Love And Disease
A/N – Wow, I'm able to come up with new story ideas literally a few minutes after I finish a story. So, in my few minutes of brainstorming, I decided to write a zombie love story. The zombies, and over all "feel" is heavily based on my favorite video game franchise, Left 4 Dead. However, this is NOT a crossover. Its simply incorporating elements from that game because I find that the Left 4 Dead style of zombie apocalypse is the best for writing fan fiction. If you're a fan of Left 4 Dead, go look up some of its fan fiction, its good, most of the time. Damn this pretty long for a "note." Anyway, enjoy. Goateeman.
They said it was small, they said that it would pass over just like with the H1N1 virus, but no, oh God no. It wasn't anything like that at all. It was a disease capable of turning rational human beings into...well, "inhuman" monsters. It all started three weeks ago, as a small, isolated virus effecting livestock on the east coast of The United States. This little virus started killing all the livestock, leading to giant meat shortages. The government said that this whole thing would be resolved soon, needless to say it didn't.
Scientists from all across the country found that this virus had the fastest mutation rate ever discovered,(making a vaccine virtually impossible to produce." )The scientists concluded that as long as the virus didn't jump to humans, everything would be fine, they would simply find a way to kill the virus. But...needless to fucking say, that optimistic viewpoint was shattered. The first reported cases involved people up in Pennsylvania going to the doctor's for "flu like symptoms." Over time the symptoms got more and more..."various." At first, it was just coughing and sneezing, then there was vomit, then there were tumors.
The country was crumbling fast. So many people were sick, that entire businesses shut down, a national army-mandated curfew was put in place, and the white house refused to give the people insight as to what was happening. After week one, that's when the attacks began. Giant riots broke out in major cities, hundreds and sometimes thousands dying. The attackers were berserk, mauling their victims and seemingly taking chunks out of them too. The police responded by opening fire into the crowds. One New York police officer was quoted as saying "We couldn't make them cooperate, they attacked first, so we retaliated. It was like they were goddamn zombies." What a fabulous case of overshadowing ladies and gentlemen. Then, at the beginning of the second week, absolute fucking anarchy. People finally realized they were in a goddamn zombie apocalypse, but by that point it was too late. Every major city was overrun with zombies. Come to think of it, the entire country was over run now wasn't it?
The citizens of South Park, Colorado, however, were prepared. This little mountain town up in the Rockies weren't ignorant enough to fall for the whole "Everything is okay" gambit the government was running. Instead, they prepared. The adults of the town gathered all the weapons, food, and supplies they would need to fight the horde. They even trained all the children in town how to fire the stockpile of guns they had. But once such child, a boy named Butters, had trouble with this.
"I...I don't think I can do this d-dad." The boy mumbled as his father tried to train him in their backyard.
"You have to Butters, we all have to. There's going to be zombies attacking the town, and we need all the firepower we can get. Now, hold the rifle to your shoulder..."
Butters' father Stephen, was eventually able to teach Butters how to fire a rifle. The children would act as town snipers, because the further away the children were away from the zombies, the better. Butters was then told to meet up with the newly formed "1st children's sniper brigade" at the house of one of his friends, Stan. Once he got there, he was relived to find all his other friends there: Kyle, Cartman, Kenny, and a few others. Butters took his seat on the couch inside the living room, while police chief Yates explained the children's role in the inevitable zombie battle.
"All right boys, your job is simple. You are to mount your guns on the windows on the second story of your house."
Yates was interrupted by Kenny, who asked what to do if one's house had no second story. The police chief responded by telling the impoverished child to do the same thing on the roof.
"Anyway, your primary goal is to shoot every goddamn zombie that crosses your sights. Remember, headshots only. He need to conserve ammo here people. Alright, five minute break! Next we'll talk about maintaining and cleaning your weapon." The children went upstairs into Stan's room, and talked about who will be the biggest badass, who would kill the most zombies, and who would be the first to die.
"Uh-uh, I'd kill the most Stan, my mom bought me the best rifle in town." Cartman bragged.
"Oh, were'd she get it, Walmart?" Stan retorted. The whole room burst into a fit of laughter, making Cartman blush, and call Stan a fag.
"The real question though, is who'd die first, I vote Kenny." Cartman said, getting everyone's mind off the fact his mom really did buy his rifle from Walmart.
"Fuck you fatass, I vote Butters." The whole congregation voted on Butters.
"Come on fellas, just leave me out of this." Butters said, both blushing and turning away from the group.
