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The grizzly bear blinked sleepily as he ambled lazily from his den. Large jaws opened wide in a leisurely yawn, exposing rows of finger-long teeth. Small dark eyes blinked in the morning sunlight, already shining brightly despite the hour.

The bear took a few steps further into the open and paused for a stretch, arching his back, then bowing his front end to leave his large hind quarters up in the air. A few more steps found the beast in front of his favorite scratching tree and he took several minutes to rub the itches from his back using the tree's rough bark.

Spring was in the air and food was plentiful. There was no need to hurry yet. A young male in his prime, made of eight-hundred pounds of bone, flesh and fur, the bear had little to fear from challengers. He had reigned supreme in his territory for years beyond his short memory.

A sudden whiff of something unpleasant halted the morning pleasantries. Still standing on his hind legs, the bear lifted his large head and sniffed at the air. The stench of rot reached his sensitive nostrils, making him snort and toss his head in an attempt to expel the awful smell.

While the king of the forest was no stranger to death or decaying meat from meals left unfinished, there was something wrong with the wafting stench he had detected. Something unwholesome and unnatural about it.

Falling back to all fours, the large bear gave a huff and began to lumber away. There was plenty of fresh food available elsewhere. He relaxed once he was outside of the range of the unpleasant scent, pausing to pluck some ripe blueberries from a bush. The berries were plump and sweet, the juice tickling his tongue as he delicately plucked each one from its stem and crushed it between his powerful jaws. The large shaggy beast had just settled in for a leisurely feast of the sweet treats when a passing breeze brought another whiff of the terrible smell to his sensitive nose.

Normally, the bear's natural curiosity would drive him to investigate the nature of the stench that so plagued him, but instincts far stronger instead warned him to run away. To avoid the cause of the smell at all costs. Giving a reluctant glance at his breakfast, the bear ambled away, leaving the rest of the blueberries untouched.

Snatching a few mouthfuls of fresh grass as he walked took the edge off of the grizzly's considerable hunger, but after a long winter of fasting, his body demanded food. A thawing deer carcass caught his attention, the scent of it reaching his sensitive nose and leading him along, but just as it came into sight, he caught another whiff of the terrible smell, driving him away.

The bear decided that distance was what he most needed. Something in the area had gone wrong and he simply needed to put distance between it and himself before he could begin his feasting. Ignoring many of the tempting smells to reach him, the lumbering beast traveled several miles until he was sure he would be safe to indulge once again. Hoping to find a quick meal, the giant lifted his head to scent the air. Mingled among the various scents in the air, the terrible scent was even stronger than before.

With fear and frustration mounting, the beast sought safety in the air, trying to determine where the stench was coming from so he could get away from it. Rising to his hind legs, he raised his head high and inhaled deeply, but the scent seemed to be everywhere, coming from every direction, and it was getting stronger with every breath. Also alarming was the lack of scents from other animals, either chased away or masked by the stench.

Frightened and confused, the giant fell back to all fours and looked around him at the peaceful field he found himself in. The sun was shining merrily down on the dew-kissed grass. A gentle breeze sent the trees into flurries of whispers. Ripe berries hung temptingly from vines and bushes. Thick tubers and roots sat just beneath the surface, waiting to be dug up and harvested. Plump insects crawled through tunnels and burrowed into rotten logs. It should have been a perfect day, full of foraging and feasting, but a growing fear tempered the king's appetite. While he had been sleeping away the winter months, something evil had invaded his home.

The grizzly's instincts told him to run, find safety, to escape the invisible menace closing in around him, but with every direction the same he didn't know where safety was. Confused, the beast let of a roar of frustration and shifted his weight from side to side. He could handle an enemy he could see. He was no stranger to fighting with other bears for mates, territory and food. He could even deal with the occasional wild fires that cropped up from time to time. But whatever he scented in the air was a new threat unlike any he had faced before and he had no prior knowledge to draw from. It was almost a relief when he heard the groan.

Jerking his head in the direction of the noise, the bear once again rose to his hind legs and sought out the source. From the tree line, a single human shambled free of the shadows and slowly made its way towards him. The human wore shabby clothes, it's grey skin as filthy and torn as it's coverings, and even from a distance it reeked of rot and disease. It was the source of the smell.

Humans the bear knew and could deal with. They were no exotic threat. Relieved to finally understand what he was facing, the bear gave another roar of warning, but the shambler ignored it, continuing to approach at its sedate pace.

The king felt relief rather than anger at the insubordination. He finally had a face to the enemy; a tangible target he could overcome. He left out another roar and slammed a mighty paw on the ground, still expecting the human to flee in terror of his might. Instead of running away, the stumbling menace simply let out a hungry groan and continued its approach.

Eager to dispatch the ghoul and begin feeding, the grizzly charged the slow interloper. A single swipe of his mighty paw sent the enemy crumbling into a pile of parts, it's disgusting stench polluting the already tainted air. Te beast gave a snort of satisfaction, then another to clear his nose of the smell, and turned away to run toward cleaner air.

