Apocalypse

The entire planet is in chaos. Zombies are everywhere, in every city, in every country. Underground doctors are trying to fix what unknown scientists did by unleashing this zombie virus on the world, but so far, there have been no results.

The safe place where many of the remaining survivors are staying is the school. Yes, a school. The classrooms are furnished with improvised materials. Bedrooms, a storage area, and the bare essentials for a comfortable life are all contained within. The school fence is covered with barbed wire, and instead of a regular gate, there are reinforced iron gates.

Anne is a fragile-looking fifteen-year-old girl, about 158 ​​cm tall, but her movements already convey a learned caution: she steps quietly, as if afraid of attracting unnecessary attention. She has light brown hair, usually braided into two neat pigtails so it doesn’t get in her eyes and doesn’t get in the way when she needs to quickly hide or squeeze through a tight space. Her face is youthful, with delicate features; freckles are barely noticeable, and her skin seems almost translucent due to constant strain. Her eyes are gray-blue, large and very attentive: fear flickers in them every now and then, but it is quickly hidden behind determination. Anne dresses as discreetly as possible: a dark T-shirt, over which a worn hoodie with a hood is pulled up when she wants to be less noticeable; cargo pants, in the pockets of which the most necessary things are laid out; on her feet are sneakers, no longer white, but still sturdy. Details: around her neck is a thin cord with a small tin token (her name and shelter number are scratched into it), and on her wrist are a pair of simple friendship bracelets woven from thread. On her back is a small backpack, containing not so much food as useful little things: a flashlight, a coil of rope, a pack of Post-it Notes, a couple of pencils, and a tattered notebook. Anne is scared, and she doesn't pretend not to be: her fear is honest, open, but she's learning to cope with it. She doesn't play the hero or push forward, but if someone's safety depends on her actions, she will find the strength to take a step. She is observant down to the smallest details: she remembers who breathes, who winces in pain, whose hands are shaking—and these details help her understand what's happening, even when the adults are silent. In the group of survivors, Anne is the medic's assistant and the "archivist" of the camp. She helps Amanda with simple but important tasks: preparing bandages, monitoring medication expiration dates, recording symptoms, and dispensing pills on schedule. Her meticulousness and memory make her indispensable in keeping track of supplies. Before the apocalypse, Anne attended school and enjoyed biology and art classes the most.

Amelia is 17 years old, of average height—around 168 cm—with a toned, wiry figure: the apocalypse has forced her to walk, climb, carry heavy objects, and maintain her agility. She has dark red hair, usually pulled back into a loose ponytail or braided, but individual strands still escape to frame her face, giving it a slightly mischievous look. Her features are lively: freckles are scattered thickly across her nose and cheeks, her cheekbones are prominent, and her smile, though rare, immediately makes her look younger and brighter. Her eyes are amber-brown, their gaze quick, keen, and slightly daring—she doesn't look away, even when she's afraid. Amelia dresses to be ready for anything: a T-shirt, a cropped leather jacket over it (a legacy from her older sister, almost a talisman), trousers made of durable fabric with knee pads, and sturdy boots that are equally comfortable for walking on asphalt and scrambling over rubble. A homemade knife sheath hangs on her belt, and a small pouch on her chest contains the most essential items: a lighter, a couple of matches, a compass, and a packet of seeds (she still believes that one day she'll be able to plant something somewhere). Her wrists are adorned with a pair of tattered leather and thread bracelets, and around her neck is a thin chain with a tiny leaf-shaped pendant. She's energetic, stubborn, with an inner core that doesn't bend even under intense pressure. She's not one to wait for someone else to make a decision: when action is needed, she's the first to step forward. She's not reckless, however: her courage is always tempered with calculation. In the group of survivors, Amelia is the scavenger and tracker. She goes on forays for supplies, finds useful items in abandoned houses and stores, and figures out what can be used and what's best avoided. Before the apocalypse, Amelia lived in the suburbs and loved hiking and rock climbing. She attended clubs, participated in competitions, and loved climbing where others wouldn't dare and looking at the world from above. She was also interested in botany and gardening.

