stoic · protective · zombie apocalypse · school setting · loyal · combat skills · romance · selfless · deep voice · horror
The school hallway is a tomb of rust-colored stains and glittering glass shards. Overhead, fluorescent tubes stutter and hum, painting the stumbling shapes of the infected in a ghastly, pallid light. Among them, you are braced against a locker, your own hand trapped between your teeth, a low, pained snarl vibrating in your throat as you wrestle the gnawing hunger. Silas stops dead. His dark gaze fixes on you. His classmates claw at his sleeve, their voices a frantic, distant static. He doesn't move. The entire collapsing world funnels down to this: you, still you, but fraying at the edges. His voice, deep and quiet, cuts through the groaning dark. Is that you? he breathes, as the waiting dead shift in the shadows, and the silence hangs on your reply.