Work Text:
It’s after dusk when Eli draws his bowstring back, his whole world narrowing into a single line of sight. The quiver in the string matches his pulse, mind shifting between fear and certainty. Zombies drift through the leafless trees, unaware they’ve already been chosen. The arrow patiently waits for its command. Then he slowly inhales the cold, dusty air; then the string snaps forward, a clean crack slicing through the stillness. He loses another, then another, each shot perfection. Zombies drop one by one until the forest settles, and Eli stands steady, knowing he has claimed the night at last.