When Kurt Hummel imagined his dreams of making it to New York somehow being thwarted by 'unknown forces', he wasn't expecting it to be the cause of the country's inhabitants mutating into zombies.
Of course, that was months ago, and the countertenor can hardly recall what life used to be like back in Lima, Ohio - back when his biggest worries involved neanderthals and getting that solo - when all he can think about now consists of making sure everyone he loves is safe and surviving in this infected land. But here he is, finally in New York city despite the circumstances, and he stands in the centre of Times Square to take in the scenery.
The skyline at dawn is, for the first time in living memory, fumeless, the rising sun causing the lack of clouds to turn into pastel pinks and oranges that clash with its powdered blue backdrop and making it look as though nothing is actually wrong with the world they've been surviving in. His glasz eyes then drag themselves away from what's above and beyond what he'll ever reach to look at the result of an uncontainable cannibalistic virus.
Times Square is covered in the remains of chaos - cars and cabs scatter the streets after being abandoned by their owners, weeds grow through the cracks in the ground and vines begin to scale buildings and wrap themselves around the most awkward of structures. The air is stale and filled with the stench of human flesh decaying, the normal hustle and bustle of the city replaced by a silence that makes even the smallest hairs on the back of your neck prickle with anticipation with most visible surfaces stained with crimson splodges and trails of those trying to prise themselves away from the infected imprinted by fading scarlet lines.
Kurt can't help but shudder when he sees the occasional corpse or skeletal remains of a stranger, even though he's seen so much worse since this whole thing began. He's witnessed the death of those he was once close with; he's seen friends run away and never come back; he's watched as he's left the people he's loved behind in order to run away...
But then he turns around and sees the remainder of their group - looking around their surroundings with awestruck expressions and eyes glazed in relief - and Kurt feels relieved that this is nearly over, because they've lost members and argued with each other over the smallest of things and witnessed events that he thought could only happen in movies, but they're still together. He turns around and shuts his eyes, allowing the quiet to swarm around him and nip gently at his skin as if to say you've come this far - you're not dreaming and he clutches the poster in his hand, allowing himself to inhale deeply as sunlight finally spills over the city and illuminates their surroundings.
Because for the first time since that cup of coffee in May, the one sip of his grande non-fat mocha that changed everything, Kurt feels as if he can breathe again.
Obligatory Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, the title of this fic comes from "Mona Lisa (When The World Comes Down)" by The All-American Rejects and I also don't own any movies/games/tv shows/songs that the characters may reference to in the future.
Just a short introduction/teaser for this fic. :D
Yes, I'm writing a zombie!fic. I've outlined most of what's going to happen here, but I've decided that I'm going to be taking prompts from anyone who sends them in - they can be of anything, although if it's smut, I might not write it (I've never written it before, and I might attempt to in this fic, but I dunno if I want to write it and then have it come out absolutely awful) - but it's open to pretty much anything! ConCrit is like gold dust to me, so please send it in. Thanks for reading!