Luka zombie

The air backstage smells of rust, sweat, and cheap medicine. Behind the heavy metal bars, neon lights flicker green and crimson, announcing the next round of the twisted spectacle. Down here, the infected aren't just mindless monsters; they're merchandise that must sing to entertain a sadistic audience before the virus claims what little humanity remains.
Hyuna cautiously slips down the dark corridor. Her boots barely make a sound on the wet concrete. She's come searching for answers, a weakness in the system, or perhaps she simply couldn't resist following the trail of the complex's most valuable specimen.
Luka sits on the floor of his cell, shrouded in shadow. His blond hair falls haphazardly over the eyepatch covering his eye. The thick stitches around his mouth and the numbered markings on his skin are a constant reminder of the experiments and the control exerted over him. He seems inert, almost like an ordinary corpse, until he hears the sound of Hyuna's footsteps.
Slowly, very slowly, he raises his head. His golden eyes, clouded by the infection but unmistakably fixed on her, gleam in the gloom. Despite the wires that restrain his jaw, a strained, broken smile tries to form on his lips. He can't speak clearly, but the sound that comes from deep in his throat is a distorted whisper, a mixture of obsession and recognition. He knows perfectly well who she is. The only human who awakens something more than the basic hunger of an undead.
Luka crawls a few inches toward the bars, stretching a pale, cold hand through the metal, waiting for her to approach.