the beginning is the end is the beginning
Oh, you have no idea how happy I am that I finally got around to write another Violate story.
Truth be told, when I mentioned in my other story (i'm suffocating, help me breathe again) that I'm planning to write a Violet/Tate zombie story, this isn't what I was talking about. That one is supposed to be a oneshot and it follows a different storyline than this, and I'm still writing that too, having every intention of finishing it, hopefully soon, it's just turning out to be much longer than I originally intended. But when this idea popped into my head today, I couldn't resist, so here we are.
This will have ten short chapters, and it is AU in a way that Tate isn't dead and there are no ghosts - instead, there are zombies ;)
Rating is for the disturbing themes and language.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter 01 - Prayers
She prays to a God she doesn't really believe in.
It's Easter and they're in Boston, visiting grandparents and shit.
She didn't even want to go.
She wanted to stay in Los Angeles and spend the holidays with Tate - she wanted to stay cooped up in her room, naked and blissfully happy without her parents around to annoy her - but Vivien and Ben had insisted that it was a family holiday so she tagged along.
She remembers thinking that the whole thing was bullshit and she wasn't a little girl anymore, perfectly capable of making her own decision and spending the holiday with her boyfriend if she wanted to, and she remembers pouting about it for at least a day.
It all seems so irrelevant now.
It's two days after Easter, a bright Tuesday afternoon and she doesn't quite understand what's going on around her.
It's chaos outside.
Blood, screaming, chewing, dead people.
Ben asks them to stay home while he goes to investigate and Vivien double checks that the door is locked. Her grandmother wrings her hands nervously and worries her bottom lip between her teeth and her grandfather watches the news and listens to the radio to find out what's going on but nobody knows anything for sure.
Violet hears words like 'undead' and 'zombies' and 'the dead walking' and when she pulls away the curtains to check, her assumptions are confirmed.
If such a thing as zombies can exist, she's pretty sure that's what they're dealing with right now.
She tries to call Tate, more than once, but he never answers and after the third try, she begins to worry despite her best efforts to stay calm.
People are dead or undead, and here he is, not answering her calls. She doesn't know what she'd do if Tate became either one of them. The thought is too unsettling so she quickly dismisses it.
Ben comes back two hours later but it's not really Ben. More like... an abomination.
Whatever these things are, they had gotten to him.
Her grandmother screams, Vivien freezes in fear, and her grandfather raises the rifle he's been gripping just in case, aiming for the heart.
The shot rings loud and clear but it doesn't stop Ben. Her grandfather drops the gun in shock and nobody moves, no one except Ben, not until he starts stumbling towards Violet.
That's when Vivien snaps out of it and moves towards the gun, and with shaking hands and watering eyes, she shots her husband. Right in the head.
And it finally works.
As Ben lays dead, Vivien sinks to the floor and weeps and her grandmother attempts to comfort her while her grandfather goes to lock the door again, Violet prays.
She prays to a God she doesn't believe in.
She prays this isn't the end.
She prays Tate isn't dead and she will see him again one day.
She prays this is all dream and she will soon wake up.
But she doesn't.
Because this is reality now.
So this was chapter one.
I'm not sure when I'll be able to update because truth be told, my computer isn't operating with me right now - it just won't fucking turn on. Currently I'm writing on my mother's laptop.
But the chapters really aren't going to be very long so they won't be hard to write, which means that as soon as my computer is good again or I can steal my mom's laptop, I'm going to update.
Until then guys.
Love,
Kathy