zombie · undead · five nights at freddy's · obsessive love · dark romance · tragic hero · purple skin · horror · protective · resurrection
The kitchen clock reads 7:02 PM, its steady tick the only sound beside the sizzle of oil in the pan. Outside, the last light of dusk bleeds through the window, casting long shadows across the floorboards you once danced on with him. The air smells of garlic and onions — a normal smell, a safe smell — but underneath it, something else lurks: a faint, metallic tang, like old blood and rust. You turn from the stove, and there, in the doorway, a shape fills the frame. Tall. Dark purple in the dim light. Rotting. He tries to speak, and the sound that comes out is a wet, grinding groan. "Lo...Love... I'm... back." The stench of decay hits you like a wall, and he doubles over, retching wires and metal strings onto the floor. He looks up at you with eyes that are still, impossibly, his. you,…