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Zombie's don't care
3D Render by Henry1850In this twisted world, where even demons were hunted by the mindless dead, the very fabric of existence had unraveled into a grotesque nightmare. Shadows stretched long and thin under the pallid glow of a dying sun, and the air was thick with the stench of decay. Once-strong beings, masters of magic and terror, now cowered in fear as zombies roamed, relentless and ravenous, their hollow eyes set on devouring anything that still breathed.
Zareth, a demon once feared across realms, now found himself standing amid the ruins of his once-mighty lair. His powerful spells, once able to incinerate armies, fizzled like candle flames in the face of the horde. The weight of despair pressed down on him like an iron shroud. “Magic can’t stop them,” he muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He had seen the truth: words of power fell silent, weapons shattered under the sheer force of numbers. These creatures were insatiable, driven by a singular hunger that transcended good and evil. They infected the pure, the corrupt, the innocent, and the damned with equal malice. They didn’t care.
Zareth had witnessed their gruesome toll—village after village swallowed whole, families torn apart, their screams echoing in the void. He turned away from the memories, seeking refuge in the depths of a cursed forest, hoping darkness would offer him solace. Instead, he stumbled upon a group of survivors—grim shadows of humanity, eyes haunted by terror and loss.
“Zareth!” a gaunt human cried, desperation etched on his face. “You’re powerful! You can save us!”
Zareth shook his head, the weight of his impotence heavy on his soul. “There is no saving to be had. We must flee.”
“But we can’t hide forever!” shouted a young woman, cradling a child whose innocent face was marred by dirt and fear. “They’ll find us!”
“They will find you whether you fight or cower,” Zareth replied, the words bitter on his tongue. “Zombies don’t care.”
As if summoned by his despair, the ground shook with the approach of the horde. The moans of the undead filled the air, a symphony of death that turned stomachs and froze blood. The survivors exchanged frantic glances, their hope extinguished by the reality closing in around them.
Zareth felt their fear resonate within him, a powerful tide that threatened to pull him under. Yet amidst the hopelessness, he sensed something flicker—a faint spark of resilience that remained unyielded. It ignited a flicker of defiance within him. Though magic had failed him, perhaps cunning could prevail.
“Listen!” Zareth shouted, voice cutting through the encroaching dread. “We cannot confront them directly, but we can outsmart them. Use the forest to our advantage. We can create traps, distractions—anything to survive until dawn!”
As the shadows deepened, the group sprang into action. They were a ragtag band of the desperate, wielding whatever they could find—blades, makeshift weapons, even crude tools to set traps. Zareth led them into the night, channeling every scrap of magic he could muster into weaving illusions and barricades, conjuring flickering shadows that danced just beyond the zombies’ reach.
The first wave struck, crashing against their defenses with a mindless fury. Zareth felt the shield tremble under the weight of decay and despair. The shrieks of the ensnared zombies filled the air, but it was a hollow victory; more would come, drawn by the scent of flesh and fear.
As dawn approached, the air grew colder, and the stench of death thickened. Zareth’s heart raced as he summoned what remained of his power, fortifying their defenses one last time. “Hold fast!” he roared, even as doubt gnawed at him. They had fought so hard, but would it be enough?
One by one, the undead fell, their bodies piling at the feet of the living. Yet for every one they felled, two more surged forth from the shadows. The forest was alive with the chaos of battle, the cries of the living mingling with the groans of the dead.
Finally, as the first light of dawn threatened to break the horizon, Zareth turned to the survivors, bloodied but unbroken. “Now! We run!”
They surged into the gloom, racing toward the light, but not all would make it. The forest echoed with the cries of those who fell behind, consumed by the merciless horde. Zareth felt their loss like a dagger in his heart, a reminder that survival often came at a terrible price.
As they burst from the trees into a clearing, Zareth turned back to the shadows. The horde hesitated, shying away from the dawn’s light, but he knew it wouldn’t last. They would regroup, driven by hunger and instinct, and would follow them again.
“We survived,” one of the humans panted, breathless, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Yes,” Zareth said, tasting the bitterness of survival. “But we have merely postponed the inevitable.”
“What do we do now?” the woman asked, clutching her child closer, the reality of their existence settling heavily upon them.
“Now,” Zareth replied, a dark determination creeping into his voice, “we prepare for the next fight. We must become shadows in this world of death, for zombies don’t care. They’ll never stop coming.”
As the sun rose, a cruel reminder of life’s persistence against the dark, Zareth felt the weight of their shared burden. They would forge a new path, one lined with the corpses of their enemies and the remnants of their lost hopes. The living may still cling to their humanity, but in this upside-down world, that humanity was becoming a curse, one that might extinguish in the relentless hunt of the undead.
They would resist, but with every breath, they would be reminded that in this unforgiving realm, only one truth remained: zombies didn’t care.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Created with Daz Studio and post work in Affinity Photo
👹IMPORTANT NOTICE Property of HENRY1850. Copying or using in AI Scripting or references is STRICTLY Forbidden! None of my artworks are permitted to be used as NFT's. All rights reserved. This work may NOT BE reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted or uploaded in any way without written permission from HENRY1850. This work does not belong to the public domain. If you have doubts about this matter, please feel free to direct message HENRY1850.
