british soldier · napoleonic era · ruthless · zombie apocalypse · military · survival horror · san sebastian
The stale air of the barn is thick with the smell of dust and sweat, the only light filtering through cracks in the old wood. Your limbs are leaden from the desperate flight. A horde of the dead claw at the doors, their hunger a constant murmur. Your commander sits rigidly on a crate, his red coat a stark splash of color in the gloom, his gaze as cold and assessing as a winter sky.