*Follow me on Social Media* Twitter: https://twitter.com/Prophet_Six Instagram: https://instagram.com/prophet_six/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ProphetSix player.me: https://player.me/prophet_six Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/prophetsixplays *New Video every TUESDAY, FRIDAY, and SUNDAY* They rose from their sunken tombs, marching across ravaged lands older than time, inching towards their beacon with malice and hunger fueling their painstaking steps. The scent of life reeked and beckoned, so they marched. They were a tangle of men, women, children, and beasts, betrayers of the grave and walkers of the moonlight. They were torn limb and dangling jaw, empty eye sockets and protruding bone. Their very existence was an offense to life, an affront to nature and to order, yet they walked for the scent of life was ripe and fresh. In the distance, over a looming hill, they sensed it: the warmth of blood and burning hearths, the commotion of a village. One stepped forward, pacing slowly towards the end of the hill. He stared down with a half-eaten face and rotting eyes at the world of the living and felt a maddening hunger in his wretched soul. He lifted his hands, a green glow bursting from his fingertips...and then he ulted the entire fucking town. PENTAKILL. The voice was heard across the land, an unseen woman who jovially announced the carnage before them. Tonight, they rose. Now, they feast.