After confirming that the area was indeed a legitimate safe zone, the three of them took shelter beneath the shade of a nearby tree. It was large and old, its gnarled branches stretching wide enough to shield them from the relentless rain. Droplets slid down the leaves in steady streams, pattering softly onto the muddy ground below.
Meanwhile, the crimson moon glowed brighter, eerier. The rain grew heavier, each drop carrying the faint scent of blood. Thunder rolled in the distance, echoing through the forest, while the guttural sounds of undead creatures spawning and wandering nearby filled the night. Their cries and roars painted a grim symphony that clawed at the edges of sanity.
However, the safe zone wouldn't stay safe for long.
In three hours, the final grain would fall and the dark wall of protection would dissolve. Once that happened, they would be thrown back into the nightmare, forced to fight their way through the undead once again in search of another refuge.