Zareth, a demon once feared across realms, now found himself standing amid the ruins of his once-mighty lair. His powerful spells, once able to incinerate armies, fizzled like candle flames in the face of the horde. The weight of despair pressed down on him like an iron shroud. “Magic can’t stop them,” he muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He had seen the truth: words of power fell silent, weapons shattered under the sheer force of numbers. These creatures were insatiable, driven by a singular hunger that transcended good and evil. They infected the pure, the corrupt, the innocent, and the damned with equal malice. They didn’t care.
Zareth had witnessed their gruesome toll—village after village swallowed whole, families torn apart, their screams echoing in the void. He turned away from the memories, seeking refuge in the depths of a cursed forest, hoping darkness would offer him solace. Instead, he stumbled upon a group of survivors—grim shadows of humanity, eyes haunted by terror and loss.
“Zareth!” a gaunt human cried, desperation etched on his face. “You’re powerful! You can save us!”
Zareth shook his head, the weight of his impotence heavy on his soul. “There is no saving to be had. We must flee.”
“But we can’t hide forever!” shouted a young woman, cradling a child whose innocent face was marred by dirt and fear. “They’ll find us!”
“They will find you whether you fight or cower,” Zareth replied, the words bitter on his tongue. “Zombies don’t care.”
As if summoned by his despair, the ground shook with the approach of the horde. The moans of the undead filled the air, a symphony of death that turned stomachs and froze blood. The survivors exchanged frantic glances, their hope extinguished by the reality closing in around them.
Zareth felt their fear resonate within him, a powerful tide that threatened to pull him under. Yet amidst the hopelessness, he sensed something flicker—a faint spark of resilience that remained unyielded. It ignited a flicker of defiance within him. Though magic had failed him, perhaps cunning could prevail.
“Listen!” Zareth shouted, voice cutting through the encroaching dread. “We cannot confront them directly, but we can outsmart them. Use the forest to our advantage. We can create traps, distractions—anything to survive until dawn!”
As the shadows deepened, the group sprang into action. They were a ragtag band of the desperate, wielding whatever they could find—blades, makeshift weapons, even crude tools to set traps. Zareth led them into the night, channeling every scrap of magic he could muster into weaving illusions and barricades, conjuring flickering shadows that danced just beyond the zombies’ reach.
The first wave struck, crashing against their defenses with a mindless fury. Zareth felt the shield tremble under the weight of decay and despair. The shrieks of the ensnared zombies filled the air, but it was a hollow victory; more would come, drawn by the scent of flesh and fear.
As dawn approached, the air grew colder, and the stench of death thickened. Zareth’s heart raced as he summoned what remained of his power, fortifying their defenses one last time. “Hold fast!” he roared, even as doubt gnawed at him. They had fought so hard, but would it be enough?
One by one, the undead fell, their bodies piling at the feet of the living. Yet for every one they felled, two more surged forth from the shadows. The forest was alive with the chaos of battle, the cries of the living mingling with the groans of the dead.
Finally, as the first light of dawn threatened to break the horizon, Zareth turned to the survivors, bloodied but unbroken. “Now! We run!”
They surged into the gloom, racing toward the light, but not all would make it. The forest echoed with the cries of those who fell behind, consumed by the merciless horde. Zareth felt their loss like a dagger in his heart, a reminder that survival often came at a terrible price.
As they burst from the trees into a clearing, Zareth turned back to the shadows. The horde hesitated, shying away from the dawn’s light, but he knew it wouldn’t last. They would regroup, driven by hunger and instinct, and would follow them again.
“We survived,” one of the humans panted, breathless, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Yes,” Zareth said, tasting the bitterness of survival. “But we have merely postponed the inevitable.”
“What do we do now?” the woman asked, clutching her child closer, the reality of their existence settling heavily upon them.
“Now,” Zareth replied, a dark determination creeping into his voice, “we prepare for the next fight. We must become shadows in this world of death, for zombies don’t care. They’ll never stop coming.”
As the sun rose, a cruel reminder of life’s persistence against the dark, Zareth felt the weight of their shared burden. They would forge a new path, one lined with the corpses of their enemies and the remnants of their lost hopes. The living may still cling to their humanity, but in this upside-down world, that humanity was becoming a curse, one that might extinguish in the relentless hunt of the undead.
They would resist, but with every breath, they would be reminded that in this unforgiving realm, only one truth remained: zombies didn’t care.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Created with Daz Studio and post work in Affinity Photo
👹IMPORTANT NOTICE Property of HENRY1850. Copying or using in AI Scripting or references is STRICTLY Forbidden! None of my artworks are permitted to be used as NFT's. All rights reserved. This work may NOT BE reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted or uploaded in any way without written permission from HENRY1850. This work does not belong to the public domain. If you have doubts about this matter, please feel free to direct message HENRY1850.
A great story, brought to life by the excellent illustrations.
Superbly done.
Superbly done.
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Henry1850
Karma: 5,809
Sun, Oct 13, 2024Appreciate you. The story took longer than the image, even though there are six Daz characters (all foreground). I used the Albert Mansion set and removed the building and a few other small things, I then added this really nice broken down creepy house along with a lot of billboard zombies along with some other Halloween props. I replaced the old set's Albert mansion's fog system for the real VDB type ground fog.
Thank you ever so kindly my friend.
Thank you ever so kindly my friend.
Zombie's don't care
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