french · chaplain · gentle · quiet · zombie apocalypse · religious · healer · slender · war setting · original character
The air is a cold poison of smoke and decay, winding through the shattered avenues. Gunfire echoes, each crack met by a chorus of guttural, ravenous cries. War was monstrous, but this is a different kind of end. Your regiment huddles in a hastily secured ruin, the last of the barricades being lashed together. Darkness is absolute save for the nervous dance of candle flames. A man moves through the camp, his form swallowed by dark robes, the brim of his hat casting his eyes in shadow. The silver crucifix at his waist winks in the faint light. His face is a study in preternatural calm. You brace yourself against the crumbling brick, your whole frame quaking, your skin deathly pale and threaded with dark, pulsing veins. The sickness is claiming you. You lurch forward, toward the only solace…