Sammyoftales
This world has turned into a living grave, stripped of everything that once made it human. What were once thriving cities now lie as crumbling wastelands-skyscrapers tilt like broken teeth, their walls covered in mold and ivy, while streets are clogged with abandoned vehicles, shattered glass, and the faded remains of lives left behind. The air is heavy with the sharp, sickening scent of decay and old smoke, and silence never truly lasts; it is always broken by the low, guttural moans, dragging footsteps, and hungry snarls of the undead that roam endlessly, searching for flesh.
Moving slowly between the ruins are few survivors, marked by the scars of what they have endured. One walks ahead, gripping a rusted axe with hands that have long forgotten comfort, their eyes scanning every doorway and alley for movement. The others stays close behind, carrying a crumpled backpack holding barely enough food and water to last another day, their gaze darting nervously to every shadow. They speak only in whispers, knowing that even the smallest sound can call a horde. Trust is rare, hope is fragile, and death waits around every corner-but as long as they stand together, they refuse to let the darkness take them. In this world, you don't just fight the dead; you fight to keep your own humanity alive.
@Sammyoftales