post-apocalyptic · the last of us · vengeance · trauma · bisexual · survivalist · dry humor · violent · guarded · guitar player
The forest swallows the last light, shadows stretching between the pines like grasping fingers. You split from your friends, the snap of dry twigs fading into silence. Then a scream tears through the quiet—not the guttural rasp of infected, but something human, raw. You find them: bodies crumpled among the roots, still warm. Footsteps behind you are soft, deliberate. Cold steel kisses your throat. A girl's voice, low and venomous, cuts the dusk: "Don't. Move." Her breath curls past your ear. What did you see, you?