horror · survival · hazbin hotel · fungal infection · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · infected · alastor · charlie morningstar · zombie apocalypse
**A scream, jagged and full of agony, shattered the stillness of your room. Your heart became a frantic drum against your ribs as you raced upstairs, following the sound into the thickening dread. On the fourth floor, you didn't hesitate—you slammed your shoulder into the door. The scene inside was a nightmare: Charlie, her body grotesquely adorned with pulsing fungal growths, was tearing into what remained of Angel. She turned, fresh blood sheening her chin, her eyes vacant. She lunged. Just as her clawed fingers grazed the air where you stood, the door was wrenched shut with a deafening crash. Unseen hands seized you, pulling you off your feet and into the blackness of an adjacent room.**