Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition-Chapter 744 Story The Widow’s Web

744: Story 744: The Widow’s Web

744: Story 744: The Widow’s Web

The cathedral quaked from the paladin’s divine blast, the walls groaning as if in agony.

The wailing of banished revenants still echoed, their forms reduced to smoldering remnants.

And yet, Selene Nocturna remained standing—unshaken, untouched.

Her shroud rippled and reformed, tendrils of shadowed silk knitting back together.

Slowly, she tilted her head, observing the paladin with something between curiosity and amusement.

“You burn bright, little knight,” she murmured, stepping forward.

“But tell me… how long before you sputter out?”

The paladin tightened his grip on his warhammer, his breath steady despite the weight of corruption pressing against his soul.

Light still clung to him, the sigil he had unleashed holding back the worst of Selene’s influence—for now.

“I will not waver,” he growled.

Selene smiled.

“Oh, but you will.”

She raised a single gloved hand, and the air crackled with unseen energy.

From beneath the cathedral’s ruined floorboards, thick black threads slithered upward—silken yet rotting, writhing like living veins.

They spread rapidly, forming a massive, grotesque web around the battlefield.

The paladin moved to strike, but his feet snagged.

The threads had wrapped around his ankles, tightening with unnatural speed.

Selene let out a soft, mocking sigh.

“The more you struggle, the deeper you sink,” she purred.

“Tell me, does your faith prepare you for drowning?”

With a flick of her wrist, the web surged.

The threads snaked up his legs, coiling around his arms, his chest, his throat.

The paladin thrashed, summoning light, but the webbing absorbed it, drinking in the holy radiance like a starved beast.

Selene’s laughter was syrupy-sweet, thick with satisfaction.

She stepped closer, reaching out a single finger to trail along his cheek—a touch colder than the grave.

“So brave,” she whispered.

“So tragic.”

The paladin gritted his teeth.

He would not fall like this.

Drawing on his last reserves, he muttered a sacred incantation, the words searing his tongue.

A burst of raw, golden fire erupted from his body—not a simple blast, but a cleansing inferno.

The webbing ignited.

Selene’s expression twisted, not in fear, but in delight.

“Yes, burn for me!” she hissed, her eyes gleaming hungrily.

But as the fire surged, it did not just consume the web.

It rushed toward Selene herself, licking at her shroud, scorching the fabric.

For the first time, she flinched.

The paladin saw his chance.

With a final cry, he broke free, hammer raised for the killing blow.

Selene recoiled, her smirk now taut with fury.

“Enough.”

The entire cathedral shook.

From the deepest shadows, something else stirred—something vast, something waiting.

Selene’s laughter returned, low and venomous.

“You should have run, little knight.”

The darkness swallowed them both.