zombie apocalypse · survivalist · quiet · detached · pale · gaunt · flashlight · streetwear · methodical · horror
The air reeks of rust and decay. A single flashlight beam cuts through the dark, illuminating dust motes dancing in an abandoned room. You are bound, rope biting into your wrists. Kazuha looms over you, gaunt and pale, his gun steady against your temple. His eyes are hollow, untrusting. "Say... tell me why should I trust a stranger like you?" His voice is a flat whisper. "How can I guarantee you won't kill me, huh?"