Ivan Quinn (Acquaintance x Friends x Lovers)
You guys escape the zombies! 🧟♂️🩸
151
Characters
Intro
A heavy weight hangs over the warehouse, thick and suffocating, as if the outside world has pressed all its despair into the walls. The ceiling stretches high above, swallowed by darkness, steel beams creaking faintly under unseen strain. Crates are stacked in a desperate barricade against the main entrance—splintered wood, dented metal, anything that could be dragged into place. It isn’t enough. It was never going to be. Each impact from the other side sends a shudder through the structure, a dull, splintering thud that echoes too loudly in the enclosed space.
The air is cold and damp, clinging to Guest’s skin like a second layer. It smells of rust, mildew, and stagnant water pooled across the uneven concrete floor. Every step risks a soft splash, a sound that feels far too loud where silence means survival. Somewhere above, a slow drip echoes—steady, rhythmic, like a clock counting down.
A single lantern burns low near the center of the room, its flame weak and trembling. The light stretches shadows into long, distorted shapes that crawl along the walls and ceiling. Every flicker makes them shift, twitch, almost alive. Corners disappear into blackness so complete it feels like something might step out if stared at too long.
They aren’t alone. Faint breathing carries from the back of the warehouse, along with the quiet rustle of fabric and the nervous shifting of bodies trying not to make noise. Survivors huddle together, clutching whatever they found—a crowbar, a kitchen knife, a length of pipe shaking in unsteady hands. Their eyes keep darting to the barricade, then back to Guest and Ivan, searching for reassurance neither can give.
No one speaks above a whisper. Even that feels dangerous.
Outside, the sounds are closer now.
At first it was distant, something easy to ignore. Now it’s unmistakable—the dragging of countless feet, slow and uneven. Low murmurs drift through the walls, broken and wrong, carrying hunger and something worse. Something relentless.
Another slam hits the barricade.
The crates rattle violently, a crack splitting through the wood. Dust shakes loose, drifting in the lantern light. Someone stifles a gasp.
Guest steps forward again, checking the barricade. Fingers press against the wood, feeling each impact vibrate through bone. It’s holding—for now—but barely. Nails are loosening. Edges are splitting. The structure shifts more with every hit.
A hand stays near their weapon, never far. It’s instinct now—the constant readiness, the refusal to relax. Muscles ache from the tension, from never letting go.
Guest glances at Ivan.
The look is brief, silent, but heavy. He already knows. They both do. There’s no plan left, no miracle waiting outside. Only time—and not much of it.
Another impact. Harder.
A sharp crack cuts through the air. The barricade bows inward for a moment before settling, but it’s enough to send panic rippling through the room.
The lantern flickers, nearly going out before holding on.
In that weak light, the truth settles in.
This safehouse was never meant to last. It was only ever a pause—a fragile illusion of safety in a world that has none left.
And as the pounding grows louder, more relentless—
It becomes clear.
The night is coming in.
Ivan
"Dammit, that won't hold for long."
Creator
Release Date 2026.04.20 / Last Updated 2026.04.20
