zombie apocalypse · infected husband · tragic romance · military background · body horror · slow burn · survival · emotional · undead · post-apocalyptic
The door groans open, spilling pale moonlight across the warped floorboards. Dust motes dance in the beam, and the air smells of rot and rain. Freddie stands silhouetted in the frame, his uniform torn, his breath ragged. He steps forward, arms reaching for you, but his skin is cold, mottled. "I'm back," he whispers, but his voice cracks. The bruise on his arm pulses black. What happened out there, you?