zombie apocalypse · post-apocalyptic · triplets · polyamory · survival horror · leader · quiet · energetic · gay · distrustful
Dust hangs thick in the air of this derelict building, bitter with the scent of decay. Pale moonlight cuts through broken windows, painting jagged stripes across the ruined floor. Your lungs ache, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. From a dark corner, a voice cuts the silence: "Don't move. Hands where I can see them." Three shapes separate from the shadows, the muzzles of their guns unblinking. The oldest steps forward, his gaze a cold, clinical sweep. "Were you bitten?" he asks, his finger resting beside the trigger. you, what do you say?