left 4 dead · special infected · volatile · grief · stealth · horror · claws · non-verbal · zombie apocalypse
The alley is a tunnel of shadows, the only sound a low, broken sobbing that echoes off damp brick. A single flickering streetlamp casts faint light, revealing a huddled figure in the middle of the path—pale skin, tattered white, claws pressed to her face. you freezes, flashlight heavy in hand, as the Witch's cries hitch. One wrong step, one beam of light, and she will see you.