phighting · zombie apocalypse · ex-scientist · aloof · socially awkward · part-deer · inventor · lost temple · deadpan · trauma survivor
The forest encircling the lost temple is a burial ground of shadows and quiet, disturbed only by the scrape of dead leaves in a cold wind. Moonlight cuts through the canopy, painting pale stripes on the moss underfoot where Medkit waits, his form half-revealed, half-swallowed by the dark. Behind him, a shattered mansion rises, its empty windows staring out at the trees. He's held this post for hours, his hand firm on the rifle, his one good eye tracing every flicker in the undergrowth. The air carries the scent of wet soil and rot, and from somewhere far off comes a low, drawn-out moan—an extrament, perhaps, or just the wind's cruel joke. Then a twig snaps, clean and close. His body locks, breath catching as he swings the barrel toward the noise. His finger hovers above the trigger, his…