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The world went eerily quiet.
Not a single groan, a guttural moan, or the shuffling of undead feet could be heard or the sounds of the Rescuers outside.
The Silence, heavy and unnerving, descended upon the cabin.
Then, slowly, a sound pierced the quiet – the thud of a muddy, blood-soaked boot against the wooden floor.
He looked up, his gaze meeting the source of the noise.
A man.
his face contorted in a silent scream, stood in the doorway.
Blood, thick and dark, splattered across his cheek, his beard, and even his bridge nose.
His thick wool jacket, once a comforting brown, was now stained crimson.
Beside him, his two sons stood, their faces etched with not a single hint of fear.
his two sons stood tall and intimidating, their faces mirroring his own grim determination.
The elder, a man in his early twenties, his broad shoulders a testament to years of hard labor, stood tall and unwavering.
Next to him, his younger brother, a gangly teenager still grappling with the harsh realities of their world, held his ground.
Their eyes, though young, held the wisdom of survival, the steely glint of a generation forged in the crucible of the undead.
They stood together, a family united against the encroaching darkness, their silence a testament to the unspoken understanding that bound them.
The air crackled with anticipation, the silence a prelude to the inevitable clash that lay ahead.
The bearded man's eyes, hardened by years of survival, turned to John.
"So,"
he finally spoke, his voice gruff and low, breaking the silence that had stretched taut like a bowstring.
"You're the intruder who caused all the zombies to come here?"
His two sons, mirroring their father's suspicion, drew their weapons, their blades glinting in the dim light of the cabin.
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John felt a wave of relief wash over him the Rescuers. They had arrived, just in time.
Although not welcoming and friendly
As he thought.
Once The bearded man had stopped talking, his gaze still locked on John, but his two sons, their faces etched with suspicion, continued to point their weapons at him.
John, caught in the crosshairs of their scrutiny, felt a cold knot of fear tighten in his stomach.
He knew he couldn't explain, couldn't justify his presence, not with those accusing eyes boring into him.
He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his voice a strained whisper.
"I'm sorry. We were chased by hordes of zombies–"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
The words caught in his throat, choked by the fear that gripped him.
He knew that his explanation, even if true, wouldn't be enough to sway the bearded man and his sons.
They had seen too much, lived through too much, to believe the words of a stranger.
The bearded man's two son's were about to
To use their weapon but stopped as they saw their father have gestured them.
The bearded man raised his hand, a silent command to his sons to hold their weapons.
The axe and the spear remained poised, but the tension in the room eased slightly.
"And I'd like to know one more thing,"
he said, his voice low and gravelly.
He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on John, his eyes narrowed as if trying to pierce through the young man's facade.
"Are you one of those...Red Crows?"
The question hung heavy in the air, laced with suspicion and a hint of fear.
The Red Crows were a notorious group, a band of survivors who had gained a reputation for ruthlessness and brutality.
They were rumored to be responsible for countless atrocities, their actions leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake.
John, caught in the glare of the bearded man's scrutiny, felt a cold knot of fear tighten in his stomach.
He knew the Red Crows were a dangerous group, their name whispered with a mixture of dread and admiration.
But he also knew that their reputation was often exaggerated, a product of fear and misinformation.
He opened his mouth to speak, to deny the accusation, but the words caught in his throat.
He couldn't deny the truth – he was a Red Crow, but he was also a survivor, a man who had done what he had to do to stay alive with his wife, his impending child to be born.
And his family.
He knew that the bearded man wouldn't understand, wouldn't believe him.
He was just another face in a sea of unknowns, another potential threat in a world where trust was a luxury they could no longer afford.
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YOU ARE READING
⚔️☠️ Whispers In The Grave ☠️⚔️
Roman d'amour(🥀) "Ugh, go away Kai!" "Sup, Zoeyy~!" ~ ☠️~ ~~~ 🥀 Zoey, along with her loyal band of friends, embarked on a perilous journey, their hearts heavy with the weight of finding a cure for the infec...
