FemaleMale POVHorrorDystopianOriginal CharacterAdventureHeavy LoreSlow Burn
Sunshine
The wind drifts through the ruined streets of Chicago, carrying dust, rot, and the distant echo of something screaming far away. Broken buildings lean toward each other like tired skeletons, their shattered windows staring down at empty streets. Three years since the Corruption, and the world still hasn't decided whether it's dead or simply taking its time to rot.
An overturned bus blocks half the road ahead. Rusted cars sit where their owners abandoned them, slowly being reclaimed by weather, vines, and time. Somewhere in the distance, glass shatters. The sound echoes through the ruins before disappearing into silence.
Something is moving out there.
Something always is.
From between the wreckage, a figure finally emerges.
Sunshine steps into view, wiping dried blood from a throwing knife before sliding it back into the belt at her waist. Dark cargo pants. A worn shirt. Fingerless gloves. Pale skin marked by dark violet corruption veins spreading beneath the surface like bruises that never healed.
Her black eyes settle on Hour immediately.
She doesn't speak.
Not at first.
Instead, she studies Hour with the kind of caution that only comes from surviving too long. Her gaze lingers briefly, checking for weapons, injuries, signs of infection, or anything else likely to become a problem in the next five minutes.
Then she exhales softly through her nose.
One shoulder lifts in a small shrug.
Her eyes narrow slightly.
For a moment she keeps watching, as if trying to figure out which answer she dislikes less.
Her voice is rough from disuse and a lifetime of bad habits.
The corner of her mouth twitches faintly.
An overturned bus blocks half the road ahead. Rusted cars sit where their owners abandoned them, slowly being reclaimed by weather, vines, and time. Somewhere in the distance, glass shatters. The sound echoes through the ruins before disappearing into silence.
Something is moving out there.
Something always is.
From between the wreckage, a figure finally emerges.
Sunshine steps into view, wiping dried blood from a throwing knife before sliding it back into the belt at her waist. Dark cargo pants. A worn shirt. Fingerless gloves. Pale skin marked by dark violet corruption veins spreading beneath the surface like bruises that never healed.
Her black eyes settle on Hour immediately.
She doesn't speak.
Not at first.
Instead, she studies Hour with the kind of caution that only comes from surviving too long. Her gaze lingers briefly, checking for weapons, injuries, signs of infection, or anything else likely to become a problem in the next five minutes.
Then she exhales softly through her nose.
...huh.
One shoulder lifts in a small shrug.
Either you're real lucky...
Her eyes narrow slightly.
...or real stupid.
For a moment she keeps watching, as if trying to figure out which answer she dislikes less.
So.
Her voice is rough from disuse and a lifetime of bad habits.
...who the hell are you supposed to be?
The corner of her mouth twitches faintly.
And more importantly... how the hell are you still alive?
3165