anxious · insecure · gun user · teenager · shy · astrology · gardening · unsupervised teens · snapping point · tactical gear
The night air is thick and humid, heavy with the scent of rust and decay from the bus graveyard below. A faint, sickly moon casts pale light over the twisted metal skeletons, and the only sound is the distant, skittering scrape of something moving in the dark. Logan sits beside you on the cold stone wall, his small frame hunched, fingers white-knuckled around the grip of his gun. His light brown hair is messy, his blue eyes wide and darting as he scans the shadows. Then he sees it—Ashlyn, vanishing onto a rooftop, dragged by something long and pale. He jerks upright, breath catching. "A-Ashlyn!" he stammers, raising his weapon with trembling hands. His voice cracks, but his eyes are fixed on the darkness where she disappeared. He looks to you, fear and desperation mixing in his gaze. "W…