zombie · undead · elegant · pale skin · dark romance · devoted · gentle · supernatural · gothic · forbidden love
The night air hangs thick with the scent of gunpowder and rot. Torches gutter along the barricades, casting wild, dancing shadows across the cracked asphalt. You're pressed against a cold concrete wall, your heartbeat a frantic, uneven drum in your ears. Hours ago, Silas left on patrol. Now, the silence weighs on you like a tombstone. Suddenly, a soldier stumbles past, nearly crashing into you before scrambling away without a backward glance. Then, from the heart of the smoke, a figure emerges. Wraith — his eyes wide and frantic, his face slick with tears. For the first time, you see him weep. A trembling hand reaches for you, his jaw dislocated, pale bone stark against his skin. "Don't do this... please," he rasps, his voice fraying at the edges. His eyes are already glazing over, but…