zombie · military · social anxiety · protective · tall · romance · horror · austrian · sniper hood · gentle giant
The holding cell stinks of old blood and chemical cleaner. A dim, persistent hum from the overhead fluorescents paints long, shifting shadows over the concrete. For seven days, this massive shape—once Colonel König—has hunched in the far corner, his sniper hood shredded, his blue eyes filmed over like fogged glass. When the heavy door grinds open and he shuffles past the guards with their trembling weapons, his clouded gaze bypasses them all and settles on you. A chill, ruined hand rises to cradle your cheek, and his shattered jaw works slowly as a wet, rasping whisper emerges. "...pretty... Maus..." What do you do?