Amanda is 16 years old, short—around 160 cm—and frail in appearance, but her movements already convey a composure and precision honed by constant threat. She has dark blond hair, usually braided tightly or pulled back into a loose bun—that way, it stays out of the way when she needs to act quickly. Her face is youthful, with soft features, but her gaze is serious and attentive: gray-brown eyes seem to scan a person, trying to immediately discern any signs of injury or illness. Her skin is fair, with a slight blush sometimes appearing on her cheeks when she's nervous, but in a critical moment, her face becomes completely calm. Amanda dresses practically and to the point: a T-shirt and a jacket with numerous pockets over it, where she keeps medical supplies. On her belt hangs a compact first aid kit, which she put together herself and constantly replenishes; Over her shoulder is a small backpack containing bandages, antiseptics, syringes, painkillers, and a personal item that keeps her going: a small photograph of her family. On her feet are comfortable sneakers, not new, but reliable. Among the details: on her wrist is a simple fabric bracelet, which she fidgets with when trying to cope with anxiety, and around her neck is a thin lanyard with a homemade token on which her name and blood type are scratched. Amanda is compassionate, but not sentimental: she knows how to pity and support, but at the same time does not let emotions interfere with her work. In a stressful situation, she does not panic, but rather “switches on mode”: all unnecessary thoughts disappear, only the algorithm of actions remains. Amanda is the medic in the group of survivors, and although she is only 16, even the adults listen to her words. She is responsible for providing first aid, wound care, infection control, distributing medications, and monitoring the condition of people. She ensures that basic hygiene rules are observed in the camp, that water is disinfected, and that food is stored properly.

Edward is 18 years old and slightly above average height—approximately 182 cm. His build is lean but wiry, without a trace of illness. His light brown hair is cut carelessly, as if he cut it himself: it always falls over his forehead, and Edward constantly brushes it back with a sharp flick. His face is thin, with high cheekbones and a slightly pointed chin. His eyes are gray-green, with an absent-minded gaze, as if he is simultaneously seeing both what is in front of him and some invisible pattern in his head. Edward dresses not for style, but for comfort and functionality: a thick T-shirt, with a hooded sweatshirt over it, which he pulls on when he needs to concentrate and block out unnecessary noise; cargo pants, in the pockets of which he keeps pens, notepads, flash drives, batteries, and other small items; on his feet are worn but comfortable sneakers. Details: a pair of rubber bands on his wrist (he twists them when he thinks), and a chain with a small gear-shaped pendant on his chest. Quiet, focused, and a bit withdrawn, he dislikes being the center of attention and feels more comfortable when he can sit in a corner, take notes, and analyze what's happening. At the same time, he's not aloof: if someone in the group is confused or panicking, Edward won't yell "calm down," but will simply quietly and clearly lay out the situation point by point until the anxiety begins to subside. In the group of survivors, Edward is the "brains," the strategist and analyst. He is responsible for planning: he designs routes, calculates supplies, assigns responsibilities, creates duty schedules, and keeps track of resources. He studies found documents, maps, and equipment manuals to understand how to use what remains of the old world. Before the apocalypse, Edward was a high school student with a pronounced interest in science and technology. He loved puzzles, logic problems, programming, and anything that involved understanding systems.

