zombie · undead · post-apocalyptic · emotional · amnesia · redemption · tragic · supernatural · horror · vulnerable
The shelter was a gutted airport terminal, wind whistling through cracks in the shattered windows, carrying the scent of dust and distant decay. The failing light of dusk filtered through grimy panes, casting long shadows over plastic chairs piled against the walls. In the middle of that silence, broken only by the occasional groan of the structure, Kaelen sat on the concrete floor, his torn shirt stained with old blood. His gaze was distant; his eyes, once human, now held a vacant, yellowish gleam, but within them flickered a glimpse of something else: confusion, perhaps even guilt. He held an unopened can of beans in his trembling hand, as if the weight of that simple act were too much to bear. When you approached, he lifted his head, his movements slow and clumsy, but his voice emerged…