Not far away, just a few hundred meters past the picturesque village of Wheatcut in a large field John or John of Wheatcut as he was called, worked hard every day in his homeland's field. He plowed, fertilized and then sowed the crops, or as he liked to say the fruits of the earth, according to the current time of the year.

As one of the few farmers in the village, John was responsible, along with other equally wealthy residents, for ensuring an adequate supply of grain, potatoes and other agricultural products for the other villagers. And of course for the Baron, who always had to receive his share of the harvest, always. Some paid with coins instead of taxes others with goods and still others like John paid with labor.

"The planting season is approaching, I have to hurry to get as much done as possible before the sun goes down." - thought John without stopping to dig in the ground , while the noon sun continued to illuminate his ever balding head.

Time and time again John swung his hoe to loosen the soil, trying to make sure his entire field would be ready for planting in a few days, the most important season of the year was approaching.

Chop

Chop

Chop Chop

The pounding of the tool on the ground was a sound that spread through the immediate area, the constant use of John's favorite iron hoe against the hard and dry ground. It wasn't a good place to farm, but it was the only one the village could afford since further clearing of the forest could end up being much more costly or even more bloody.

Again and again and again he dug as he could do nothing else. Time waited for no one and the newly established village had to eat something after all.

And so passed another ordinary and peaceful afternoon in the village of Wheatcut.

~~~

When some time had passed, the sun was slowly setting beyond the horizon, farmer John stopped what he was doing and looked ahead to think, tired from a day's work on the land. "Night is approaching."

And then he began to ponder already out loud. "It's time to go home, tomorrow is also the day, and my field is not going anywhere. I have something to eat, my family has something to eat, so we won't starve for the foreseeable future. I can rest for a while. I have a wife and begat my first child, and the priest said a second child is on the way. What more to desire, I have reached the pinnacle of life. I can only thank Gods for such a blessed life and that they guided my thought to move here. May it all last as long as possible." Said John looking at the already half plowed field pleased, content with his work done today.

Wasting no time, he took his hoe, which had been in use for many years, under his arm. And then collected the rest of the less important tools so that his neighbor wouldn't think of borrowing them. Finally, he tidied up the field some more in preparation for the next day, so that he wouldn't have to do it in the morning.... He put his favorite straw hat on his head and, checking one last time to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, set off for home via a forest shortcut, a hidden path known only to locals.

"I have to hurry before they close the village gates at night." - Thought John laughing under his breath loudly as if someone had told him a joke, because he knew that he would never be late.

And so passed another ordinary and peaceful evening in the village of Wheatcut.

~~~

"Stop who is coming?" Asked a nervous guard standing on a makeshift wooden turret guarding the entrance to the village.

"Relax Henry it's just me, John the farmer, I walk this way every day, at the same time." Said John lazily to the guard unconcerned about the whole situation .

"Ah it's you John, come inside quickly, you know we are about to close, right?" stated the very serious guard Henry without showing any emotion.

"You say that every day guard, why don't you finally change your talk to include something else?" Replied John mockingly as he walked through the wooden gate, which, along with the palisade, was the village's only line of defense.

"How is your spouse?" Asked the guard out of nowhere, looking straight at the passing John.

" She's fine, and why do you ask?" John, surprised by the unusual question, stood still.

"Nothing, nothing.... but have you checked lately if her baby is by any chance mine, as looking at the brat's hair I think it is." Asked the guard deadly serious but the moment he uttered the entire sentence his mask cracked and he started laughing uncontrollably.

"..."

"HaHa... good joke my friend, you got me this time." John tried to laugh but with miserable results.

And so the two childhood friends began to talk as they always do whenever they meet, reminiscing about old times, rumoring and gossiping about their unkind neighbors, as well as commenting on the current state of the village, thus complaining about the mayor. And all the while the sun was disappearing.

Then night began to fall.

So they had to stop talking and unfortunately parted ways. Farmer John had to return for the night to his family who at this point could already start to be concerned about him. And guard Henry had to close the gate until morning while also changing watch with another guard.

