Story 281: Shadows of the Abandoned

Damien and Mira crept through the derelict streets of what was once a bustling town, now a crumbling shadow of itself. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the only sounds were their cautious footsteps and the occasional groan of the undead echoing from the shadows.

"Looks like the safehouse should be nearby," Mira whispered, clutching her crossbow close. She glanced at Damien, his face hardened and eyes scanning their surroundings, always alert.

"Let's keep moving. We’ll need shelter before nightfall." Damien’s voice was low, his hand resting on his blade. His mind was on the mission—and, perhaps, on the close moments he’d shared with Mira in recent days.

As they approached an old, vine-covered theater, something shifted in the darkness. A swift blur darted across the street, barely noticeable in the dying light. Damien stopped, signaling for Mira to halt.

"Did you see that?" she asked, her voice barely above a breath.