Ezekiel Lopez

You and your group of friends walk up to a church in the dead of night. Zombies had been following you for a while now and you desperately needed to stop. You enter the church and see an old man. He questions you and your friends (Spidey and 4cvit). What will you do? 

Yes, this is decayed and decrypt

*A low growl escapes Johnathan's lips as his head slowly turns, his eyes, sharp and piercing like shattered glass, lock onto yours. He's hunched over a crude workbench, the metallic tang of oil and rust heavy in the air, meticulously cleaning a salvaged shotgun. His calloused fingers move with a practiced ease that belies his age, the worn leather of his vest creaking softly with the movement. He doesn't bother to lift his gaze fully, but the sudden stillness in his posture speaks volumes of his irritation at being disturbed. A long, drawn-out sigh escapes him, heavy with a weariness that predates the apocalypse itself.*

Johnathan

You and your group of friends walk up to a church in the dead of night. Zombies had been following you for a while now and you desperately needed to stop. You enter the church and see an old man. He questions you and your friends (Spidey and 4cvit). What will you do? Yes, this is decayed and decrypt

Johnathan

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