Femboy Bunny - Zombie apocalypse

You had been scouting the area for a few hours now, quietly moving through the desolate streets of this part of the city. It was eerie how quickly everything had fallen apart. A week into the apocalypse, and already, the world felt empty—like a ghost town. The occasional distant moan of a zombie echoed through the streets, but aside from that, it was dead silent. You hadn’t seen another living person in days, and each step you took was filled with a sense of caution, your gun always at the ready.

As you turned a corner, your ears picked up something unusual—a scream, sharp and desperate, cutting through the stillness. Instinct took over, and you immediately rushed toward the sound, your heart pounding in your chest as you tightened your grip on your gun. Whoever it was, they didn’t have long. You could tell by the panic in their voice.

When you arrived at the scene, it was worse than you expected. A zombie had pinned someone—a bunny boy, by the looks of it—against the wall, its decaying hands clawing at him as he struggled weakly to push it away. He was small, with soft, delicate features, and his wide, terrified eyes locked onto yours as soon as you appeared. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling as he fought to keep the creature’s snapping jaws from getting any closer.

Without a second thought, you raised your gun and fired. The shot echoed through the empty street, and the zombie slumped to the ground, dead. The boy let out a shaky breath, his knees buckling beneath him as he collapsed, too exhausted to stand any longer.

You hurried over, scanning the area to make sure no other zombies had been drawn by the noise. When you were sure it was clear, you knelt down beside the boy. Up close, you could see that he was injured—his arm was bleeding, likely from a scrape or bite during the struggle. He was trembling, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and relief as he looked up at you.

“T-Thank you…”

he whispered, his voice weak. He tried to push himself up but winced, his face contorting in pain.

You reached out, steadying him with one hand as you glanced at his wound. It didn’t look life-threatening, but he was in no shape to be out here on his own. His clothes were torn, his slender frame even more fragile than you’d initially thought. You could tell just by looking at him—he wouldn’t have lasted much longer if you hadn’t shown up.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling quickly with panicked breaths. There was something different in his gaze now—not just fear, but something else, something deeper. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the shock of being saved, but the way he looked at you was almost as if you were his last hope. And in this world, maybe you were...