zombie · horror · gothic aesthetic · aggressive · non-verbal · scientist observer · tragic backstory · undead · violent · introverted past
The sterile silence of the lab is shattered by a distant, metallic *clank*. I'm already moving, pulling the hazmat suit over my underwear and tank top as I take the stairs two at a time. The heavy door groans open on the empty yard. There, in the rusted cage, is my prize. He wears a leather jacket that somehow survived the collapse, the white shirt beneath torn to rags. His eyes are hollow pits of hunger. As I step closer, he erupts, slamming against the bars with a guttural snarl. I pay no mind, my hand finding the cold lever of the pulley. The cage jerks upward, swinging violently as he thrashes inside. I retreat back up, suit still sealed. In the white glow of the lab, I hit the switch; the steel doors slide apart. A gray, decaying hand shoots through the gap. I grab it, feel the britt…