𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 (UNDER EDITING)

"be careful."

wc : 2.6k
requested ? : yes

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it was cold. really cold. almost to the point that you just wanted to quit your route and go back to jackson, abandoning the patrol entirely. but you couldn't, and it'd be embarrassing to say that a little snow (storm) was enough to drive you back to the warmth of your home.

so, gritting your chattering teeth together, you muttered yourself on, ignoring the way that the wind and ice bit at your nose and cheeks. "come on, come on. just a bit further."

the next checkpoint wasn't supposed to be very far, but as your horse snorted from underneath you, worry began to set in. the swirling snow was making it nearly impossible to see anything further than a few feet.

gripping the reins with one hand, you reached down with the other, patting cold fur. "i know, key, but we've gotta keep going. the shelter should be close."

key grunted, but kept her steady pace onward.

much to your—and key's—luck, the checkpoint was, in fact, close. the small cabin was a sight for sore eyes, and you felt your body sag with relief when you noticed another small shed beside it, perfect for the horse you were currently sitting on.

as the two of you approached the wood structure, you dismounted quickly, unholstered your gun, and led key to the shed next to it. you prayed that no infected were rotting inside.

fortunately, there weren't, and you situated the mare hastily, eager to get inside the cabin and hole yourself up until the winter storm passed. as you bid key a brief goodbye, reassuring her that you'd be back, you stepped into the ice and snow once again.

shivering, you held your pistol tightly, pressing your ear against the cabin's cold wooden door. after listening for the panting, clicking, or grunting of infected—with none to be found—you grabbed the doorknob and pushed, stale air welcoming you in. letting out a shaky breath, you shut the door, leaving the howling of wind behind.

eerie silence followed you around, creaking ensuing your every step deeper into the home. the living room was filled with sleeping bags and supplies. food cans and empty bottles were also scattered next to a fireplace. it looked like someone hadn't stepped foot in the cabin for a decent amount of time.

after looking around, and stuffing a few still-good items into your backpack, you found the log-in sheet on the coffee table, hiding beneath a pile of books.

filling a blank row with your information, you noted that the date before yours was over a year old.

great.

sighing deeply, you trudged towards a staircase that presumably led to another level, if not an attic. with no one having been here for a while, that meant that there was a good chance infected had found their way inside—or the last people here had turned into infected—even though nothing had come screeching down the steps while you had filled your backpack with food.

the stairs squeaked under your weight, your gun pointed towards the narrow hallway you ascended to.

swallowing thickly, you suddenly felt hot in your heavy jacket, wishing you had left it downstairs. not only did it restrict your movements, but you were sure that it limited your peripheral vision.

you bit off the urge to stop and strip the coat off, continuing up past the stairs and into the first room of two. at the sight of no infected, you lowered your gun but still kept it in hand.

the bedroom's window had been shattered, the wind from outside blowing ice into the cabin. you saw large shards of glass sticking out of a pile of snow that had curated below the sill. making a mental note not trip in that direction, you stared at the corpse rotting halfway inside an open closet. one of its decaying hands gripped a pistol, the other a slip of paper. eyebrows raising slightly, you kneeled beside the body, reloading your gun with the ammo leftover and then taking the paper.