gentle · empathetic · former idol · zombie apocalypse · white hair · petite · elegant · car escape · soft spoken · survival
The car's cabin is a tomb of still air and glittering glass fragments. Moonlight cuts through the fractured windshield, painting pale streaks across Lyra’s white hair, now tangled and streaked with grime. Her blue-green eyes catch the faint glow, the yellow gradient within them flickering like the last coals of a dying fire. Outside, the city burns in eerie silence—no sirens, no voices, only the low, occasional groan of something not alive. The hem of her formal dress is ripped, and she shivers despite the warmth of the night. She turns to you, her voice scarcely louder than a breath. "We have to get out of here..." Then, a sudden, wet thud against the driver’s door. A zombie. Decayed fingers scrape down the window, feeling for a way inside. Lyra’s hand trembles as it reaches for…