He had just made it to the top of a small hill, however, when another moan and fresh burst of odor reached him. The grizzly turned and saw a new human stumble from the woods where the first had come, arms extended as if it wanted to give him a hug. A second human was only a few steps behind the first.

As the bear watched them approach, he knew that something wasn't right, but he couldn't quite understand what it was. The humans moved with unsteady, jerky movements. They made no effort to hide from him nor chase him away with loud noises or waving their arms. They didn't raise any flashing black boxes to take his picture nor did they carry any weapons to shoot at him with. They didn't appear dangerous and he had destroyed one of their number already with ease, but he still had a growing urge to flee.

Deciding to listen to his instincts, the bear turned away and began to run. A life time of being an apex predator had not prepared the large beast to act as prey on the run. He fled for the forest that had always offered him protection and sustenance before, trampling everything in his path.

Not a single bird called out from the trees. No squirrels barked as he passed. Even the insects were quiet. The unnatural stillness only worked to increase the king's fear. Instincts far older than himself drove him to run, to find safety, that fighting carried too much risk.

Thick muscles writhed beneath a coat of shaggy fur not yet shed as the grizzly bolted, not heading in any particular direction, merely trying to get away. Avoiding bushes and trees in his path, is only thought was escape from the strange enemy that plagued his every step and clung to him with phantom fingers of scent.

It was exhaustion rather than safety that finally stayed his lumbering steps. Raising his head to scent the air, the king felt a sudden rush of relief. Beneath the stench of rot was a much more pleasant smell; a familiar smell. Bears. The scent of any creature besides his enemy was welcome, the fact that they were more of his own kind was an extra boon. While the beast didn't understand the concept of safety in numbers, something in his brain told him that he would benefit by joining them.

Gratitude lightening his burden, the grizzly eagerly made his way toward where the scent originated, quickly finding the mouth of the cave that served as a den. The sounds of movement from within told him that the inhabitant was just beginning to stir from their own winter slumber.

Approaching the dark hole, the king chuffed to let the inhabitant know he was approaching. Too tired to fight, the last thing he wanted to do was surprise a mother. When he received no sound of opposition, he hurried is pace with an eagerness to get out of the open.

The bear felt himself begin to relax as he got closer to the den, feeling safety was a few mere steps away, but he froze as he finally reached the lip of the den. Instincts far older than himself, instincts that had kept him alive for so long, had served him so well, no warred with each other about his next action and left him unable to move. Paralyzed with indecision, the beast could only stand and stare, so terribly alone.

The den had indeed been occupied, Once past the narrow mouth, the cave itself was wide and spacious, a rare communal den. Inside lay a near carpet of bodies; sows, cubs, and younger males not yet large enough to claim territories and mating rights for themselves. And feasting upon them all was an enormous horde of the very enemy the king had been fleeing since he awoke.

The undead crawled across the bodies like ants, chewing, tearing, swallowing whatever they could fit down their decaying gullets. They busied themselves dismembering their once slumbering prey, their voracious appetites sparing only bones and stray tufts of fur.

The king could only stare helplessly at the carnage, too exhausted to flee and unable to come to any other decision. He began to sway side to side, his head lowering to the ground as he began to accept his inevitable defeat. Had the king of his forest been wearing a crown, it would have fallen to the ground in a thunderous clatter, calling an end to a powerful, if far too short, reign.

As one, the horde suddenly took notice of the visitor in their midst, as if alerted by just such a sound. Insatiable hunger rekindled, the revenants gave an excited groan and abandoned their meals in favor of fresher meat. The creatures rose to their feet and stumbled toward the beast with arms extended, greedy fingers clenching and unclenching in anticipation.

Within seconds, too many bodies tried to fit through too small a space and clogged the cave mouth, but a few managed to wriggle free and approach the still swaying bear. As the grizzly felt the first bite to his shoulder, anger burned through his ennui. Giving a fearsome roar, the dethroned king swatted the bold pest, which crumpled at his touch.

More approached, and another mighty swipe of his great paw brought down three more of the creatures, but the writhing cork of bodies soon managed to untangle itself, swarming the angry grizzly like a cloud of wasps, their broken teeth jabbing into his thick coat, their clutching fingers grasping at his ears, face and legs.

They ignored his roars, had no fear of his fearsome teeth and claws. Although he tore them down with ease, there were always more to replace them. They crushed into him, biting, clawing, grasping, until the beast couldn't move, could barely breath. The last of his energy was spent struggling to move his large head out of the grip of several of the creatures.

His thick hide protected him against the shamblers for a time, but bites to his face took chunks out of his sensitive nose and crushed his small eyes. His ears were soon torn and ragged, blood dripping down into the groaning mouths of is devourers.

Eventually the crush of rotting bodies managed to roll the grizzly onto his side, finally exposing his tender belly to the hungry horde. He could not even flail his legs as he felt himself torn open, rotting creatures crawling into the cavity and entangling themselves into his entrails.

Blinded, weak, and being eaten alive, the last thought the fallen king had as his life fled away, was how the day had started with such promise, but that promise had been broken. The bear's consciousness was finally washed away on a wave of acceptance.

Note from the author: Because FUCK BEARS!!