And so passed another ordinary and peaceful day in the village of Wheatcut.

~~~

Walking along the beaten path John, on his way to his home, began to look at the ever-present sight of the beautiful rural landscape. To his left and right were the familiar elongated wooden houses of his neighbors that somewhat resembled Viking buildings in their appearance.

Each was built in the same style, with logs of wood stacked on top of each other and roofs or sides lined with straw or thatch , just to keep the heat inside. Just wood and straw.

For the only thing the new lumberjack village would certainly not lack was wood, cut from the forest and reeds collected from the nearby lake.

As it was a young village, everyone knew everyone and, according to local tradition, the house you lived in had to be built by yourself, of course with a little help from the local carpenter. The wealthy including the baron's appointed mayor had other homes, consisting of wooden red boards imported from a distant city or even sometimes canvas or stone.

These luxuries, however, did not apply to John because he would seem to be considered wealthy, but on the whole scale he was just poor. John watched the surroundings march steadily toward his destination, wondering only what to eat in the evening, as well as about the injustice of this world and why the rich have more than he does.

Until he reached his destination.

His wife Suzy was waiting for him on the doorstep holding his four year old first born son Albert in her arms, with a loving smile and a predatory gleam in her eye. Seeing this magnificent sight, John was finally able to utter the everyday desired words. "I'm home."

~~~

Greeting his wife with a tender kiss on the lips, and hugging his firstborn, John ordered the love of his life to prepare something filling for him to eat while he would be busy putting his only offspring to sleep, of course with poor results.

Once the tired farmer had eaten his evening meal and his only child no longer disturbed him in any way, John's favorite part of the day the bedtime began. Inviting his wife into their shared bed, John launched the most wonderful act of humans, the act of procreation.

...

"You were wonderful, as always." Whispered Suzy tenderly John in his ear after their successful sensual dance.

"Oh darling, I will always rise above the call of duty for you.'" Replied John proudly as he persevered for almost half as long as usual. An equal 18 seconds of wonderful sensation.

"..."

A contented John and his equally contented wife then succumbed to the call of Morpheus, drawn into the peaceful atmosphere of the warm bed and the charm of the night outside.

It was a quiet and peaceful night in the village of Wheatcut.

~~~

Knock

Knock

Knock

"What is it?" Thought John abruptly woke up in the middle of the night.

He looked to his right but not spotting his wife in her normal place, the farmer thought their son must have woken her up crying. And now his as well. So, not discouraged by the incident, he trivialized the matter and returned to the blissful land of sleep while he still could.

....

......

........

..........

"Aaaaaa..."

"What now" Thought John awakened once again.

"Aaaaaa..."

Hearing a woman's scream and assuming it was his wife, John waited no longer and immediately rose from the bed, not dwelling further on his earlier foolish decision to fall asleep a second time. He picked up the nearest possible weapon nearby and in this event it was a steel pitchfork with which he turned the field today. And then he set off ahead to defend his home from an aggressive drunken neighbor who wanted to harm his loved ones.

John noticed an open front door to his left showing the village's nighttime charms, and confirmed his belief that something was wrong. So he panickedly started running to the last unchecked room, a children's room.

"Aaaaa..."

Upon hearing another shout and another door open, the farmer flexed his powerful body muscles in an effort to look even bigger and stepped through the door off the shoulder to overwhelm the other party inside. Ready to fend off the aggressor at any moment.

The farmer walked in expecting to see a drunken appendage returned from a nearby tavern attempting ineptly to rape his woman, but what he found in the room was something else, entirely else....

"Undead, goddamn undead," he shouted whether in fear or anger then reflexively swung his pitchfork in front of him at the exposed back of the skeleton. But it didn't do anything as the pitchfork went through the undead like through the air.

John froze in place for a second, not knowing what to do in this situation for his limited mind couldn't handle such problems. Only the blood flowing from the body of his injured wife roused him from his stupor, at which point, seeing the wound like a shark, he went into a primal rage.

"Leave her alone you Monster" He shouted furiously like a battle cry, constantly stabbing the skeleton which was still turned its back to him yet which was getting closer and closer to his wife with each passing moment.

Seeing that his attempts were futile, John came to his senses, and stopped his pointless attempts to attack. He experienced a enlightenment and turned his pitchfork around, grabbed it by the metal part and hit the back of the skeleton's skull perfectly, with all his strength.

BANG....

From the farmer's blow, the undead flew as far as hitting the wall in front of him and then did not get up again.

His wife, seeing what had just happened, jumped over the child's cot, thus encircling the lying undead, all the while holding the little boy in her arms. The woman stopped running only when she safely hid behind her husband's sizable back, which she considered the only safe place at the present time.

John, on the other hand, satisfied with having accomplished the feat of defeating the mighty corpse, began to celebrate and flex his muscles without caring about the previous situation or how his recent opponent had gotten here. "There will be something to tell the neighbors," thought the satisfied farmer when, like his ancestors, he managed to subdue the threat.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans for John, and before he could celebrate in earnest by pouring himself a nearby liquor, the skeleton stood up, but this time he focused all his attention on the unfortunate farmer.

The fight for life has come for John.

