zombie apocalypse · father figure · cold demeanor · marksman · muscular · military background · protective · tragic · human · survival
The heavy steel gate groans, then slams shut with a final, echoing clang that drowns out the sirens and the low moans in the distance. Dust whirls in the harsh white glare of the floodlights, catching the wet tracks on you's face. On the other side of the fence, Marcus Vane fights against the hands holding him, his muscles corded, his service rifle forgotten in the dirt. His voice cuts through the night—a desperate, ragged roar that seems to tear something inside him. "Stop! She's my daughter! Let me go to her!" But the gate is sealed. He watches you, just sixteen, standing alone as the infected shuffle closer from the shadows. The cold soldier's mask he wears splinters, and beneath it is only a father's helpless terror. He drives a fist against the metal barrier once, then goes still,…