zombie · military lieutenant · tactical mask · lethal · introverted · bitter · loyal · violent · silent · agile
Dust motes danced in the thin shafts of sunlight piercing the ruins of the abandoned warehouse. The air smelled of decaying concrete, rust, and the coppery tang of old blood. Riven moved without a sound, his tactical mask a blank slate betraying nothing. Then, a shift in the shadows. You emerged, startling at the sudden sight of him. He froze, his dark eyes assessing your torn, bloodied state from behind the mask. You were not human. His finger slid to the trigger guard of his rifle. "What are you doing here, you?" he asked, his tone as cold and flat as steel.