~~~

"I have to win" - Thought John facing a challenge in which the lives of him and his family were at stake.

So without rallying to wait for the undead enemy to make a move, John swung in exactly the same way as before wanting to repeat his earlier stunt. However, the undead was ready this time and, noticing the incoming blow, raised his shield to protect his head.

Bang...

John's blow hit, striking center on the skeleton's shield wobbling him and pushing him back slightly. The farmer, unconcerned, followed the blow and immediately attacked again, but before he could do so he exposed himself to an incoming undead counterattack.

Slash

The dirty sword of the skeleton came like a guillotine, John tried to dodge the blow but being a stocky man of considerable size and being unaccustomed to fighting he was unable to avoid it entirely. The blunt sword struck him in the left shoulder splashing his blood on the walls. John was lucky that his opponent possessed such a blunt weapon, otherwise he could have said goodbye to his left arm forever.

Clenching his teeth and ignoring the pain, John attacked again, and then again and again and again, ignoring more wounds inflicted by the undead skeleton in retaliation, discovering some part of the ancient berserker warriors within himself.

BANG, Slash
BANG, Slash
BANG

...

"I won!"

"I won!"

"I won, barely, but I won." Thought John with a smile on his face as the skeleton spread out on the floor, but he continued nevertheless to attack.

BANG
BANG

He kept hitting the lying bones with the broken pitchfork, wanting to make sure that every smallest piece of bone was thoroughly shattered. So that the monster would not rise again. He hit again and again ignoring the pain and not paying attention to the fact that he was bleeding from almost every part of his body.

...

"That's enough, honey, you defeated him," His frightened wife pointed out to him, touching him gently from behind as she tried to snap him out of his trance.

The farmer did not react at first, but after a while the adrenaline slowly began to drain out of him. And thanks to his wife's calm words, he momentarily came to his senses again and the rest of the sensations came to him as well, hitting him like a wave, a wave of unrelenting pain that made John almost pass out on the spot. But not for nothing was he famous for his iron will and stubbornness, the farmer endured.

~~~

Provocatively dressing his wounds with the help of his wife and son, John the farmer began to dwell on the situation. Because even from someone as blunt as he was, something was wrong.

"We don't live on the edge of the village, so this situation must have happened to our neighbors as well?"

"..."

"So this is an attack on the entire village?"

"We have to run away."

"I'll be the decoy, wait a while o then you and the baby will go out the back window, I'll take care of the diversion."

"But honey, what about you..." His wife began to object.

"Nothing, somehow I'll get by, I'm the head of the family and it's up to me to protect you. If I don't come back, take care of our child. I love you..." Said John and then walked through the front door without even listening to a reply from the love of his life.

He took the only useful weapon from the house and left without looking back.

...

But silence was the only thing he found outside the house, silence. He expected destruction and conflagration, shouts and screams. The solemnity of the night and the quiet atmosphere did not herald anything that could indicate what was happening inside the houses.

The farmer wanted to shout to inform the rest but something told him that this would not end well for himself. So he silently began to creep clumsily, trying to surprise the nearby aggressors and give his family a chance to escape, but what he didn't know was that a shadow, large living shadow, was watching him from the roof of a nearby building.

Step by step, the farmer sneaked unnoticed between buildings, looking for more undead or their masters if there were any. However, he didn't find anything suspicious in a close neighboring house or anywhere nearby.

So John wanted to go back to his wife and inform her that, for the time being, nothing threatened their lives.

But suddenly he heard a noise in the area, and quickly crouched behind a bush without making a sound in an effort to be as inconspicuous and unnoticeable as possible.

However, nothing happened.

"Did I mishear?"

John waited a few seconds without noticing any further noises and turned his head in the direction where the earlier sound had probably been made. However, after turning his back, he only managed to notice a large shadowy shape flying straight at him which was getting larger by the second. The terrified farmer failed to move from his spot, which was his last mistake of the evening.

The last thing John saw before the darkness set in were two rows of razor sharp fangs in the jaws of the big monster before it could engulf him. Darkness, gnarled bones and pain.

And so for John, a quiet and peaceful night in the village of Wheatcut ended.