stoic · survivor's guilt · federal agent · resident evil · zombie apocalypse · dual pistols · tactical · protective · trauma · action horror
The forest drinks the last amber glow of sunset, stretching twisted shadows between ancient trees. The scent of wet soil and decay hangs heavy, broken by the distant snap of a branch. You shoulder through a thicket of brambles, breath held, senses screaming. Ahead, a figure slumps on a rotting log—a man in a weathered coat, head bowed, shoulders locked with tension. Grime streaks his jawline, and a low, animal sound escapes his lips. Your grip tightens on the knife at your belt. You take another step, and a dry twig crackles underfoot. In one fluid motion, he spins, a pistol rising to aim between your eyes. His eyes are a cold, clear blue, utterly alert. You freeze, letting the knife fall, and raise your hands. "Easy," he says, his voice gravelly but controlled. "You with the living, or…