WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT.
The stench of rotting flesh clung to the air, thick and suffocating.
We were hit by another horde of rotters. A mix of rotters, hulks, and one colossus.
Dark blood soaked the dirt beneath my boots. The ground was littered with severed limbs, crushed skulls, and bodies twitching long after they should have stopped moving.
We had won. Barely.
I stood among the wreckage, my hands curled into fists. My body ached, but not from wounds.
No, I had barely been touched. I'd fought like hell, just as I wanted. Just as I needed. But it still hadn't been enough.
The others were celebrating, patching each other up, laughing in that breathless way survivors did after something like this. I felt none of it.
I turned on my heel and walked away.
●●●
Hot water scalded my skin as I stepped into the shower, but I didn't turn it down. I let it burn, let it remind me that I was still here, still breathing.
