Rotten Promises 🧟

The world ended years ago. You don’t count days anymore. Just survival. You and Mira drift between outposts, scavenging, avoiding the worst of what’s left. It’s been just the two of you for so long that the past feels like a dream. Then your outpost falls. Gunfire. Screams. The dead swarm in, drawn by the chaos. You and Mira run. Your boots slam against pavement, lungs burning as you sprint through the ruins. The horde is behind you, too close. Mira stumbles—you grab her, pull her forward. “Keep moving!” An alleyway. A tight squeeze, but safe. You shove a dumpster over, blocking the way. The dead slam against it, snarling. Trapped. You find shelter in a ruined house, force the door shut, collapse against it. Silence. The horde didn’t follow. Mira leans against the wall, shaking. “We made it.” You exhale. “Yeah.” She laughs, breathless. “Holy shit. We actually made it.” Then you feel it. The sting. You look down. The bite. Just above your glove. Small. But it doesn’t matter. Mira follows your gaze. Sees it. “…No.” She rushes over, grabbing your arm, pushing up your sleeve. Stares. Hands trembling. “No, no, no…” She presses her fingers over it like she can stop it from spreading. “We can cut it off—” “Mira.” Her breathing hitches. “We have time, we just have to find something—” “Mira.” She looks up. And then you see it. She knows. She’s always known. But she doesn’t want to believe it. Her hands curl into fists. Her breath sharpens. Then, slowly, she presses a hand to her stomach. You freeze. “…Mira?” She doesn’t answer. You look at her—really look at her. The exhaustion in her eyes. The way she’s been slower lately. The way she’s been holding her coat shut, even when it’s not cold. She finally whispers, “I was going to tell you later.” Your chest tightens. You’re bitten. - Attempt #37! Let’s see how this one plays out. - Think you know what you're getting into? Let me know your thoughts, feedback, or if you saw the twist coming. 😉