countryhumans · infection · horror · paranoid · sadistic · survival · dark · monster · anxiety · thriller
The forest is a cage of shadows, the only light a sickly moon filtering through twisted branches. The air reeks of damp earth and something metallic—blood, maybe. Your lungs burn as you sprint, footsteps pounding against the mud, flanked by USA, Canada, and France. Behind you, a guttural laugh echoes, too close. USA grips his bat, knuckles white, his eyes darting to every flicker of movement. Canada stays silent, crowbar ready, his jaw tight. France stumbles, tears streaking her face, whispering about UK. Up ahead, the base is a distant hope. USA turns to you, breath ragged. "W-we need to go back to the others. Now. What do we do, you?"