Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons

Chapter 569: [Bonus Chapter] No Soul.

Thoren stared at the headless corpse on the ground without blinking.

A couple of feet from him, the elderly couple were trembling vehemently. Their faces etched with horror as they stared at the gruesome scene.

Neither understanding what had just happened nor possessing the courage to look away from the body lying in a pool of blood.

The elderly woman covered her mouth with both hands, while her husband stood beside her with his body stiff and his face pale.

His eyes fixed on the severed neck.

As for Thoren, he ignored their presence. All his attention remained on the corpse; his eyes fixed on it as if he was waiting for something.

And indeed, he was waiting.

The room remained silent for several seconds, with only the faint sound of the building’s emergency system humming somewhere beyond the bedroom walls.

Then, just as the silence seemed to settle over the scene, something utterly bizarre happened; for in that very next instant, the severed head, which had lain perfectly still and lifeless, suddenly twitched with a sharp, jarring motion.

The elderly man noticed it first, and his entire body stiffened as he watched the dead head slowly turn against the floor.

It began moving toward the body.

There was no hand pulling it, no visible force guiding it, and yet the head dragged itself across the floor with a slow, unnatural movement.

Its cheek scraping against the cold surface as its open mouth repeatedly struck the ground.

Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.

A thin trail of blood followed behind it.

The elderly woman’s eyes widened in terror as she watched the head crawl closer and closer.

"Ahhhhh!"

Her scream echoed through the bedroom before her body suddenly went limp.

She fainted.

Her husband quickly caught her, but his own legs were trembling so violently that he nearly fell with her.

And for several seconds, he could do nothing except stare at the crawling head in complete horror.

Thoren’s expression did not change as he watched the severed head continue toward its body.

’I knew it.’

The scene beneath the ancient tower at the center of the blood river was repeating itself.

But this time, Thoren was not interested in merely witnessing it.

He wanted to understand it.

His gaze sharpened as he watched the head slowly approach the corpse, and although every movement was grotesque, there was something even more unsettling about the process that immediately caught his attention.

[Ghost Whispers]

He activated his skill, wanting to find out what was truly happening beneath the hood. But to his shock, nothing happened.

He narrowed his eyes, but he refused to give up so easily and he tried again.

[Ghost Whispers]

Still nothing.

No soul appeared.

It was as if the corpse before him was nothing more than an empty shell.

’How is this possible?’

Ghost Whispers had never failed him before.

As long as the soul remained within the required period after death, he could summon it, but now there was nothing to summon.

Not even the faintest remnant of consciousness that could explain what was moving the corpse.

Thoren stared at the body in silence, his mind quickly analyzing what he was seeing while the severed head finally reached the corpse.

The head stopped beside the open wound and for several seconds, nothing happened.

Then the corpse moved.

Its fingers curled against the floor.

Watching this, the elderly man nearly fainted.

The dead fingers slowly scratched against the ground, producing a harsh scraping sound as the arm pulled itself forward.

The muscles beneath the torn flesh began twitching in irregular patterns that made the entire body look less like something returning to life and more like something being forced to move from the inside.

Then the wound opened wider and a mass of black flesh slowly pushed out from the severed neck.

It was not blood.

It was not normal muscle.

The substance moved like countless thin worms tangled together, writhing and twisting as they stretched toward the severed head.

This time, the elderly man’s breathing stopped as he watched the scene.

The black strands wrapped around the head. They sank into the flesh around the neck before tightening simultaneously.

The head suddenly jerked toward the body with enough force that its teeth slammed together.

The neck twisted into an unnatural position before the black flesh began forcing the two severed parts together.

The black substance crawled across the wound, spreading beneath the skin while the severed flesh slowly fused together.

Veins appeared beneath the pale skin and began filling with something dark, almost like ink being pushed through them.

The corpse convulsed.

Its back suddenly arched several inches off the floor.

The elderly man watched in horror as the figure’s stomach violently expanded, then collapsed again, as though something inside the body had taken its first breath.

The mouth opened; the jaw hung unnaturally low as black liquid slowly leaked from the corner of the lips.

Then the corpse inhaled.

A deep, wet breath dragged itself from its lungs.

The corpse’s chest rose again as another breath followed.

Its head remained lowered for several seconds, its neck hanging at an unnatural angle before a series of loud cracks echoed through the room as the bones slowly returned to their proper positions.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The hooded figure raised his head and his eyes opened.

The elderly man stared at him, feeling his worldview shattered completely. How could the dead come back to live?

Yet the figure was standing and breathing.

The figure’s mouth suddenly opened, and a strange sound escaped his throat. Something between a gasp and a wet growl, before he slowly turned his head toward Thoren.

His neck rotated farther than it should have.

Crack.

The elderly man finally lost control.

"Monster!"

He stumbled backward while holding his unconscious wife. The resurrected figure did not react as his empty eyes remained fixed on Thoren.

For a brief moment, the room became completely silent.

Then the black veins beneath the hooded figure’s skin slowly disappeared.

His wounds closed.

His clothes remained covered in blood, but the body itself showed almost no sign that it had been decapitated moments earlier.

Thoren watched without saying anything.

He had seen enough. And the absence of a soul made the situation even more disturbing.

The hooded figure movement was stiff at first, almost mechanical, but the stiffness quickly disappeared as his body adjusted.

Just then, a strange red light shot out of the Vorlath Blood Compass eye and landed on the resurrected figure.

Ahhhhhh!

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[AN: This Chapter is sponsored by: Scott_Berry_3382]

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