A/N: Yeah, not such an original title for a story, but it's gettin late, and my brain is fried. Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom hearts.
Chapter One: Alone and Armed
Sighing, Roxas slumped against the outer walls of the Empire State Building, sliding exhausted to the ground.
Littering the ground before him, bleeding into the untrimmed grass and crystal blue fountains, were scores of rotting corpses riddled with holes.
Fucking zombies.
Roxas pulled back the release on the rifle he held, letting empty bullet casings fly loose around him. How long had he been running from these rotten sons of bitches? Two years? Three? It had been too long since he last looked at a calendar.
The sun was high in the sky, torching the gross remains of the zombies until the stench rolled off them in waves. Roxas grimaced, wrinkling his nose in distaste and got back up onto his legs before gasping. Pain wrought through him, making him grab hold of the glass exterior of the building in a daze. Sweaty blonde hair clung to the front of his face, obscuring his vision so that he blinked the hair out of his oceanic blue eyes.
Shit. His legs were fried. Running meant you lived to see another day, unless you happened to try running from a horde. He had been traveling the daylight hours, being quiet as he could ever be. With empty streets, rules were thrown out the window.
At the start of the apocalypse, civilians stripped the stores of all their merchandise in order to stock up on food, before holing themselves up in their houses or wherever they thought was safest. Stores were robbed, guns were stolen and traded, and things like curtesy was left to the wolves.
The more people got eaten, the more humans were converted to walking, reeking, flesh-ripping morons. That was three years ago.
Roxas hadn't seen a human soul since.
Luckily, the zombies loved to hunt at night. That left the streets bare to roam around on during the day, free to anyone brave enough, or smart enough, to not sit in one place until the zombies caught wind of your scent.
To Roxas, that meant freedom. He could go anywhere he wanted to now. Nothing like broadway, Disney world, or the White House meant anything anymore. So why not visit Manhattan? The one place he'd always wanted to go since he was a kid?
That mistake almost cost him his life.
Fuck. Roxas stretched his back and rolled his soar shoulders. That was two magazines of ammo used up. He only had one left, and that was for the Baretta M9 gracing the holster at his hip. Lowering his AK-47 rifle, he felt empty without the extra fire power.
He only wanted to see the icon of New York, that's all! Now Roxas had to swing by the nearest gun-bank and raid a new weapon and some ammo. Fuckin' cannibalistic rotties, ruining his day. Roxas panted as he bent over his knees to catch his breath.
Had he not been so exhausted, the blonde might have heard the skyscraper's sliding door open, or the quick footsteps leading up beside him. However, in the state he was in, he only noticed the person once he felt the nozzle of a pistol rub against his scull.
Fuck-ing hell.
Roxas froze, his body paralyzed at the thought of another human being possibly being next to him, and the second and more sane acknowledgement of the deadly weapon threatening to kill him. He heard a low, baritone chuckle bubble up to the surface next to him.
"Turn around slowly." The voice said. Oh god, who in the deepest pits of hell could own such an alluring voice? If the United States still existed, that voice would be illegal in all fifty states.
Obliging to the voice's command, Roxas turn slowly towards the one holding his life in his...oddly large and rough hands, with a touch of a tan. Long arms lead up to some lean muscle and a thin figure with roaring red hair and mischievous green eyes that were now cautious and ... very hot with twin tear tattoos running down each cheek.
Across the man's firm chest a black, ripped wife beater hugged his abdomen, a showing every cut detail. Over his shoulders rested a red toned aviator jacket left open to sway with the breeze. Washout jeans ripped at the knees worshipped his hips, above a pair of black combat boots.
Blinking, Roxas mentally shook his head as he frowned to the tall man. The first human he'd seen in years. What should he say? What do you say to a person? Hello, please don't shoot the ever loving crap out of me?
"...Hi?" Roxas managed to croak out, his voice rough from two and a half years of neglect. Inside, he scorned himself for the failure. Never having someone to talk to, he had almost forgotten how to even communicate.
The man with fuckin' fire for hair seemed to grin before lowering his desert eagle toward Roxas' chest. "Are you bitten?"
Roxas processed the English words in his head a bit. Letting his mind gloss over the previous skirmish he had with his dead company, he knew he wasn't bitten.
Roxas shook his head.
"You don't talk much do you?" The man put the gun away, much to the blonde's relief, and held out a hand to help him up. "The name's Axel. Come inside, Zexion'll fix you up."
Roxas couldn't believe his ears. "There's...more?"
"More what? More humans?" Axel rubbed the back of his head, his hair ruffling softly against his rough hands. "Yeah. There's more of us."
A miracle. A fucking miracle.
"How...?" Roxas managed to say clearly, his mind arguing with him that there's no possible way that a group of humans could survive in the tallest skyscraper in America. It was a trap essentially. If zombies got in, there would be no escape without a helicopter or a para-shoot to jump out the windows, in which case the zombies would see you floating away and wait at the landing point with their mouths open like sharks awaiting their daily meal at a zoo.
How...had they survived?
"Let's get you inside before we answer questions. It's daylight, but it's New York...crowded with zombies like a city of death." Axel helped Roxas up with his outstretched hand and lead him to he sliding doors. "Welcome, to our fortress of defense. Castle Oblivion."
So, tell me what you all think. Should I continue this whim of mine and write a zombie-based Akuroku fic?
Let me know! Please review, and be free to offer any ideas you might have for where this story could go.