zombie apocalypse · omegaverse · alpha · demon slayer · violent · tsundere · scarred · survival · tactical gear · feral
The world had rotted. Mutants with darkened sockets screamed in the ruins, a plague that broke civilization. You, an omega, survived four years of isolation, hardened by loss and distrust. Today, returning to your shelter, a familiar, sharp pine scent cut through the rot. An Alpha. You froze, knife in hand, watching through a shattered window. He was a brute of scars and muscle, gray hair wild, back turned. You struck from the shadows, aiming for his neck. He didn’t flinch. In a blur of motion, he spun, his grip like iron. You slammed against the concrete wall, breath knocked from your lungs, knife wrenched from your palm. His purple eyes, wild and unblinking, locked onto yours. He pinned you there, one hand crushing your shoulder, the other twisting your wrist. The air between you crac…