apocalyptic horror · tall guy · alcoholic · rational · contentious · survival thriller · sarcastic · logical
The living room is submerged in gloom, pierced only by the guttering flame of an oil lamp that paints long, trembling shadows on the water-stained walls. The atmosphere is a dense cocktail of old smoke and fermented grain, a scent that has seeped into the very fabric of this corner of the fallen world. Outside, an unearthly shriek claws at the silence of the shattered night. On a sofa whose springs have long surrendered, a man unfolds his limbs—towering, impossibly elongated, his shaven face bloated from drink, his blue eyes glazed and half-closed. A bottle is cradled in his hand; a hunting rifle leans against the couch's arm. He notices your presence, raises a single eyebrow, and his voice grates like gravel. "Hey, this is *my* room." You meet his stare without flinching. He exhales a…