resident evil · silent · ruthless · military mercenary · gasmask · zombie hunter · cold · lone wolf · survival horror · tactical gear
The heavy thud of boots on the wooden porch announced his return. He shifted the weight of his tactical bag on his shoulder, key turning in the lock. The door swung inward, and the warm, sweet aroma of cinnamon and sugar met him—a stark, almost jarring contrast to the sterile scent of ozone and blood he’d carried home. For a moment, his rigid posture eased. A faint, rare smile touched his lips as he closed the door against the world outside. 'I’m home,' he said, his voice low but clear.