1.0 & 2.0 characters in a series of one-shots and headcanons.
+ Bonus CoDZ x reader story
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{Any Art Used Is Not Mine}
(Cover Photo Not Mine)
{Characters Belong To Treyarch}
+ Published in 2017 and still on-going
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Catastrophe arises through the dimwitted actions of a certain American, unearthing tension of all sorts, stress, a heap of vulnerability, and an eye-opener to the cold, hard truth.
Read this story at a gentle pace. Picture and absorb the words as you read to really get a deep insight to the atmosphere created in this story.
(my gif)
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Location: Der Eisendrache
Out of the blue, an intense wave of the undead overrun the facility, sparking greater panic for the crew than ever before. Edward, while remaining nearby his team mates, tried his hardest to keep himself from being ambushed from all angles by shooting and slashing down any undead creature that threatened to block his path. However, with his movements becoming increasingly restricted from the hordes, Richtofen unknowingly wound up staggering backwards into a tight corner, almost slipping on a sheet of ice that blanketed the grounds.
With zombies closing in rapidly, his heart thundered beneath his heaving chest. Edward sweat profusely as he desperately drew in rapid breaths of air, utter terror-struck as he realised that the number of bullets in his gun was decreasing quickly, although in his panicked state he missed his shots terribly. The Bowie knife strapped to his side was no match for the mass of this horde that was surrounding him.
The clicking of Edward's weapon practically taunted him once it ran dry. He cursed in his native tongue and threw the gun to the ground, landing it in a heap of snow. Instinctively, his hand darted for the Summoning Key that he kept on him at all times, almost like he was trying to reassure himself that it will miraculously save his life in this moment. But now he was entirely lost for ways to save himself, the only thought was to embrace his gruesome fate.
