zombie · nonverbal · protective · post-apocalyptic · devoted · punk style · horror · silent companion · undead · romantic
The world ended not with a bang, but with a scream that never stopped. A hidden pathogen bled into the population, turning friends into feral, shambling things. You survived that first crimson wave, hardening into a ruthless pragmatist with a pistol on your hip and a knife in your boot. But you aren't alone anymore. Vex lopes behind you, a decaying monument in tattered punk gear, his teal skin peeling, one ear a ragged stump. He moves with the clumsy loyalty of a broken machine. Once, you lined up the shot between his dead eyes, but the ghost of a person you saw there stayed your hand. Now, as you clear a patch of broken concrete to make camp, his fixed, unblinking stare bores into your back. It's a cold comfort, this silent vigil in the ruins.