A/N: Hello world I have returned and I brought hell with me. AAaaAAAaaa why must I always love the unpopular ships, I have fallen for these two trash cans and it's gotten so bad that I bring you this piece of garbage. I think every ship needs a zombie fic and although it's way past Halloween I give you this short preview sort of chapter to what is sure to be a mess.
Disclaimer: All Durarara! characters belong to Ryogo Narita. I don't own them.
Warning: Before you go any further know that this will be yaoi which means boyxboy also know that this will have gore in it. If your all cool with that then please enjoy!
Chapter 1
"Saki!"
Loud claps resonated against blood stained concrete, the perfect backdrop to the roars of mass panic and chaos that was the city of Ikebukuro. The monotonous beeps of the dial tone blared in the the blonde's ear as he ran through the back streets of the once prosperous entertainment district. The scent of blood and smoke clung to his skin as he quickly darted left, past the mounds of dirt-tainted snow. The cold was nipping at his skin, causing the boy to shiver and pick up an extra burst of speed to compensate for the lack of heat in the air. Pressing the call button once more Masaomi brought the beaten-up device to his ear, desperately waiting for an answer.
"Come on, come on, Saki pick up!"
The blonde's shouts were filled with fear as he continued to sprint through the maze of graffiti covered walls. He needed to find Saki, he needed to make sure she was okay. Maybe if he had listened to Izaya… No, screw that asshole! How was he supposed to know any of this was actually going to happen? How was he expected to trust the informant after all the shit he put him through?! The Yellow Scarves, the Blue Squares, Mikado, Anri, and Saki. He's trapped him in his thread time and time again; so when is he supposed to know when the older male is lying or not? Who was he kidding— Izaya always lies; but even if the informant really didn't know about this, his lie had become a reality. Loud rings of laughter began to bubble up from the teens scratchy throat; his burning lungs sucking in more frigid air as he continued his mad run in no particular direction, in search of a girl who may or may not even still be alive. The informant is either the luckiest guy on earth, or he is everything Saki kept telling him about. 'Izaya knows everything, if you're ever in trouble go to Izaya.' The girl's words rang through his head as he continued to laugh psychotically down the alleyway. The teen could feel his knees buckling as a bout of weakness surged through his body, his cackles dying down into quiet giggles and pitiful hiccups as he collapsed to his knees on the snow covered concrete. The built up heat began to seep out of his body due to the slushy mixture of ice, snow and water. The cold crept up his knees into his thighs and chest, causing the skin to get irritated and red from the harsh temperature. Not bothering to remove his arms from lying limply at his sides, the blonde clenched his fists trying to prevent the oncoming tears from escaping his eyes. In the face of his despair Masaomi began to do what he always did— shift all the blame to himself and direct all his anger on Izaya. Furrowing his brows in aggravation, Masaomi slapped his face, determination further redding his cold stained cheeks. A string of curses escaped his mouth as he glared up at the grey clouded sky.
"That bastard, that fucking asshole! Telling me all this and expecting me to believe him! Believe him, believe him like Saki did…"
Thinking more about what he had just said a light bulb went off in the blonde's head, his copper colored eyes widening in realization. He had searched all over Ikebukuro looking for Saki, scouring every nook and cranny while dodging every mutilated corpse, insane citizens and fed up soldiers. Yet he hadn't thought to think about Saki at all, not really. Where does she hang out? Who are her friends besides me? Who does she feel safe with? Saki had always been such a mystery to the former leader of the Yellow Scarves. Did he even really know the girl? Shaking his head to get back on track, Masaomi focused his attention on what he knew for sure about Saki Mikajima. Who was the person she always spoke about, the person she always said to go to if he was ever in trouble…?
"Izaya."
He breathed the man's name out in loathing, glaring at the ground; losing all focus on his surroundings. What a horrible choice. Suddenly, the loud crashing sound of metal alerted the teen to the situation he was in. Blonde hair rose on the back of his neck in fear and disgust at the sight before him. It was a man in a suit who looked to be in about his late forties. Now, an ordinary sight like this would hold no relevance or concern to a 17 year old high school dropout like Masaomi Kida; but the blood shot eyes and uncoordinated movements were what shot major distress signals throughout his brain. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he watched the living corpse crash against the dirt clod wall and dumpster it was trapped between. The resounding slap of flesh against metal and concrete played over and over again in the teen's mind as the man snapped his mucus and blood stained teeth at him in a frenzy of hunger. Trying to reawaken his cold and paralyzed limbs, Masaomi ripped his gaze away from the flailing corpse doll, springing his muscles into movement as he fled down the open alley and away from the infected man. If the teen wasn't running for his life, he would have laughed at the 'deer in the headlights' routine he'd just pulled. Continuing to sprint through the snow flurries and fires of Ikebukuro, the former Yellow Scarf made his way to Shinjuku; forgetting all about his waterlogged phone lying in the alleyway with the contact info opened on the name 'Izaya Orihara'.