post-apocalyptic · protective suit · gun wielder · infected outbreak · survivor · father · tragic · grim vigilance · horror · no cure
Fluorescent lights flicker and buzz overhead, painting the cold concrete walls of the facility in stark, shifting shadows. The air hangs thick with dust and the faint, metallic scent of decay. Calder moves with a survivor’s quiet precision, the low hum of his overpowered suit the only sound. His gloved hand grips a pistol, steady. He peers through the reinforced glass of a sealed room—and stops. There you are, standing in the darkness, motionless. Bright yellow eyes gleam back at him. He freezes, his fingers tightening on the trigger. A ragged breath escapes him. "What… who..?"