Chapter 1: The End
Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin
Summary: It took less than twenty-four hours for their world to come crashing down. [Modern AU, Zombie Apocalypse]
Petra Ral stuck a green straw in the red fruity drink and sipped happily as she walked down the sidewalk. She still had a week before her internship started and life became hectic and super stressful. Time which she intended to enjoy to the fullest. Sirens wailed and she paused to watch the third cruiser in the last five minutes race down the street. Her curiosity was piqued. Was there a horrible accident? Or maybe a bank was held up. She even wondered if it had something to do with the riots downtown.
A small bookstore at the end of the street caught her eye, distracting her from her thoughts. The small brick building was one of her favorite places to visit. She loved used books. There was just something very special about them, aside from the obviously cheaper prices.
The bell jingled and she smiled and nodded to the owner before roaming the mystery aisles. She perked up at the cover of the next book in one of her favorite series. There were so many books she kept up with that sometimes she lost track. Grabbing it, and another with a promising summary, she walked up to the register.
Outside, a fire truck zoomed by. "Wonder what that's about," she said to herself.
"I was listening to the radio and they were saying something about a fire and riots near the Silver Fountain. I'd avoid that area today if I were you. I think there might be a gang war going on." The elderly woman shook her head, grumbling about lazy teens, violent video games, and drugs making a terrible combination.
Petra nodded and thanked her. She knew all the places with high gang activity and which gang they belonged to so she knew to steer clear of them. There's never been any notable criminal activity reported in that area, though. Either way, she had plans to be there for a dinner with her friends and figured it best to err on the side of caution.
On the one hand, it felt paranoid of her but on the other hand, she couldn't ignore the feeling of dread welling up in her stomach. A group text confirmed she wasn't the only one down to exercise caution. Everyone agreed to move the hang-out to another date and place.
Petra hit a shoe store and a small boutique before starting back to her car. The fruity drink made trouble in her stomach when a dark green, tank-like truck drove by. A Humvee, she thought they were called. That doesn't look good. It had been moving too fast but it could have been the army. Had the situation become so bad that the military had to be deployed? It was a frightening thought. The government wouldn't do that unless it was serious.
Petra shook her head. Making assumptions, that wasn't like her. But she couldn't ignore the evidence before her. First responders and the military all rushing in the same direction. Could it have something to do with the riots? She wasn't sure. I should go home well before sundown today.
She made way for the grocery store to stock up, unable to help but notice the increased military presence by the minute.
Sasha Blouse contemplated between the two options. She was hungry but she couldn't decide between the restaurants. Beside her, her friend Connie tapped his foot impatiently. "Hurry up, I'm hungry," he complained, arms folded over his chest, frowning. "This is why I hate it when it's your turn to pick."
"Shh! You can't rush this. It's a delicate process."
"Screw this! I'm too hungry!" He attempted to enter the restaurant with the large windows showing people enjoying their delicious meals.
Sasha grabbed him by the bicep and yanked him back. "That one!" She dragged him to the one across the street. It was a small, brown brick building with two windows. A dozen or so customers were enjoying their food in the quiet, friendly atmosphere. Sasha immediately took a seat and began going through the menu. Soon they were eating happily. "I love Greek food," she moaned.
"Hey, so did you hear about the riots near Silver Fountain?" Connie asked after swallowing. "I heard the craziest rumors."
"What rumors?"
"That people were actually biting one another, like total cannibalism."
"Seriously?" A voice said from the table next to them. Sasha turned to see a young man around her age with a long face, beard, and sandy hair. He had a mildly irritated look on his face, face in hand, elbow on the table. "Are people actually believing that bullshit?"
"Jean," his friend warned.
"I'm just saying, Marco, if that shit was really going down, wouldn't the government make a public announcement or something?"
"Maybe they don't want to cause panic," Sasha suggested, shrugging.
"I really hope it's nothing and they get it under control soon," Marco said optimistically.
"I'm not worried," Jean said. "It's not like—what?"
Why are they making those faces? Sasha thought, feeling her stomach twist. Connie and Marco looked uneasy, eyes wide, mouths hanging open. She and Jean were sitting with their backs to the windows and the door and promptly turned around in time to see the last two trucks pass by.
"That was the army, wasn't it?" There was a hint of nervousness in Connie's voice.
"If the military's involved," Marco said, worried, "how bad is the situation?"
"We need to go," Jean declared when silence fell.
"I thought you said you didn't believe in the crazy rumors," Connie said while Sasha pulled out her phone.
"That out there wasn't a rumor," Jean said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. "I don't believe any of this crazy shit about people biting and eating each other. There's no way they're—" Jean couldn't seem to bring himself to say it. "That's ridiculous. It must be a gang. Or terrorists. Hell, we're probably under attack from another country as we speak. We should get out of here." He didn't sound too comfortable all of a sudden.
"Um, guys." Sasha held up her phone. "Check this out." She placed the phone on the table and they scooted closer to look at the video.
