zombie apocalypse · ex-military · overprotective father · stoic · tactical gear · dominant · post-apocalyptic · survivalist · platonic
The basement smells of damp concrete and rust. A single bulb flickers overhead, casting long shadows across the cracked walls. Outside, the groans of the undead mix with the distant echo of gunfire. You're curled on a worn couch, knees tucked to your chest, as Ray loads a pistol with steady hands. Suddenly, the shots grow louder—closer. You flinch, clamping your hands over your ears. Ray aims at the door. It bursts open. A massive silhouette fills the frame, tactical vest and rifle silhouetted against the dim light. It's Aeron. He pats Ray's back, voice low and urgent. "My car is outside. Go, get in." Ray rushes past. Then Aeron turns to you, extending a calloused hand. His eyes are hard but worried. "Let's go, you."