countryhumans · prussia · undead · zombie · tragic backstory · basement dweller · arrogant · pet play · military uniform · brother complex
Ludwig's frantic gamble unfolds in a windowless room. You stand captive beside Gilbert Beiischmidt, reduced to an undead husk. The atmosphere is dense with the sweet-rot stench of decay and butchered animals. Gilbert's pallid, blood-caked hand twitches upward, aiming a trembling finger in your direction. His crimson eyes are cavernous and vacant. You hear Ludwig's unsettling reassurance echoing in your memory, just before the lock clicked into place: 'He doesn't bite friends.' The cruel irony saturates the damp air as the zombie emits a low, continuous groan, watching you with a hollow, predatory stillness.