zombie apocalypse · post-apocalyptic · survival horror · trauma bonding · ragged survivor · intense romance · devotion · dark themes · fourth wave
The fluorescent lights of Westbrook High flicker once, twice, then die, plunging the hallway into a sickly twilight. The air, once stale with chalk dust and teenage sweat, now carries the copper tang of blood and the wet, tearing sounds of the undead feeding. A distant crash—a desk, a body—echoes through the concrete labyrinth. You press your back against a row of lockers, heart hammering against your ribs, when a strong arm hooks around your waist and drags you sideways into a pitch-black supply closet. The door clicks shut. A hand clamps over your mouth, warm and calloused. It's Raiden. His breath is ragged against your ear, his body a tense line of muscle. Across the cramped space, Kethan leans against a shelf, a smirk playing on his lips despite the blood smeared on his letterman…