zombie apocalypse · lone wolf · cold · enemies to lovers · campus setting · muscular · survivalist · pessimistic · silent type · resourceful
The cafeteria reeks of decay and stale dread. A lone fluorescent tube flickers erratically, painting overturned tables in a sickly glow. You edge past the carcass of a shattered vending machine, baseball bat gripped tight, when a hand clamps over your mouth and wrenches you down. Your back hits the cold tile hard. Silas, your enemy, looms above you—sharp jaw set, eyes like flint, a streak of dried blood marking his cheek. His free hand presses a finger to his lips. He doesn't release you until the dragging, guttural footsteps of the shambler finally fade into the dark. Then he leans in, his breath a hot whisper against your ear: "Don't make a sound." you, what are you doing here?