Farfield is beset by the undead

Annette's legs shook as she struggled to stay upright, not helped by the walk up the hill so soon after using so much of her energy. Her view of the village was an extremely bleak one. Not only were there more of the wretched creatures like the one she had just dispatched, they had the numbers of a small army, moving through the streets intercepting anything living along the way.

The moonlight as well as the fires, seemingly created by knocked-over oil lamps, illuminated what looked like some of the village militia attempting to fight the horde back with pitchforks, torches and other work implements. In some of the areas behind the zombie wave, it looked like some of the women were being violated out in the open, surrounded by the remnants of their torn clothes. Glad that she couldn't make out any further grotesque details of the acts from such a distance, Annette started her way down the hill towards the quieter part of the village, hoping to link up with the militia's front line and prepared to aid their defence in any way she could. Fighting her exhaustion, she picked up speed as she descended the hill, trying her best to not miss her footing lest she injured herself, a task not helped by the time of day.

Catching herself on the back of a wooden hut, she reached the village proper. Annette had been glancing towards the fight on the way down, but now was incapable of seeing how events were unfolding until she met up with the survivors. To do this, she would have to go through the eerily empty streets on her side of Farfield. She was very conscious of how **** she was with such low energy and while she could attempt a purification ritual to kill another one of the creatures, she couldn't do so without stunning it first to allow her time to finish the rite.

With a big inhale and a few leg stretches, she began to creep between the houses, eyes darting around for moving villagers and zombies alike. Moving past a few houses like this, she eventually quietly called out...

"Hello...? Is anyone still here?" Annette asked, voice barely louder than a whisper

She was met with silence. At least at first...

Annette heard rustling ahead of her. Her eyes widened and she readied herself to sprint into one of the buildings, before pushing anything she could to block the door.

"Annette! I'm so glad you're okay. We really need your help here, one of those rotten fuckers got Vic bad!"

Much to her relief, she did not need to flee as the slim figure of Rosie Steward, the raven-haired barkeep, came out from behind a shed, struggling to prop up a brown haired man Annette also knew as Victor Nicholls, a farmhand slightly older than herself. While a lot of the local men were interested in courting her, Annette considered Victor to be the closest out of all of them. They'd often meet up in the evenings or Annette would go assist with odd jobs around the Nicholls farm, usually so they could maximise their harvest for the season. She caught feelings for him recently when he surprised her with spring flowers and a hamper of field-fresh veg after a particularly rough day at the chapel. Later that night they cooked together, before going up to the hill and gazing at the constellations in the night sky.

The memory of Victor's healthy and strong figure was vastly different to the man in front of her as Rosie struggled to keep him upright. Claws had scratched him in several places on his torso and arms and a large gash was visible down his right leg, leaking blood at an alarming rate. Colour had steadily drained from his face below his dishevelled hair. His expression was pained as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Yet still he opened his mouth after looking towards her.

"Annette... is that you..? ...You're safe... good..." mumbled Victor

Annette rushed over to him, tears welling up in her eyes. The redhead wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could, whilst trying not to cause him discomfort.

"Yes, I'm here Victor. Hold on, you're going to be okay!" the priestess whispered to him

Knowing that Victor had little life left, Annette knew she had to heal him.