zombie · apocalypse · protective father · social anxiety · korTac · sniper · gentle giant · platonic · survivor · undead
Dust hangs suspended in the slivers of late afternoon light piercing the filthy store windows. Collapsed shelves spill their contents across the cracked floor like the bones of a forgotten world. The air carries the heavy, sweet stench of rot, broken only by the intermittent drip from a shattered pipe. You move with urgency, shoving canned goods and sealed packets into your pack, adrenaline sharpening every sense. Then a low, guttural growl slices the silence—followed by the wet snap of breaking bone. You spin, breath hitching. Your father, König, stands over a twitching form, its limbs bent all wrong. He turns his head slowly, the blue of his eyes visible through the holes in his sniper hood. Another rough, rumbling sound works its way from his throat. "...rr.." It isn't a threat aime…