Lucien found it difficult to distinguish the pounding of his heart and the horde of footfalls tromping into the flower shop. A rotten odor filled the room as sparks of magic flew through the air, and the awful smell clung to each shaky breath Lucien inhaled when he cast his own desperate defensive spells.

The kids were crying, huddled in the back corner with their mother while everyone else had gathered toward the front of the shop to form a barrier between them. Lucien's own shield shimmered from one end of the shop to the next, pulsing with as much power as he could muster.

Potted plants spilled over with some coaxing from his magic, vines slicing the ankles of the rotters at the forefront. Their bodies fell to the ground with loud thumps, and a mix of magical spells exploded their innards across the floor. Lucien channeled more energy into his shield as rotters scraped their bloodied nails against the solidified barrier between them.

Despite how the veins in his arms burned, Lucien wrapped vines around the rotters and sprouted thorns through their sagging, putrid flesh. But they were endless. No matter how many they destroyed, the rotters multiplied twice as fast. One of the mothers had locked herself in the flower shop's restroom with the kids while everyone else did their best to fight them off with an assortment of elemental magic spells.

Fire flew past Lucien in a vibrant shape of a raven, charring a row of snarling rotters that reached his barrier. It took a lot of strength and energy to maintain a barrier, triple that when a horde of the undead were doing everything possible to deteriorate it. Lucien appreciated the efforts of everyone else who had tried to hold up their own, but if it weren't for him, the rotters would've slipped through already.

Silas and his mother's energy was similar to his own, using the plants around them to attack the rotters. Their shields had tiny cracks within minutes of conjuring them, but Lucien knew they needed all the extra protection they could get. A few others with wind and air elements surrounded him, but he wasn't familiar enough with the other families to know who was who.

Meanwhile, Seraphina had conjured a monstrous squid from her water magic that expelled a toxic ink, melting the flesh of the rotters. Lucien was horrifically fascinated by how she commanded it, flopping the poor thing around the opening of the shop to combat the newcomers from trampling inside.

Castor knew his magic abilities far better than anyone, and that was why he kept his prime focus on all the rotters that reached his shield. As much as Lucien loved him, and bless his heart, his shields weren't conjured with protection in mind. They only lasted a moment before the rotters shattered right through them, but he made up for it with his magical flames and majestic birds.

Alongside a raven, he'd brought his phoenix out to rain fire down on the horde until they were nothing but crispy corpses on the ground. Silas and his mother let their plants devour the remains so Lucien could keep better focus on his shield, but as more continued to pour inside the shop, he felt his strength dwindling.

A coppery tang flooded Lucien's mouth. His arms trembled like tree limbs in the wind as he desperately held up his shield because their lives depended on it.

One crack, one tiny mistake of releasing his magic's hold, would be the end for them. It was nothing like the farm where he'd had more skillful magic-wielders like Grayson and Darcy to help him, or actual room to move freely. There weren't as many rotters then either.

It pained him to admit it, but he couldn't hold up the shield forever. Lucien feared he'd faint if wasn't honest about it soon, so he choked out, "I can't hold my shield up much longer. We need another plan."

"How fucking hard is it to stand there with a shield?" One of the father's spat, and Lucien shrunk back in shame at his words. It was clearly far more difficult than any of them knew because none had held theirs up as long as he had. He wished he had the strength to maintain it forever, but he wouldn't give them all false hope and faint like a fool to send them all to their deaths. "Stand back and I'll take control."

Before Lucien had a chance to respond, the burly man marched over to him and roughly shoved him aside. The jarring movement made Lucien lose his grip on one side of the shield, and the rotters poured in like infection oozing from a wound. Castor yanked him away as the man cast futile spells at the ravenous beasts that latched onto his arms and sunk their rotted, abnormally sharp teeth into his neck.

Blood burst from the wound in the man's neck as garbled screams echoed in Lucien's ears, his warm gore splattering his face like lava as the horde forced the man to the ground. Intestines poured out of him like crimson snakes and they slurped it up like giant spaghetti noodles. Lucien's stomach churned as he forced himself to look away, but he couldn't block out the sounds of them eating nor could he rid the man's pitiful screams of agony.

Sparks of forest green pulsed in weakened beats around him, but his shield refused to reconstruct as strong as it had been. He'd siphoned too much of his energy already.

"We need to lure them out of the shop," Castor rested a hand atop of Lucien's shoulder, channeling warm healing magic through him to regain a smidgen of his strength. "I think I can clear a path right here through the middle of them with my flames." He summoned his phoenix forward, until the blazing bird shone brightly before them, releasing a threatening breath of flames in the snarling rotters' faces.

Hellfire seared their skin, melting down the flesh to nothing but charred tissue and bone that Lucien and Silas easily swept aside with their vines. Seraphina plunged down the path first, her own shield a blaze of crystalized blue that kept the rotters focused on her but unable to touch her. Silas followed close behind her, his head shifting with unease from left to right at the rotters pressed tightly against her barrier as he hurried through.

"I'll stay back here and help get rid of the rotters that don't follow you all." Lucien's shield held up against the remaining rotters with help from Mrs. Rosewood, who stood close beside him. If not for Castor's fire magic, he imagined many would've gotten to them already.

Lucien's heart skipped a beat as Castor nodded, his voice barely audible over the snarling and gurgling undead as he whispered, "Be safe."

