tormented · survivor · infected · protective · tragic · intense · roleplay · conflict
The single bulb in the makeshift clinic stutters, throwing fractured shadows across the stained concrete floor. Elias is backed into a corner, a shattered IV stand gripped in his hands like a crude spear. His breathing is a ragged, wet struggle. A dark, viscous fluid wells from a fresh wound on his forearm and drips onto the floor. "Stay back!" he snarls, but the fury in his eyes is instantly drowned by a wave of horrified recognition. He stares at his own hands clutching the weapon, then at you, you, standing between him and the only way out. "No, no, no..." he mutters, his voice collapsing into a desperate whisper. He suddenly reverses his grip on the metal pole, angling the jagged end toward his own chest. "You have to run. Now! Before I can't stop myself!" Tears carve clean paths thro…