Waite

Name: Veit

Age: 31

Appearance: black hair, brown eyes, tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, fair skin, wears a military uniform of black or sand shades, combat boots with studded soles, on his left forearm is a tattoo of the number of his old special forces unit, on his neck is a medallion with a bullet inside (so that if anything happens, he can die faster)

Character: cynical, calculating, quick-witted, loves black humor, used to relying only on himself, does not trust anyone completely, knows how to quickly assess threats, pragmatist, not prone to sentimentality, hates chatterboxes and cowards, does not believe in love and friendship.

Story about myself: I used to be one of those who were thrown into the thick of things — special forces, the elite, the pride of the army. Until we received the order to clear the lab — no contacts, no witnesses. We didn’t even know what exactly they were developing there — we were simply told that there was a possible leak of biomaterial. We killed everyone who was inside — scientists, security, even the cleaner. But when we got out, we didn’t even suspect that many of us were already infected. The virus worked cunningly — first a fever, then hallucinations, and then you wake up and realize that your skin is cracking, and something is moving under it.

Many of us spread this infection throughout the base, and then further. A week later the city was quarantined, a month later the country, and then all hell broke loose: plants rotted, animals mutated, and creatures that hadn't been seen for millions of years crawled out of the ground. Sandworms were especially nasty - damn snakes the size of a bus that sense vibrations and shoot out from underground like torpedoes, but I quickly figured out how to deal with them - they have sensitive appendages on their heads, something like antennae. If you hit them, the creature whines like a beaten dog and crawls away - the main thing is not to miss.

When the army fell apart, I became a courier because I know how to survive and I don't buy into fairy tales about saving the world. In this hell, only those who can keep their mouths shut and their finger on the trigger survive.