A sort-of companion drabble to these drawings;

.com/post/9210582786/kurt-and-the-dead

.com/post/9337465287/kurt-please-tell-me-how-much-you-love-me-once

by the amazing ssimilee.

Puck grabs his arm as the door creaks ominously.

"Dude, we gotta go!"

They start running and Blaine reaches out behind to grab Kurt's hand and make sure he was keeping up… He grabs thin air. Blaine comes to a screeching halt, fear filling him with icy claws. Puck almost falls over at his sudden halt. Blaine seems to turn in slow motion.

"Kurt!"

The metal doors are starting to buckle, the flimsy wood holding them shut starting to splinter. There are hands reaching through the gap, pale and rotting, the long nails scraping and screeching against the metal. Puck grabs him in a full-body hug as Blaine screams.

"NO!"

Kurt is back against the doors, clutching the bloody axe he'd been using. He could be leaning against the metal and waiting for them to meet him for lunch or to go home at the end of the day. His pale face is calm, even peaceful. The pale, rotting hands are reaching through the gap of the doors behind him. One hand already has him by the shoulder, long jagged nails ripping through the Dalton blazer and the white shirt underneath to pierce holes in Kurt's pale skin. Another hand has the side of his head, the nails of the pinky and ring fingers scraping thin cuts around his eye. There are more hands reaching out of the darkness behind him.

Blaine screams and struggles against Pucks grip.

"NO, no, Kurt! Kurt!"

"It's too late, man!" Puck shouts in his ear. "We gotta go, now!"

Kurt opens his eyes and looks down the hall at them. The doors shudder again and more dead hands grab at Kurt. He gives Blaine a terribly sad smile.

"Sorry…I wasn't…faster."

Kurt opens his mouth to say something else, but the wood holding the doors shut shatter before he can say anything. Kurt's eyes go wide and horrified as a rotting hand wraps around his neck. There is a horrible screeching moaning shuffling sound and there are suddenly too many hands and…

The doors swing shut as best they can in their battered state.

Blaine can't hear anything but a buzz of white noise. Nonononononononono….

Puck is crying as he drags Blaine away, running as fast as he can while carrying the smaller boy. He can hear the awful sound of Kurt's cut-off scream echoing in his head, the sound of snapping bone and the shrieks of the undead fading as he runs down the halls.

Weeks later, when Blaine is no longer catatonic, they'll go out on patrol again. They will be turning the corner to try and see if anything is left in the kitchen when Blaine suddenly takes off running. Puck will run after him, but he won't be fast enough to stop him.

"Blaine! It's not him! Stop, stop!" He will scream as Blaine barrels down to the end of the hall where a lone zombie is shuffling.

Blaine will hurtle to a stop a few feet away from the undead figure, gasping for breath and trying not to cry. His voice will shake when he speaks.

"Kurt."

The thing that was once Kurt Hummel will notice him then, and lash out, hands clawing the air. Blaine will let the tears fall freely then, let them wash thin clean lines onto his face as he grabs the wrists of what was once a person he loved. The creature who-is-not-Kurt struggles and thrashes against his grip, still trying to get at him.

"Kurt, please..." His voice will crack. "I just need to hear...please tell me that you love me, just once more, please..."

There will be a sudden crack of gunshot and the creature who-is-not-Kurt will fall to the ground, almost taking Blaine with it. Puck will wipe his eyes and lower the rifle as he moves to stand behind Blaine. Blaine will sit there for a long time, staring blankly at thin air, before Puck forces him to stand up and go back to base with him.

They will sit in silence for a long time before falling asleep that night.

A/N; Welp, I never thought I'd ever write anything to do with zombies, but it seems I must eat my words. Let me know what you thought!

- tater