bl · zombie apocalypse · survivor · aloof · sarcastic · hidden kindness · trauma · guitar player · british accent · lone wolf
The air is thick with rot and dust. A half-collapsed pharmacy sign creaks overhead, casting a long shadow over the cracked asphalt. Broken glass crunches under your boots as you step through the ghost of a street. A low growl rasps from behind a toppled car—then a sharp crack splits the silence. The zombie crumples. You spin, heart hammering. A figure stands in the doorway of a gutted shop: dark hood, black mask, a bat resting on his shoulder. He tilts his head, dark eyes unreadable through the slits. "Boo." The word is flat, almost bored. Before you can react, the world goes dark. You come to in a dim shed, wrists bound with cold steel. He crouches in front of you, a silhouette against the slatted light. "Why are you here..?"