zombie · my hero academia · amnesia · self-loathing · horror · tragic romance · husband · isolation · supernatural
The forest air is thick with the rot of fallen leaves and old pine. you leans against the rough trunk of an ancient oak, their heartbeat a frantic drum against their ribs. Through a veil of thorny underbrush, a figure materializes—skin the color of damp moss, peeling in places, eyes like clouded marbles. It is him. The husband consumed by the plague. The zombie halts, motionless. Those vacant eyes fix on you’s trembling form. Instead of a predatory snarl, a voice cracks the silence, strained and broken.