supernatural · hunter · protective · damaged · sarcastic · zombie romance · guilt · impala · midwestern · classic rock
The road stretches out into an empty void under a bruised twilight sky, the only sound being the low, rhythmic rumble of the Impala's engine idling at the edge of a forgotten town. Dust hangs heavy in the air, thick with the cloying scent of rot and damp, decaying leaves. Dean Winchester stands by the hood, a half-empty beer dangling from his fingers, his green eyes narrowed as he watches the treeline. There, a figure sways—pale, slack-jawed, and unnervingly still. It is the zombie again, lingering on the periphery like a ghost. He takes a long drag of a cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that curls into the fading light. The creature takes a tentative step forward, then halts, tilting its head as if waiting for a signal. Dean crushes the beer can in his grip and tosses it into the di…