Powerful gusts of magic swept across the horde, but Lucien stood his ground with his shield as Mrs. Rosewood summoned a pile of snakes, all shimmering with black and green hues. They were the only remaining two in the shop, aside from the kids and two mothers locked in the restroom stall behind them. It was their job now to keep them safe.

It was an agonizing wait, but once the last rotter within the shop had staggered out, Mrs. Rosewood used her magic to weave a new wall in place of the glass with vines and roots, making it sturdy enough so nothing else could penetrate through. However, neither of them were prepared for one of the kids to bolt out from the restroom stall screaming at the top of his lungs.

The poor kid's mother reached for him, her voice trembling with fear as she tried to console him, but Lucien could see the terror etched on the boy's face. In a panic, he bolted toward the back of the shop and the heavy thud of a door slamming behind him sent a chill down Lucien's spine.

"Wait!" Mrs. Rosewood shouted, and without a second thought, she sprinted after him, flinging the door wide open as the boy's mother cried out for him.

Lucien hesitated for a heartbeat, then followed after them, his heart racing in his chest. As the door swung open, a rush of chilly fall air swept through, and he stepped out into the alleyway. Shadows slithered ominously along the walls, and he could hear the rotters' ragged breaths and groans echoing in the stillness.

The little boy had frozen at the mouth of the alley, trembling at the sight of the rotters staggering down the street. Acting swiftly, Mrs. Rosewood picked him up, ensuring he didn't make a sound to reveal their presence.

As the child wriggled out of her arms, Lucien felt a rush of relief. The kid ran towards the door, where his mother eagerly awaited, holding it open for their escape. His mother was already scolding the poor kid while hugging tightly, like she'd never let go again.

"Let's not do that again, okay?" Mrs. Rosewood let out a breathless chuckle. "I know it's scary right now, but we're safer inside. "We just have to-" she began, but the gush of blood that sprayed from the side of her neck cut her sentence off, drowning her words in gurgles. Despite her injury, she summoned all her strength to cast a silent spell. It revealed the rotter that had concealed itself in invisibility.

The mother's screams pierced through Lucien's very soul, as did the harsh slam of the door in his face. Lucien trembled so hard, he couldn't move a muscle. Mrs. Rosewood's face was no longer recognizable, only a mass of blood and flesh as the rotter tore into her with ravenous hunger unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

Lucien scrambled to the door, desperately pounding on it and pleading for her to let him back inside. Tears stung his eyes as he tried to break the lock with his magic, but it was no use. It had been enchanted by Mrs. Rosewood to keep them safe inside. Only she had the powers to open it. "Please." Lucien begged.

Rough, gnarled hands shoved him against the door as he fumbled for his wand. Just when he had it secured in his grasp, razor sharp teeth sunk into his wrist and it slipped from his hand as he cried out in pain. Blood oozed from the site as he yanked his hand away from the rotter's mouth. Loose chunks of his skin hung between the rotter's thin, bloody lips.

Lucien struggled to force them away, his heart pounding in his ears over the hungry snarls of the damned that had caged him in. One released an ear-splintering screech, and tears gathered in the corners of Lucien's eyes as more of them came down into the alleyway.

"Gods-dammit." Lucien sunk down, his fingers desperately grazing the ground as sharp teeth tore through the thick fabric of his coat and pierced his skin. When he touched the familiar material of his wand, he yanked it close to his chest with newfound hope as he chanted a defense spell to no avail. Dull sparks flickered off his wand, and a sharp pain seared through his veins as he tried to force his magic out.

Lucien staggered back, his hands bracing a metal garbage bin. He didn't want to die. Magic pulsed weakly beneath his fingertips. His throat tightened. Tears blurred his vision.

In a last ditch effort to save himself, Lucien clambered on top of the garbage and yelled as loud as his lungs could muster for help. His desperate screams morphed into tearful cries for Castor.

A blaze of hellfire swept down the alleyway so suddenly, it blinded Lucien. Starved groans muffled to nothing as crispy rotter corpses tumbled to the ground in a foul mess of burnt flesh. Castor soared above the flames on his broom, landing with caution right at level with the garbage bin.

"You're hurt." Castor gently took his arm to inspect the damage, and Lucien grimaced when warm healing magic flooded through his skin. "It's far too damaged for me to repair with magic alone, but that should stop the bleeding. Climb on. We're getting the hell out of here."

Lucien swung one shaky leg over his broom, embers of fiery orange easing him over as he wrapped his arms tightly around Castor's waist. Mid-air, Lucien surveyed the carnage below then buried his face against Castor's back. "What about the kids?" he rasped. "We can't just leave them."

"Silas and Sera are handling it. Two hunters helped us get rid of the rotters back there. They're working on getting people into safe shelters to guard them," Castor explained. "My mom's shop is one of those safe haven's. The flower shop's gonna be one too since Mrs. Rosewood patched up her window."

"Mrs. Rosewood." Lucien's throat tightened, and a tiny sob escaped his lips. "I-I couldn't save her."

Castor's body tensed against him, and he softly said, "I'm sorry."

Lucien couldn't bring himself to look down again. Not without the urge to puke his guts out or faint from the horrific massacre of their town. What was once a fun, festive holiday had turned into a living nightmare.