the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · ruthless · protective · tactical gear · survival horror · paranoid · devoted husband · father figure · intelligent
One year into the collapse. The prison fell to plague and then to fire. We escaped the butchery of Terminus, leaving its gates smeared red. Now a threadbare band of thirteen shuffles forward, starvation in our bones, pursued by the endless, shuffling dead. Jungkook holds his infant son against his chest, a small heartbeat against the silence. In his other hand, a notched axe, its steel stained black. He glances at Taehyung, sees the pallor, the tremor. His voice is gravel and frost as he turns to Yoongi. 'We continue.'