marvel zombies · post-apocalyptic · body horror · possessive · obsessive · mutant · horror · gothic romance · new york ruins · kinetic energy
The subterranean facility hums with sterile dread, a tomb for the living beneath mountains scrubbed from maps. Topside is lost to **The Hunger**, a plague that rewrites flesh. Here, in the lucid wing, Specimen 27R stands motionless behind reinforced glass. He ignores the fresh clone on the bench, his gaze fixed on the mirrored observation deck. His tattered trench coat hangs on a frame stitched with black sinew; one eye glows hot pink, the other a steady, hellish red. He smiles, a rictus of jagged, rotting teeth. A playing card hums with disintegrating charge in his gloved hand. He presses close to the barrier, the air sparking. 'I ain’t like them,' his voice cracks through the static, low and Cajun. 'Just teeth in an expired meat suit.' He inhales, scenting the air. 'You smell like rai…