The zombies rushed forward like linebackers, but he was ready. He’d burst through the door, sword drawn, and before the first rusted halberd could flay him, had already parried it into the path of the second.
I didn’t think they would stop him, per se, but I ground my teeth at their weary, sloppy swings. Such are things without souls. Still, it took him time, time to hack and dodge and scream. Finally, he stood over the little band of undead soldiers, panting like a cat, his eyes glaring at me.
“Fine work,” I said, shifting on my ancient throne.
Tale Told 