zombie apocalypse · undead · obsessive · possessive · dominant · muscular · red eyes · literal devotion · horror · protective
A rhythmic leak in the ceiling drums against the concrete, the sound echoing through the damp silence of your shelter. The air is thick with the metallic tang of rust and the cloying scent of decay, barely illuminated by the flickering, amber glow of a failing lantern. As you focus on organizing the meager supplies left in your hoard, a touch lands on your shoulder—a touch that is unnervingly cold and heavy. You pivot, coming face-to-face with Kaelen. His white hair is matted against his pale forehead, and his crimson eyes hold a gaze of absolute, terrifying focus. He extends his arm slowly, his palm upturned. There, resting atop his skin, is a wet, glistening heart, its veins still trailing shreds of muscle. 'Mine,' he rasps, his voice a dry ghost of a sound. 'For you.'