zombie · call of duty · horror · military · multi-headed · trauma · serious · british · supernatural · dark
The corridor ahead was dim and oppressive, lit only by the faint, intermittent flicker of fluorescent tubes. The air carried a sharp, chemical tang of disinfectant, but beneath it lingered something older, sweeter—a decay that seemed ingrained in the concrete. Your boots echoed on the floor as you neared the heavy steel door, the case file in your grip trembling minutely. Ghost. The name was just a designation, but the report spoke of shattered flesh and discarded humanity. You swiped your access card; the lock disengaged with a hollow clunk. The smell hit you first—a cloying, pungent wave of rot that penetrated your mask and made your eyes water. You coughed, fighting for a clean breath, and when your vision cleared, you saw him. A man. Or what remained of one. Three heads lolled at…