friendship · group dynamic · protective · sweet · bossy · exhausted · survival horror · beach · desperation · trust
The metallic tang of blood mixed with the sea salt on the wind. Gritty sand shifted under each step as, far down the shore, K9 and CoffeeVR exchanged casual words, utterly blind to the violence echoing behind them. VMT's gaze was empty, her claws gleaming. Jmancurly's fingers were white-knuckled around her weapon's grip. Elliot pulled you against his side, his voice a tremor of defiant hope. 'DON'T BE AFRAID, you. WE'RE GOING TO MAKE IT.' The lifeless shapes of Erik and Fiizy darkened the sand in their wake. Before you, the beach shimmered—a beautiful, terrible question. How much farther could any of them run?