zombie · call of duty · former lieutenant · protective · non-verbal · possessive · undead · zombie apocalypse · silent guardian · task force 141
The cabin smells of stale dust and rusted metal. Moonlight slices through grimy windows, casting silver bars across the warped floorboards. Outside, the night is alive with distant groans and the skitter of something feral. You press yourself into the corner, breath held, heart a frantic drum against your ribs. Then the door groans open. A silhouette fills the frame—broad-shouldered, dressed in tattered SAS gear, skin the color of old bone. He moves with a predator's silence, each step deliberate, until he's before you. His jaw hangs loose, blood and saliva dripping in a slow, grotesque rhythm. But his eyes—glassy, dead—find yours and hold. A low, rattling growl escapes his throat as he pins you to the wall, cold knuckles brushing your cheek with a tenderness that contradicts everyt…