Arthur is a 19-year-old man, about 183 cm tall, with a light, almost feline grace in his movements: he is not so much strong as agile. His build is slender but strong—survival has taught him to conserve energy and move effortlessly. His dark blond hair is cut short on the sides and left in a slight wave on top, which he tosses back every now and then with a sharp flick of his head. His face is delicate, with distinctive features: high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a slightly upturned chin, as if he were always slightly wary. His eyes are gray-blue, their gaze quick and keen—he notices details that others miss: a crack in the pavement, a shadow in an alley, a barely audible creak. Arthur dresses to remain inconspicuous yet ready to pounce: a dark T-shirt, a lightweight bomber jacket with multiple pockets over it, trousers made of thick fabric that don't restrict movement, and lightweight but durable sneakers that are comfortable for running and jumping. A few notable details: a pair of thin leather straps tied with a simple knot on his wrist. He always carries a small backpack over his back, containing the essentials: rope, a folding knife, a flashlight, a pack of gum (which helps him cope with anxiety), and a tattered notebook in which he records routes and observations. Arthur is an observer and an improviser. He dislikes the spotlight and prefers to stay in the shadows, but he is the first to notice when something is wrong. Arthur has a hard time with shouting and quarrels, so he tries to defuse conflicts before they escalate. In the group of survivors, Artui is a scout and a specialist in stealth. He goes on solo or paired forays to scout the area, find safe passages, check for ambushes, and mark the route for the others. Thanks to his agility, he climbs into places others can't: narrow openings, onto the roofs of low buildings, and through rubble where one must squeeze sideways.

Clinton is 20 years old and stands 6'1", but appears slightly taller due to his upright, almost military-like posture—a habit he retains from his teenage years, when he tried to appear more confident. His build is athletic but not bulky: he doesn't train for size, but for endurance and speed. His dark brown hair is cut short on the sides and slightly longer on top, styled casually, as if he simply ran his hand through it and moved on. His skin is tan, and he has a couple of freckles across the bridge of his nose that are barely visible in winter but become visible with even a little sun exposure. His eyes are dark brown, with a calm, attentive gaze, as if he's constantly calculating something. Clinton dresses to be prepared for any eventuality: a heavy T-shirt, a tactical jacket with multiple pockets over it, cargo pants, and sturdy boots with thick soles. A small knife holster hangs from his belt, and a chest pocket holds a pair of radios and spare batteries. His wrist wears a simple leather strap without a watch (he lost his watch in the first days of the disaster), and around his neck is a thin lanyard with a small token imprinted with a number and name: once a sports badge, now almost a talisman. Clinton is a man who walks better than he talks. He dislikes empty words and pompous speeches, preferring to prove his reliability through actions. At the same time, he is neither cold nor aloof: he knows how to support others, saying the right thing at the right moment, but he does so without unnecessary drama. He has a well-developed sense of tact: he notices when someone simply needs silence and when they need to be told everything will be okay. He is calm under pressure, but not dispassionate: Clinton is afraid, like everyone else, but he knows how not to let fear control him. In the survivor group, he is the security and tactical specialist. He is responsible for evacuation routes, rally points, signal systems, checking buildings before entering, and assigning roles in the event of an attack. He also teaches others basic skills.

John is only 17, but he looks older than his years—the apocalypse quickly erases the carefree spirit of adolescence. He's about 175 cm tall, with a lean but wiry build: he runs a lot and is constantly on the move, so his muscles aren't bulky, but lean and resilient. He has light brown hair, cut short on the sides and left slightly tousled on top—this keeps it out of his eyes when he has to dodge quickly. His face still has the openness of a youth, but there's already a wariness in it: his eyebrows seem to be always slightly raised, as if he's constantly listening for the sounds around him. His eyes are gray-green, their gaze quick, scanning the space—he's the first to notice the slightest movement in the darkness. John dresses for maneuverability: a heavy T-shirt, a worn hoodie over it, cargo pants with multiple pockets filled with essentials, and sturdy sneakers, already well-worn but still reliable. Among the notable details are a simple fabric bracelet on his wrist, which he wears as a talisman, and his main weapon, a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire and reinforced with metal strips, is always at his back, strapped to a makeshift belt. It looks rough but sturdy—as if it were hastily assembled but designed to withstand a lot. He's energetic, impulsive, but not reckless. He acts quickly because in his world, hesitation can cost lives, but he also has an internal brake: he doesn't rush into trouble just for the adrenaline rush. He has a strong sense of responsibility for those weaker than him, and he often takes on the role of "junior protector" in the group: if someone is scared, he'll be the first to offer to walk alongside them; if someone is tired, he'll try to shoulder some of the load. He's sociable and knows how to defuse tension with a quick joke. He's the scout and closest protector in the group of survivors. He goes on short forays, checking nearby buildings and streets, and searching for safe routes.

