Disclaimer - I don't own Voltron: Legendar Defender. This was written for Fanfic Wattpad's A Zombie Fanpocylpse contest which was back in June of 2017.
BBlackest Night, Purple Apocalypse
He found himself swallowed by darkness, the four walls of his confinement pushing against his small frame as he squished into the bottom of the small locker. The smell of metal filled his nostrils, but so did the smell of blood coming from outside of the locker he was jammed into. Keith's small arms wrapped around his arms, trying to forget the moments before, only to bury his head into his knees, smelling his sweaty clothing.
"Keith, no matter what happens, I need you to stay in here." His father's voice, his last words, echoed through his head, and the boy's chin rested on his knees, sticky sweat clinging to his body. The memory of what occurred remained fuzzy pushed to the back of his mind in an attempt to push back the panicked feeling which sat in his stomach and throat like a hard stone.
The day started off normal, or as normal as a kid living in a shack out in the desert with his father could. The machines in the small shack, or instruments as his father called them hummed, giving out various readings Keith didn't understand as he sat on the old couch in front of a makeshift coffee table supported on cinderblocks and other items. Boxes and other items were around the room, including a shelf of books his father worked from.
The man was quiet, yet large and strong, or what Keith thought of as strong. In truth, he'd not met many people in his young life, with all his memories of the looming desert outside of their shack. The climate was dusty, or at least that was how the younger member of the family of two living in the desert would describe the place with his limited vocabulary. The place was also filled with large rocks which nearly touched the clouds on some days, and the clouds made interesting shapes.
A workbook was set in front of him, the intention being for Keith to finish the assignments his father had listed on a sheet of paper nearby, upon which he was allowed outside to roam as he pleased, excluding the hours of high noon, when the two would take their lunch. Sometimes the man would take him in towards the city and the garrison, and Keith would see other people, yet the only memorable thing about this was the red bike with the scratches.
That morning though, a loud booming sound hit the shack, making the walls shake, and pieces of plaster fall. Keith startled, looking out at the sky, seeing for a moment a large flash, before turning to look at his father. The look on the man's face was fear, something he couldn't place quite well due to rarely seeing this expression, yet something told Keith something was wrong. The thought became solidified when his father grabbed his wrist, tugging him up and towards the door.
The morning breakfast spread across the table, soaking the much-dreaded workbook, and yet his father didn't seem to care about the mess. Instead, Keith heard the door snapping open with a sickening thud before his father tugged him over to the red hover bike waiting to take them where ever the man decided to go. The man glanced through a pair of binoculars as Keith got on. When the man got on his son's arms tucked around the man's thick waist, watching as the key turned in the ignition, and they were off.
The bike kicked up a cloud storm, streaming across the landscape as Keith looked back. He saw some kind of movement which made his small body quake, the feeling of fear hitting him. A few minutes later – Keith couldn't tell how long – his father stopped, pulling out binoculars again. The man let out a deep sigh, before taking off again, arriving at the Garrison. A soldier dressed in gray saluted Keith's father and asked what was going on. The word Galra was heard, and other things Keith didn' quite understand. His father took him to a place within the garrison and said, "Keith, I need you to stay here."
The man left, leaving Keith to silence as he waited for the man to return.
Instead, Keith was greeted by the sound of gunfire and shouting, in which instinct kicked in, only for his father to rush in, tugging on Keith's arm. "Run."
Keith's dark-blue eyes blinked, not understanding until he saw a soldier with purple skin suddenly lurch out of the strobing light of the corridor. The soldier's fingers reached out, scratching his father's already scarred face, only to be shot in the head by his father. Another grabbed out, scratching the back of his neck painfully, yet they too were shot in the head. The man tugged him then into a locker, shoving him and telling him to stay put. Something in the man's dark eyes told him he wasn't coming back. Leaving wasn't an option, as his father managed to make sure he couldn't get out, leaving him all alone.
The air conditioning in the garrison eventually shut off, as did the lights, leaving him to doze off in the apprehensive solitude.
~V~
"It's dangerous to go in there Shirogane."
"I honestly don't care."
Shiro rubbed the back of his neck, looking at his companion. His fingers ached, wishing to have a katana in his hands rather than the gun, yet knew a weapon provided was a weapon provided. The air in the garrison was musty, and in some of the areas, he caught the whiff of blood, although he didn't see any. His feet squeaked against the floor, hoping to find the two people he was looking for.
"Fine. As an adult, I'm going with you."
The situation honestly seemed bleak, the details nearly going in one ear and out another due to how unbelievable everything sounded, yet a zombie outbreak had occurred just as his flight was derailed into the militarized zone just outside of the quarantine zone. He'd simply wanted to spend some time visiting some family he'd not seen in a long time, yet both of the people he was looking for were not anywhere to be found. It didn't take long to figure out they were in this vile place.
The light flickered above them, and a shadow started to stagger towards them, a growling sound as the adults attempted to slowly clear out the hallways in a methodical manner. A hissing, gnawing like the sound was heard as the light in the grey colored hallway flickered again, and a soldier with purple skin lunged forward, only for his companion to shoot the other in the head. "Seriously, you don't want these things to touch you. There is no vaccine, and onset is fast."
