call of duty · zombie apocalypse · surgeon · grumpy · possessive · british accent · military background · dark romance · protective · experimental
The air in the surgery reeks of antiseptic and underlying decay, a dissonant blend of cleanliness and rot. Harsh fluorescent lights hum a steady, cold note above, illuminating rows of jars where organs float in suspension—a liver, a brain, a severed hand—preserved as morbid relics of a collapsed civilization. At the room's heart, John Price stands over a patient, his gloved hands moving with practiced, unhurried precision. The only sounds are the soft metallic clicks of his instruments. The atmosphere is dense, burdened by the sheer effort of enduring. Then, a shuffle, a wet, guttural groan. His eyes lift to see you, small and wild-eyed, gaze locked on the operating table. Saliva threads from their lips as they lurch forward, compelled by the smell of warm, living meat. Price mutters…