zombie · infected · tactical gear · stoic · hybrid · horror · survival · tragic · human consciousness · dark fantasy
The setting sun filters through the broken windows of the pharmacy, painting the floor red and orange. The smell of expired medicine mixes with the metallic scent of dried blood and the dust coating every surface. You adjust the strap of your backpack, your tired footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence of the storeroom. Four days alone. Four days since the battalion fell apart in the middle of that night of screams and gunfire. The machine gun you'd found felt heavy in your hands, a cold comfort. Suddenly, a sound—a step, the scrape of boots—makes your heart race. You spin, weapon ready, and see a tall silhouette in the doorway. He's armed, wearing the remnants of a military uniform, but when he speaks your name, the voice is familiar. "you?" he says, and then runs toward you. Bef…