"How?"
"That's on a need to know basis."
Shiro took a deep breath, following the man as more halls were cleared out, and heat vision was used to look for survivors. Both the purple zombies and the survivors showed a heat signature, but living people were always hidden behind something. Shiro took another deep breath, noting that there was another room cleared, with no sign of who they were looking for. Glancing down at the body as he passed, it didn't seem as if the person was still recognizable.
A clattering sound was heard, and they turned, only to see a part of the ceiling come down. Shiro took a deep breath, his back to the wall, keeping an eye on both the hall and the ceiling, hoping there was nothing hidden up there, but then again, the zombies didn't need to hide, nor did they have the intelligence to hunt. "At least, that's what everyone thinks."
Taking a deep breath, he continued into a locker room, catching sight of a small figure hunkered down in one of the lockers. A bench was pushed up against the locker, and he moved it away, his companion shushing him as the noise might draw the monsters to them. He opened the locker door, shining his light down onto a familiar figure. The boy was asleep. Bending down, he could feel how warm the boy's skin was, noting no injury.
Swallowing, he scooped Keith up into his arms. "Got him."
"He's not injured."
"Not that I could see."
"We should..." A loud bang was heard, and in the flickering light, they saw three of the turned ones, lunging forward, only to be shot down.
Shiro took a deep breath. "We should get out of here, that's what."
The two continued on, avoiding for some time any more, particularly when they came to an area that was supposed to be cleared. However, something lunged out of nowhere, scratching Shiro's right arm and nearly knocking Keith from his arms. He shot out with his own gun, bringing the guy down. He froze, realizing that his partner now had a gun on him. "What?"
"You're going to turn."
"That..." Shiro took a deep breath, carefully calculating his options.
~V~
The place was white, stark white, and yet it smelled like a mortuary. At least, in Shiro's mind, it did. He took a deep breath, glancing down at what remained of his right arm. He was behind a plastic sheet, under observation to make sure he didn't turn. Keith was nowhere in sight, apparently having an injury they hadn't expected, and the purple spreading from the back of his neck. They'd taken him away, possibly to kill him like they did the other zombies.
Suddenly, the trey of food next to him scattered across the floor, his one good hand had lashed out at the item in his frustration. The hand of said arm reached up to touch his forehead, letting out a groan. "Seriously..."
"Shirogane?"
"What?"
"You've been in quarantine for forty-eight hours."
Shiro's eyes blinked, before standing up. "I guess that means I can come out?"
"Yes."
"I want to see Keith."
"I'm not sure that is a good idea."
"Why not? I saw what those others turned into."
"It's not..." The person sighed, before beckoning him to follow. Shiro followed after, not at all sure. They came to another room.
There, behind the glass hooked up to a multitude of monitors was Keith. Half of his face was purple, and one eye glowed yellow under his half-lidded gaze. Most of his body, however, remained seemingly untouched.
"It's gotten worse. Why isn't he like the others already?"
"Worse? Actually, he's gotten better. For some reason, his body is fighting off the virus. In fact, we're not worried about the virus anymore."
"You mean you came up with a vaccine?"
"Came up with a vaccine? Shirogane, that kid is the vaccine."
Shiro swallowed, his hand touching the glass. His teeth gritted together. "Exactly what is that supposed to mean? And how did this occur in the first place."
The man starlted. "I can't tell you."
Yet Shiro knew how to get information. Like, for example, the virus was released by an alien group called the Galra. The Galra seemed to have some kind of immunity to the virus, at least the maddening effects and had tried to take control in some places of the people they zombified, making the struggle worse Whatever made the Galra immune was in Keith.
"Shiro?"
"Huh?"
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"My mom's an alien!"
His hand clenched shut, his frustration growing. Zombies ravaged certain spots of Earth, creating who knew what kinds of damage and loss of life, and yet he was getting no answers at all. A friend of his, Matt Holt, managed to help him hack the needed information. The adults suspected Keith was immune because he was part Galra.
~V~
Keith woke up with no sense of time. Of course, he never knew how much time passed out in that shack he lived in with his father. It was just the two of them. One of the adults said he'd been asleep for an entire week, which he remembered as a very long time to wait for something. When he could finally speak. "Where's my dad?"
"He..."
The doctors avoided the subject, but also the topic of the purple people zombies. Then, an older kid came in to see him. The person had a smile but was also missing part of their right arm. Keith's eyes widened at the sight. The person looked down at his arm. "Oh, don't worry about that. That doesn't hurt."
Keith took a deep breath, trying to place the person who seemed familiar.
"Hey, Keith..."
The Keith in question shook his head. "Who are you?"
"Wait, you don't recognize me?"
"No..."
The young man frowned, before reaching out to ruffle Keith's hair with his good hand. "Just think of me from now on as your older brother. I'm going to take care of you."
"Dad?"
"Yeah. I'm going to take care of you because he can't."
Keith looked at the ground, not at all pleased. A siren went off, and the adults noted another outbreak which needed to be taken care of. Shiro patted the boy's arm, knowing it would be a long struggle.