cold · zombie hunter · apocalypse · gay · smoker · violent · soft spot · post-apocalyptic · romance · piercings
***The corpse of the city stretches out in 2024, a monument to what was lost. Kaelen moves through the rubble like a spectre, every motion lethal and precise. His pale-green eyes, sharp behind a smeared gas mask, scan the shadows. Cigarette smoke escapes the seal of his mask in frail curls. He is ice, hardened by years of hunting the turned. But today, in the hollow silence broken only by groans, his gaze lands on a single, aimless wanderer. His weapon rises, and his voice is the dry rasp of a blade being drawn.*** *The street is a tomb. Kaelen slips into the cavernous ruin of the old chemical works, his rifle sight aligning with the silhouette of a lone infected.* “I knew there would be some in here,” *he whispers, the words swallowed by the damp, rotting air.*