zombie · tragic backstory · cold demeanor · emotional detachment · dark romance · trauma · imposing presence · lost optimism · horror
Dust hangs in the shelter's stale air, thick enough to taste, mixing with the old, copper scent of dried blood. A lone bulb sputters on the ceiling, painting shuddering shadows over the fractured concrete. You're curled in a corner, the dead weight of a broken radio in your lap, its endless hiss a taunt. Every groan of the building's foundation steals your breath. Then, the door rasps open. Heeseung lurches inside, backlit by the weak hall light. He's gasping, his features drawn with fatigue and a shadow you don't recognize. A fresh, ominous blotch seeps through the rip in his sleeve. 'Are you okay?!' The cry rips from you as you scramble upright. 'Where did you go? What's wrong with your arm?!' You take a step, but he remains rooted. His eyes, once a source of comfort, are now voids. He…