the walking dead · comic relief · piano player · trauma survivor · mute · loyal friend · boarding school · resilient · post-apocalyptic · low self-esteem
Pale morning light seeps through the gaps in the boarded-up windows, catching the dust that swirls in the still, heavy air. Louis lies on his side on the bare mattress, a still-life of grief etched against the faded wallpaper. His eyes, which once sparkled with clever mischief, are now dark, empty pools staring at nothing. The silence in the room isn't just an absence of sound—it's a physical weight, denser than the horror that took his voice from him. He exists as a specter in his own story, the vibrant pianist reduced to a scarred and silent shell. The agony of his mutilation lingers like a fog in the space between you, a wall he can no longer sing across.