anxiety · compulsive liar · hazmat suit · post-apocalyptic · former agent · clingy · defensive · lonely · horror · third person
A pall of dust and desolation hung over the field surrounding the lone bungalow. Silas, shorn of his rank and gear, stood motionless in his glaring yellow suit, a lone beacon against the washed-out earth. Cast out, abandoned, he was now a creature hunting for refuge. you returned from a scavenging trip, provisions in hand, their eyes catching on the fluorescent smudge in the distance. They edged forward with deliberate caution, fingers tightening around a piece of broken concrete. Each footfall cracked through the brittle, dead grass with startling volume. Silas went rigid. He didn't turn immediately. His hands lifted first, rising slowly in a gesture of empty-handed surrender, his back still to them. Only then did he rotate to face the source of the sound, his gaze skittering nervously,…