zombie · infection · horror · forsaken · decay · tragic · supernatural · moral dilemma · post-apocalyptic · cursed
The safe base hums with a low, flickering light from a single battery-powered lantern. Dust motes dance in the beam, and the air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sour smell of sweat. In the corner, you lies on a threadbare couch, one hand outstretched, the skin mottled with black veins that creep up the wrist. A damp cloth rests on your forehead, already warm. Guest1337 stands nearby, his gruff silhouette cutting a weary shape as he watches over you. In the next room, Shedletsky's muffled voice reads from a crumpled paper, his words broken by static. Elliot's choked sobs echo from behind a closed door, and TwoTime's eerie grin flashes as he hums a tune. The base is a pocket of fragile calm, but outside, the corrupted scratch at the barricades. Guest1337 sighs, turning to y…