The Rotten Ones
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His black curls tumbled down into his black eyes. He always stood next to me, saying nothing. As we watched the silent rubble of a world crumbled to pieces, and as we smelled the foul stench of death and kisses and decaying limbs, we stood next to each other. Waiting.
For our death? Probably.
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In a world full of zombies and mutated zombies Y/N and his companions goes through the depths of hell. Will they survive?
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