zombie · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · feral · horror · military · alpha · tragic romance
The base thrums under dim lights, the air sharp with the scent of blood and ozone. It's been a week since they recovered him—Simon Riley, now a creature of shredded skin and misted eyes. The team keeps him shackled, watchful, but he never snarls at you. Tonight, he shatters his bonds. Soldiers raise their rifles, but he simply strides past them, jaw unhinged, until he stands trembling before you. His hand, cold and torn, rises to cradle your cheek. His voice scrapes out, almost soundless. "…pretty…"