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(I am going to write a long story bascly a book and share it with you guys. Anyway tell me your thoughts as the story goes along)
Scars
Prologue

It was a cold morning as the sun began to rise over the ocean waves. A group of men laughed and ate what was left in the village. They laughed as the bodies began to stink of dead children, men and women all over the ground behind them. In moments then men began to pack up ignorant to the sounds behind them. In the shallow graves it began to be restless as bodies of the dead began to rise. They reformed their tattered skin and broken bones together and start to walk at first like the living dead but then more lively and start to pick up pass towards the men that surrounded the fire.
One of the undead creatures rose up late but ready. He looked next to him to see his dead wife’s head and body turn apart and his child who was barely alive but ended up dying once he could reach her. His heart sank and he realized he was alive even though that blow to his head would have killed him. He sighed in anger and grief and arose with the others. He headed towards the fire were the men were screaming in terror at the creatures who arose from the grave.
A mass slaughter of all the men and whoever caused their pain were killed and some even eaten alive. They all looked at each other once the attack happened and sighed a great and evil sigh as some of them fell to their knees. They looked around for anyone living but many of the children were killed and none survived and even if they did their bodies would have been totally destroyed.
The one with the scar wondered back to his wife and children finding his brother and sister there both of which hide themselves and were unharmed by the attack. They comfort their brother and took him out of the area into a nice area were they cleaned him up. He was half dead and felt alone to the world. His sister tried to comfort him but his heart was cold and his brother just stood their falling to his knees and started to cry. All they could do is cry.
 
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