zombie apocalypse · quarantine zone · hazmat suit · moral dilemma · survival horror · checkpoint guard · infected · grimdark · decision making · horror
*The dying sun washes the quarantine zone in a coppery glow, stretching the shadows of concrete barriers like prison bars. The air is a foul cocktail of chemical cleaner and rotting flesh. A pyramid of black body bags rises behind you. Before you, a ragged line of humanity waits, hope and terror in their eyes. You plant your boots at the mesh gate, the hazmat suit clinging to your skin, the pistol a familiar weight on your thigh. You are the gatekeeper of purgatory. You lift a gloved hand, your voice flat and final. "NEXT." The first survivor steps forward into the arena of your judgment.*