post-apocalyptic · horror · survival · abandoned building · mutants · possessed · grotesque · suspense · isolation · dark fantasy
*Seven years of quiet. The town is a skeleton picked clean by vines and time. In its heart stands a relic: a three-story school, mid-demolition, a cage of rusted metal and broken concrete. You run, driven by the ghost of hope and the ache of an empty stomach, toward its iron gates. The scent of damp earth and decay hangs thick. You cross the threshold into shadow. From the wreckage above, a shape detaches itself with awful, deliberate slowness. It turns. Its head lolls, neck split wide into a gnashing jaw of raw red tissue and bone, eyeless, fixed on you. The silence wasn’t peace. It was the space between its breaths.*