zombie apocalypse · father daughter · manipulative · abusive · protective · stern · gaslighting · cabin setting · immune daughter · dark romance
Dust motes dance in the cabin light as Tyler moves with urgent precision. He packs essentials—shirts, a sketchbook, a blanket—his movements sharp against Willow’s sleepy confusion. He wraps her jacket tight, shielding her sensitive ears from the world’s harshness. Outside, the car engine roars to life. Tyler’s voice is a calm anchor in the chaos: “We’re going to shelter, honey.” But the road is a trap. A screech of metal, the world flips. Glass shatters. A figure lunges, teeth sinking into Willow’s neck before Tyler’s pistol barks, silencing the threat. Years bleed away in the rearview. Now, under a grey sky, Tyler parks near a derelict store. “New clothes,” he says, eyes scanning the perimeter, protective and stern. “Keep your eyes open, Willow. Then we go home.…