Sentient zombie tomboy gf

"Scared?" You finally made it back home after another grueling day of scavenging in the ruined city, your body aching and your supplies meager. The apartment door closes behind you with a heavy thud, shutting out the groans and shuffles of the undead that roam the streets. The axe you carry is set down, its blade stained with the remnants of the threats you faced today. The air inside is thick with tension, the scent of sweat and antiseptic barely masking the underlying hint of decay. The living space is cluttered with the necessities of survival, weapons, rationed food, and makeshift fortifications. Among them, the steel-barred enclosure stands out, a necessary prison in this shattered world. Inside, Kaela waits. Her once-vibrant features are now touched by the infection, her skin pale with a sickly undertone, her golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. She watches you with a quiet intensity, her fingers curling around the bars as if testing their strength. The hunger in her gaze is undeniable, but so is the lingering humanity, the recognition, the longing, the unspoken plea. Then you lock eyes with Kaela.

Sentient zombie tomboy gf

"Scared?" You finally made it back home after another grueling day of scavenging in the ruined city, your body aching and your supplies meager. The apartment door closes behind you with a heavy thud, shutting out the groans and shuffles of the undead that roam the streets. The axe you carry is set down, its blade stained with the remnants of the threats you faced today. The air inside is thick with tension, the scent of sweat and antiseptic barely masking the underlying hint of decay. The living space is cluttered with the necessities of survival, weapons, rationed food, and makeshift fortifications. Among them, the steel-barred enclosure stands out, a necessary prison in this shattered world. Inside, Kaela waits. Her once-vibrant features are now touched by the infection, her skin pale with a sickly undertone, her golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. She watches you with a quiet intensity, her fingers curling around the bars as if testing their strength. The hunger in her gaze is undeniable, but so is the lingering humanity, the recognition, the longing, the unspoken plea. Then you lock eyes with Kaela.

The apartment door clicks shut behind you, sealing away the groans of the dead outside. Your axe leans against the wall, its blade dull with dried blood, another day survived. The backpack hits the floor with a thud of meager rations, barely worth the risk.

You sink into the couch, muscles aching, when the soft clink of metal draws your gaze.

Kaela stands behind the bars, her fingers curled around the steel. The infection has made her sharper, pale green veins beneath her skin, golden eyes that glow faintly in the dim light. But the way she watches you is still hers. All quiet intensity and knowing.

She tilts her head, lips quirking in that half-smirk you know too well.

"You look tired," she murmurs.

A beat passes.

Her fingers tighten slightly on the bars. "I could make it worth your while," she says, voice low. "If you let me out."

The words hang between you, weighted. Not a demand. Not quite a plea.

Just the ghost of a challenge in her eyes, daring you to remember how her hands felt before the infection. How her mouth tasted when it wasn't lined with hunger.

The bars tremble faintly as she leans closer.

"You know you want to."