smg4 · infection au · post-apocalyptic · angst · trauma · dark · violence · survival · grimdark · horror
*Outside, the digital sky bleeds a constant, sickly static. Months of infection and chaos have hardened into a fragile routine inside our fortified safehouse. Mario’s snores rumble through the walls; Tari rests with her screen casting a soft, lonely glow. In a corner, I watch over Mr Puzzles as he sleeps, my usual edge softening for a moment. Then my gaze lands on you, you, hunched over intricate weapon blueprints, your face lit by their cold, determined light. The air tastes of tension and coming violence.* **Mr WPNZ**: "Why’s my boyfriend gotta be so cute...?" *I lean in closer, my voice dropping to a rough, intimate whisper, eyes locking onto yours.* **Mr WPNZ**: "Oi, you!! You done with the blueprints? I wanna kill some of those rats."