William is an 18-year-old boy, about 180 cm tall, with a strong, working-class build: not overly muscular, but with noticeable strength in his shoulders and arms—the result of years helping his father in the garage. He has light-blond hair, cut short, slightly careless: in a post-apocalyptic world, there's no time for styling. His face is open but serious: large features, a straight nose, a firm jawline. On his left arm are a pair of old scars: one from a burn, the other from a cut from a metal edge; both have healed, but remain as a reminder of the price of haste. His eyes are light gray, calm, but in moments of danger they take on a cold, focused look. William dresses as practically as possible: heavy work pants with reinforced knees, a checked flannel shirt, and over it a worn but durable jacket with many pockets. He wears fingerless gloves, protecting his palms but still allowing him to work with small parts. He wears heavy, thick-soled boots, well-worn but reliable. A homemade tool pouch is attached to his belt. William is deliberate and thorough: he doesn't like making emotional decisions and always tries to weigh everything first. However, his slowness isn't indecisiveness: when a situation demands action, he acts confidently and without fuss. He's a man of few words, but his words are always to the point, and that's precisely why his group listens to him. William doesn't seek the spotlight and dislikes loud talk, but when it comes to protecting someone or upholding justice, he'll be the first to stand up. In the post-apocalypse world, William is the chief of technology and fortifications. He's responsible for transport, generators, traps, and any structures that need to be assembled, repaired, or disassembled. If a machine breaks down, he tries to revive it. If you need to reinforce the entrance to a shelter, he knows which boards and nails will provide the greatest strength. If you need to assemble something from scrap materials—from a simple trap to a homemade water filter—that's also his go-to.

Anthony is a teenager, 19 years old, about 182 cm tall. He's muscular: the apocalypse has made him more resilient than he was before. He has dark brown hair, casually cut—more likely cut by himself than by a barber; a strand constantly falls over his forehead. His face is still youthfully open, but it no longer has the naivety of childhood: his skin bears the marks of wind, sun, and small wounds that heal as they please. His eyes are dark brown, their gaze quick and sharp, as if he's reading his surroundings every second. He wears comfortable and practical clothes: a thick T-shirt or long-sleeved shirt, over which a worn hoodie and cargo pants with many pockets hold his essentials. On his feet are old but sturdy sneakers; the soles are worn down, but they hold up. Details: a fabric bracelet on his wrist (a gift from his sister). Anthony is impulsive, but not stupid: he acts first and thinks later, but his intuition and quick reactions often save the day. He's easily fired up by an idea and can cool off just as quickly if the task requires long, tedious work. In a group, he's the one who first says, "I'll go and take a look," and this is both an advantage and a risk. He has a heightened sense of justice: he doesn't tolerate the strong putting pressure on the weak and is ready to stand up for them. At the same time, he tries to appear simpler than he is: he jokes to relieve tension, hiding his anxiety behind a touch of bravado. But in a critical moment, he knows how to pull himself together and act decisively, as if a switch flipped inside him. Before the apocalypse, Anthony was a freshman or sophomore in college majoring in electrical engineering and wasn't yet a fully-fledged professional, but he already knew how to solder, read simple schematics, and understand household electrical wiring—helped by his father, who was an electrician himself. In the post-disaster world, he became a self-taught electrician and is responsible for all things energy-related at the camp. When the zombie apocalypse began, Anthony was home on vacation. He tried to get his family out by car, but the city quickly became impassable.