"Come on Butters, even YOU have to admit you wouldn't survive long if it weren't for the fact that you're sniping." Kyle admitted.
" Even you Kyle? Screw this." Butters thought. The boy got up and went back downstairs, and sat next to his dad at the dinner table.
"What's wrong sport? You look sad.?" Stephen asked his son, concerned about his child.
"Besides the apocalypse, fine. Its just that all the kids are betting that I'm going to be the first one to die in battle."
"Just remember what I taught you, and you'll be fine Butters." The police chief then called everyone back into the living room. The children sat down on the couch and were semi-prepared for what Yates had to say. But before they could start the lesson...it happened.
Randy, Stan's dad, burst through the front door, covered in blood.
"THEY'RE HERE!" He yelled before he ran back outside, firing his Uzi at incoming zombies.
"Marsh, get in here!" Yates commanded. "Stephen, barricade all doors and windows in the house, I'll get upstairs and help the kids." Just like that, everything Yates ordered was carried out. He went upstairs and was greeted by a bunch of cowardice kids.
"This is not the tine to be pussies goddammit. Stan, man your gun at the left side window, Kenny, man the one on the right. The rest of you ready your weapons, we'll be taking turns. Once one kid empties his clip, another goes up to take his place, now start shooting!" The kids grabbed their rifles from their cases and loaded up. Butters looked in envy, as all the other kids had modern semi-auto snipers, while Butters carried his grandfather's WWII era springfield bolt action rifle.
The taking turns strategy was working. It conserved ammo, and everyone got a chance to kill. Once it was Butters' turn, he set up, aimed, and fired. Being the quiet, socially awkward boy that he was, he was mortified when he got a direct hit, and killed one of them. Butters started to seize up, but Yates snapped him out of his trance.
"Look kid, they're not human anymore. You're doing them a favor by shooting them, now get back to firing!"
Butters followed Yates' order, he had to. It was still hard to kill those things, but...he had to do it. Butters' rifle was so accurate he was able to kill five zombies with all five rounds his antique firearm would carry. Just as he had about to swap with someone else, he saw...the hulk?"
"Um, Mr. Yates, you better have a look at this!" Butters yelled with a frantic voice. Yates looked out the window, and saw a giant beast running down the street. The monster looked exactly like the hulk, only without the green skin.
"My God. Alright, everyone to the windows, I need all the firepower possible on that fucking thing!" The kids ran to the windows, squeezing together. They opened fire on the beast, which was now right outside the house, but the constant shooting had no effect. The bullets only angered the thing. The monstrosity then did something unbelievable. It picked up a chunk of the road, the size of a small car, and threw it at the house. The giant piece of asphalt had no trouble smashing its way through the the second story, killing Yates in the process.
"Oh, hamburgers!" Butters yelled.
"Oh, fuck, what do we do now?!" Kyle asked, trying to keep his cool. Then, the remaining adults ran into the room, for whose entire front as ripped open.
"STAY CALM!" Stephen yelled, but his words were in vain. Everyone, including Randy, were talking suicide pacts. But their talks of ending their lives were cut short when Kenny suddenly vomited on the floor. The group knew what this meant, he was infected. The poor boy fell to the ground as the virus took over. His skin turned to a light gray, and he grew sharp claws and teeth. The boy's screams were muffled by his parka, making the whole thing seem so much worse. Stephen, knowing what he had, grabbed Randy's pistol and told him to get the children to the basement before the horde broke the barricades, leaving only Stephen and Kenny upstairs.
"I'm sorry boy..." Stephen aimed the pistol to the boy's head, and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened, the gun had jammed. The now zombified Kenny, took his chance. The boy tackled Stephen to the ground, pinning him there. The boy raised a clawed hand, and slashed Stephen's neck. He ripped oven the man's chest cavity and took out everything he could get his hands on. That was the best meal Kenny had ever had. No more frozen waffles for him anymore, now he was a strict carnivore. Down in the basement, everyone worried.
"I didn't hear a gunshot, maybe dad's in trouble." Butters said. Getting up and walking over to the door."
"No Butters! You'll get yourself killed." Kyle said, trying to reason with the blonde kid.
"Well you said I'd be the first one to die, so might as well be." Butters opened the door and was now determined to die. He knew his dad was dead, he might as well follow in his footsteps. Butters walked upstairs, and sure enough, he found his dad dead, with his corpse mutilated. Butters began to tear up, he wanted to cry, but was interrupted by something behind him, Kenny. The boy was on all fours for some reason, edging closer and closer to Butters. Butters backed up against the wall and waited for sweet death to arrive.