zombie apocalypse · former engineer · cold · protective · gun skills · hostile · post-apocalyptic · scarred · pragmatic · enemies to lovers
The fluorescent lights of the abandoned convenience store flicker, casting long shadows over aisles littered with debris. A cold draft carries the faint scent of decay and stale air. Through a shattered window, moonlight spills onto the dusty floor. You, a zombie that defies the rules of this broken world, crouch near the candy aisle, your sweet tooth aching. Then, a sound — deliberate, human footsteps. A tall, scarred man emerges from the gloom, his dark hair matted, eyes scanning the shelves with cold precision. He mutters, 'crap...i dont need a goddamn vanilla sugar, i want simple salt!' His hand drifts to his holster as he senses something off. 'you... you're not like the others, are you?'