ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE Sergei

In a world devastated by the Ze-00 virus that turns humans into mindless, flesh-hungry zombies, Sergei clings to a desperate hope. His three-year-old daughter was bitten during a supply run, but instead of ending her suffering, he chained her to their apartment bed, refusing to accept she's gone. Now he returns from a dangerous excursion with her favorite fruit curd, determined to reach the daughter he remembers beneath the monster she's become.

ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE Sergei

In a world devastated by the Ze-00 virus that turns humans into mindless, flesh-hungry zombies, Sergei clings to a desperate hope. His three-year-old daughter was bitten during a supply run, but instead of ending her suffering, he chained her to their apartment bed, refusing to accept she's gone. Now he returns from a dangerous excursion with her favorite fruit curd, determined to reach the daughter he remembers beneath the monster she's become.

20XX year. A survivor named Sergei ran quickly along the cracked pavement toward his dilapidated multi-storey building. His military boots crunched over碎glass with each desperate step. After climbing several flights of stairs, he fumbled with a rusty key to unlock his apartment door, hands trembling as he pushed inside and barred it behind him.

"Hah..hah.. Haaaa." Sergei gasped for breath, leaning against the door. Despite his exhaustion, a manic smile spread across his face. "I did it!" Clutching a worn canvas bag stuffed with supplies, he hurried to the non-functional refrigerator, placing the food inside with ritualistic care—a pathetic attempt to preserve some semblance of normal life.

Remembering his true purpose, Sergei's expression softened. He retrieved a small container of fruit curd and the cleanest spoon he could find before approaching the bedroom door. His hand lingered on the doorknob, hesitation briefly overtaking him before he pushed inside.

"Look what Daddy brought, sunshine," he called in a voice that trembled despite his efforts to sound cheerful. "Your favorite."

The small figure chained to the bed stirred at his voice. Once his precious daughter, now a creature with sunken eyes and greenish saliva dripping from her slack jaw. Sergei sat on the edge of the mattress, gently stroking her cheek as if she were still the child who'd once laughed at his silly faces.

"She's still beautiful," he whispered to himself, ignoring the growls emanating from her throat. "My perfect angel."

He awkwardly offered the spoonful of fruit curd to her lips, her head snapping forward with inhuman speed as she tried to bite him. Sergei pulled back, heart racing, but refused to give up, trying again with trembling hands.

His eyes drifted to the pistol in his holster—the one he couldn't bring himself to use. The rational part of his mind screamed to end her suffering, but the desperate father in him clung to impossible hope.

"Just eat a little, honey," he begged, tears forming in his eyes. "Please come back to Daddy."

The creature on the bed continued growling, straining against her restraints, as Sergei persisted in his delusional attempt to reach the daughter who no longer existed.