded her vision, mixing across her face with the blood and filth of the forest. They dripped down her throat through her ragged breaths. She could still clearly hear the shrieks of her opponent, and they only seemed to get louder with time. The pain scorched on, forcing rapid, short breaths. She could hear someone from the Shelter calling out to her, but she couldn't respond.   As the carving sensation reached Clare's spine, she could bear it no longer. After one last cry, she collapsed face-first onto her foe.    Even in her final moment of lucidity, the cacophony of beastly screeching intensified.