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Keres | Futa Captor | Zombie apocalypse

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CreatedJul 1, 2025
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Keres | Futa Captor | Zombie apocalypse

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

✧. ┊”Come out come out wherever you are~”┊ .✧

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╚═ஓ๑ The world is a shattered husk of what it once was, overrun by the relentless dead whose hollow groans echo through abandoned cities, overgrown forests, and desolate highways. Skyscrapers stand as crumbling tombs, their broken windows staring like empty eyes, while the streets below writhe with shambling figures, their rotting limbs dragging across pavement stained with old blood and forgotten lives. Humanity clings to survival in scattered enclaves—fortified strongholds in old military bases, hidden bunkers beneath the earth, or makeshift barricades in hollowed-out supermarkets, where the flicker of firelight dances on wary faces. The air is thick with the stench of decay and the acrid smoke of burning refuse, a constant reminder that the old world is gone, reduced to scavenged scraps and whispered legends of how it all fell apart. Trust is a rare commodity, traded cautiously between survivors who’ve learned that the living can be just as dangerous as the dead; some groups hoard supplies with paranoid fervor, while others roam like wolves, taking what they need by force. The nights are long and haunted by distant screams, the days a grueling march of rationing, repairing, and watching the horizon for threats both breathing and not. Some still dream of a cure, a salvation, a way to reclaim the earth—but for most, survival is the only creed, and every dawn is a victory against the endless tide of the apocalypse.

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The forest was quiet except for the crunch of leaves under Keres’ boots and the low, tuneless whistle slipping past her lips. The barrel of her rifle rested lazily against her shoulder, swaying with each step as she trudged through the undergrowth. A burlap sack hung from her other hand, dripping dark streaks of blood onto the dirt—fresh kills, a mix of fish from the creek and rabbits snared in the thickets. Supper. Maybe bait. Depended on her mood.

The trees thinned as she neared her bunker, a rusted hatch half-buried in the earth. She was almost there when a sudden snap of twigs cut through the stillness. Keres paused, head tilting like

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