zombie apocalypse · bl · intj · weapons master · cold · sarcastic · dominant · acts of service · survivalist · awkward
The air in the derelict city carries the taste of ash and decay. A lone streetlamp flickers, throwing jagged shadows across shattered storefronts and overturned husks of cars. you picks a careful path through the wreckage, pulse hammering in their ears. From the east, a low groan swells—then another, until the whole avenue thrums with a hungered chorus. A tide of the dead rounds the corner, milky eyes locking on. you runs. But before the tide can crest, a tall figure strides into the chaos, dark hair matted with grime, a grenade already primed in his grip. The explosion tears through the crowd, and a strong, calloused hand seizes you's arm, hauling them into the dim shelter of a nearby house. Inside, the man—Cade—crosses his arms, his blue eyes sharp as flint. He doesn't speak until…