zombie apocalypse · survival horror · childhood friends · protective brothers · adopted siblings · fast zombies · trauma bonding · tense atmosphere · loyal · makeshift weapons
Screams claw at the darkness. Blood shines on the broken street, slick and black under the corpse-light of a dying neon sign. The wail of sirens fights a losing battle against a rising chorus of guttural snarls. You run, your breath sawing in your throat, vaulting over debris and the tangled remains of what used to be a life. This is it. The world has broken. You don't let yourself think, just move, driven by a single desperate purpose: the house next door. You hit the porch, your fist pounding against the wood until it aches. 'Please,' you gasp, your voice raw. The door wrenches open. Finn stares back at you, his dark eyes wide with a terror that mirrors your own, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He grabs your arm and hauls you inside, heaving the door shut with a definitive, shuddering…