The Pillager

The Pillager

Traveling through this land had given the lone pillager value beyond his wildest dreams, but of what value has gold to the dead?

Autumn had arrived, and with it the raw and unforgiving gusts of the northern winds.

To accompany the wind were the severe lack of light for the village in the depths of the faint valley. Beneath the feet of a lone man lay thousands of rotting leaves in a magnitude of different colors.

Unknown to the lone man was what to be expected by disturbing the dead. Pillaging is no bright idea in a village plagued to extinction. Cold shivers ran down the lone man’s spine as he made his way into the God’s Acre. He continued past the graves. Walking further into the gloomy cemetery. The man was in high spirit of discovering something of value.

After he had scrutinized most of the cenotaphs in the acre of the diseased, he settled on one: H. R. Maestro. Curious to find a grave bearing his name he examined it closer. The sepulture smelled of mephitic human, and the tomb seemed to be impaired. The burial did however, have letters engraved in gold. Any good pillager could sense that this was a grave of great value.

Sturdy yet a bit rusty after the months of travel, the spade he had chosen had served him well on his journey. Pillaging had been apart of the lone man’s life for many years, and he had decided to go on one last raid before retiring. This would prove to be his last as he stuck his sturdy spade into the fine gravel. One shovel after the other the pile next to him grew.

Clearing the burial seemed soon to be far more of an effort than he first thought, but after hours of work he looked down at the coffin. Excited and nervous he reached down into the grave and lifted the lid on the coffin. Empty.

The anticipation cleared and anger filled him as he erected himself onto his feet. After the anger subsided he felt a hand on his shoulder. In shock he turned around only to be pushed backwards into the grave. The fall knocked the breath out of him, as he looked up he saw a creature dressed in black lift the lid back on the coffin, and the sound of gravel being poured down was the last thing the lone man heard.

Author's Note

This is the first story I've completed. Even though it's quite cliche, I tried to focus more on the feel rather than the plot. Another side-note be; English is not my mother tounge so sorry in advance for any typos.

Reviews

[Kailani]

This is super cool, I love your descriptions and the whole feeling of it is beautifully eerie. I like your writing style.

[Deason]

Short yet eerie, this was an interesting story to read. I really enjoyed the way you describe things; you definitely created a great feel for a short horror piece like this.

[a4s]

Many thanks for your review. The feeling was what I aimed to make great in this story. :)