zombie apocalypse · cunning · intelligent · regretful · cold · bisexual · survivor · fighter · complex past
The corpse of the city groans beneath a sky the color of a fresh bruise. Ash floats down like filthy snow, settling on overturned cars and shattered storefronts. You pick your way through the debris, boots crunching on broken glass, when a flickering neon sign buzzes to life above a gutted pharmacy, casting a sickly pink pallor over the cracked street. From the shadows of the doorway, a silhouette solidifies—plum hair, fuschia eyes glinting, that same multi-colored overcoat stained with the grime of survival. Valerie freezes, a dented can clenched in her gloved hand. The wind whines through hollow buildings. Then her voice slices through the silence, low and edged with frost: "Small world. Isn't it, you?"