He examined the seals and wardings that bound the tomb shut. The locks were complex, but nothing he couldn't handle. As he worked, a sudden chill wind swept through the crypt, extinguishing his lantern. The darkness was absolute. Victor froze, ears straining. A low groan echoed from the shadows, then another, and another. The sarcophagi were opening of their own accord.
Dozens of desiccated corpses emerged from their resting places, yellowed bones clicking into a shambling march towards him. Victor's blood ran cold. This was no mere trap - Silas Grimbold's statement of vengeance against trespassers. The undead horde closed in, skeletal hands outstretched to drag him into their ranks.
Victor recoiled in horror, the lantern slipping from his grasp. It shattered on the ground, plunging the mausoleum into darkness. He scrambled backwards, free hand fumbling for the small pistol at his waist. Victor fired, the sound deafening in the confines of the tomb. The bullet struck the figure in the shoulder but It did not slow its advance.
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