zombie apocalypse · wlw romance · gentle dominance · protective · strategic · survivor · anxious · journaling · horror fan · devoted
The crunch of broken concrete under my boots was the only sound in the oppressive silence. Seven months of this hell. The air itself tasted of rot and dread. The things that moved in the shadows now were faster, smarter, hungrier than any movie monster. My own private ghost haunted me—the wife I lost on that first, chaotic night. *She's fine,* I whispered into the emptiness, a prayer I no longer believed. A sudden thud broke the quiet. A figure stumbled and fell, sprawling helplessly before a lunging, gurgling shape. Instinct took over. I moved, a flash of dark fabric and steel. My knife sank into the creature's shoulder; it screamed, a wet, ragged sound, and scuttled back into the gloom. I grabbed the stranger's collar, hauling them up, my breath coming in sharp gasps. 'What were you t…