The moonlight spilled gently over Madini Village as the night settled in.
Sandro and Matilda were at it again—sitting by the window, observing the zombies in the dark. By now, the groans and shuffling noises had become background noise, almost like crickets in a normal summer.
As they watched, a movement caught their eye. Luna. She stepped out of her room, wrapped in a dark cloak, and walked purposefully toward the forest. Matilda and Sandro looked at each other from their separate windows across the courtyard. Where is she going in the middle of a zombie infested night? Matilda wondered.
The next morning, Luna stood in the center of the courtyard, her expression unreadable as always.
"Today is the Chief's birthday," she announced.
"Since the living arrangements and food you receive are provided by his generosity, you will attend his birthday banquet with me today."
Lily whispered to the others, "It looks like our plans to meet up and search the village are canceled." "This is our fourth day, right?" Ruby whispered back.
"We still have time," Matilda replied quietly. "Let's just see what happens." Everyone nodded.
An hour later, Luna led the group through the village. They passed under colorful banners and through streets lined with busy villagers preparing for the celebration. Soon, they arrived at the Chief's palace—a grand wooden structure that looked out of place in the humble village. They were granted seats near the center of the long banquet hall.
The Chief, wearing a heavy decorative robe and an ornate golden crown, stood proudly at the head of the table. His wife stood behind him, silent and composed, though her face was pale. "Welcome, everyone," the Chief said warmly, raising his hands. "Your presence today honors me. It has been a difficult few years for our village, but your cooperation gives us strength. Today, I celebrate with you in gratitude."
Matilda observed the Chief closely. Her eyes locked on the golden crown on his head. It looked exactly like the one she'd seen on the zombie the other night. But something else caught her attention. The Chief's wife. She wasn't smiling. Her hands were clenched together so tightly her knuckles were white, and her eyes held back a storm of emotion.
"I must apologize," the Chief continued, his voice softening, "if the celebration feels modest. My wife is not herself today. Truthfully, I am not either. My birthday used to be a time of double celebration... I shared it with my son." He paused, his voice cracking with genuine grief. "Since his passing, this day has never been the same."
Matilda and Sandro exchanged glances across the table. The realization hit them both at the same time. The crown. The crowned zombie. The Chief raised his cup.
"To family." Everyone stood for the toast.
During the toast, Matilda noticed someone at the far end of the table watching them.
It was a girl with fierce, intelligent purple eyes and long, wild gray curly hair. She wore dark red lipstick and sat with a confidence that made her stand out. She was staring directly at Sandro.
After they sat down again, the Chief's wife quietly excused herself and left the venue, wiping her eyes. The party began in earnest, the hall filling with the sound of chatting and laughter.
Matilda stood up and stepped outside onto the balcony for some air. Sandro followed a moment later. "You noticed too," Matilda said, not turning around. "Mmm," Sandro nodded, leaning against the railing.
"It looks like the crowned zombie is the Village Chief's son."
"Then... how did he turn into a zombie?" Matilda asked, frustration in her voice.
"The Village Chief was our main suspect, but if it's his own dead son... surely he didn't do this on purpose? Now our only lead is gone."
"Not necessarily," Sandro said calmly. "At least now we know the identity of the Zombie King." Matilda nodded, and they headed back inside to their seats.
The red-lipped girl was still watching them. Sandro sighed.
"How long are you planning to keep staring?" he asked, not looking at her. "If you have something to say, say it."
The girl smiled, a slow, predatory grin. She lifted her glass of wine and took a sip. "What a good wine," she purred. "Goes well with the food, too."
Sandro frowned. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"My name's Scarlett," she said, resting her chin on her hand. "You should leave your group and join mine. We could work well together."
Sandro glanced at Matilda. She looked away, pretending to be very interested in her fork. "Sorry, but no," Sandro said flatly.
Scarlett's smile widened. "Oh really? I'm much more useful than them. For example, I also figured out the zombie is the Chief's son." She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "I also have another piece of information. Want to hear it?"
"What is it?" Sandro asked. "I won't tell you unless you leave her and join me," Scarlett teased, eyeing Matilda with disdain.
Sandro calmly took a sip of his tea. "Then keep the information to yourself." He stood up, grabbed Matilda's hand, and said, "Let's go."
Matilda blinked, startled, but followed him as he led her out of the hall. "Where are we going?" she asked, jogging to keep up. Sandro paused in the corridor.
"Since everyone's busy celebrating, this is the perfect time to look for clues." Matilda nodded. "Should we tell the others?" "If we sneak around in a big group, it'll raise suspicion," Sandro replied.
"Alright," Matilda agreed. She looked down. "Um... you're still holding my hand."
Sandro froze. He let go quickly, clearing his throat. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Matilda said, hiding a smile.
"Let's start by finding the Chief's son's room." "Good idea."
They sneaked through the palace corridors, avoiding the guards by ducking behind pillars and tapestries. Eventually, they found two bedrooms side by side in a quiet wing of the palace. Matilda pressed her ear to the first door. Silence... until she heard quiet, heart-wrenching sobbing. She looked at Sandro and whispered, "It must be the Chief's room. I can hear his wife crying in there." Sandro nodded grimly. He pointed to the second door. Their target. They tried the handle. Unlocked. They opened it—and sure enough, it was a bedroom. But it wasn't just a room. It was a shrine.