Grainy footage of a brunette woman with light brown eyes appeared. "...people to stay inside. Do not leave your homes. This is a pandemic."
Shots were heard through the phone, earning a few looks of disapproval from the other customers and Sasha turned the volume down without thinking. The newswoman looked over her shoulder, one hand flying to her earpiece, eyes wide with terror. "...police are firing at the infected." The camera moved shakily to half a dozen cops shooting at an eerily pale group of a dozen men and women running at them, mouths wide open with their arms outstretched.
A pale-eyed, angry looking man tackled one of the cops, ignoring the shot to his abdomen, getting himself a mouthful of the screaming man's throat. The image changed as the camera fell. "Wait, no!" A pair of legs tried to run away, but those heels weren't made for the task. "Don't leave me!" Wide eyes and an ashen face appeared on the screen. "Don't—" A pale hand grabbed her hair and forced her on her knees. Her screams were cut off by unnatural growls and gurgles. The woman's arms became limp by her sides. Blood started pouring down her chest and stomach and the sound of wet chewing was heard.
Then the screen went dark.
Jean shook his head, dismayed. "It can't be real."
"Yeah, it's gotta be a hoax." Connie did not look like he believed his own words.
"But not this network," Marco argued, his freckled face losing all of its color. "They don't do this kind of thing. They always report serious crimes and it's always factual. If this was a prank, their reputation as a reputable news source would be ruined—no, showing something like this could incite panic and cause pure chaos and that would bring down the entire network. Whoever's behind this would probably even be charged with fraud or manslaughter or whatever and sent to prison."
"Listen to this," Sasha began, scanning news articles, "apparently the cops and the military tried to contain it but they couldn't. The news people don't know why it happened." She had a hard time swallowing, feeling her chest tighten. "And it's a global phenomenon."
"Holy shit," Connie choked out. "It can't be, it's not, it's not, you know..."
Like her, they were too afraid to say it. Somehow that would make it really real. "We should go," Jean said again. "Get out of the city."
They quickly called for their bills. "How come more people aren't aware?" Marco observed the restaurant's other occupants. Some had left after seeing the trucks, but most were still there, eating and completely oblivious.
"No one randomly checks the news when they're having lunch," Jean said. "Or at any other point in the day. It's too fucking depressing, same shit day in, day out."
"No, but what about social media?" Connie frowned, eyes going to his phone. "Everyone has smartphones nowadays. This should be spreading like wildfire."
"Do you really think you'd believe something of this scale was happening with all the fake news and other bullshit online these days?" Jean asked, scoffing. "With the shit people put on social media these days to get more views or likes?"
"It's like that story about the boy who cried wolf," Sasha said. "People might believe for the first few times, but when you see all the stuff some do online, when something really happens it's not as likely to be taken seriously. Understandably, it would be dismissed as another prank done by some attention-seeking whore." She felt an irrational bout of anger at those people on the Internet, needing to blame someone for her fear.
Jean tossed some bills on the table. "We can discuss this later. We really need to get out of here."
"I knew we shouldn't have walked here," Connie groaned, getting up.
"Where do you live?" Marco asked.
"Red Oaks apartments, it's not far from here," Sasha answered, reciting the address.
"I think I know where that is. We can drop you off," he offered immediately. "It's on our way, right, Jean?"
"Sure, whatever, let's just hurry," Jean urged, standing and turning to leave.
Marco seemed like a polite guy and Jean struck Sasha as a distrustful sort, someone wary of strangers. But at that moment, she knew it felt good to be in a group and they likely did, too. She, Connie, and Marco grabbed their stuff and quickly followed Jean. For once, she couldn't care less about the meal.
"Oof," Connie said, running into the taller man's back. "Don't just stop like that! Did you forget your phone or something?"
"It's here."
No one needed clarification. Eyes wide and fear on their faces, they moved from behind him.
Sasha felt her heart grow cold at the sight.
Outside, people were screaming, watching a group of teens tear an elderly couple apart. More were coming down the street, jumping the spectators frozen in shock and those too absorbed in trying to capture the attack on their phones instead of running for their lives.
"Heads-up!"
Armin's head snapped up and he hastily dropped the book in his hands and attempted to catch the black and white ball flying at his face. "Eren! I was in the middle of a good part!"
Eren Yeager rolled his eyes and snatched the book out of his best friend's reach. "It's a chemistry textbook, dude, there's no such thing as a good part." He held it out of reach when Armin tried to take it back. "C'mon, classes haven't started yet and you're already doing homework? Lame." He shook his head. "Let's enjoy the freedom while it lasts."
"Fine," Armin gave in, exasperated, and stood and fixed the creases in his bed while Eren rolled his eyes.
Together, they walked through the dorms, carefully dodging students and parents alike. There were still many students moving in. Eren had harassed his parents to move as quickly as possible, ready to be an independent adult and get away from them. He now shared a room with his childhood friend, who'd only agreed on the condition Eren keep their place neat and clean and do the dishes regularly.
"I'm kind of hungry, you wanna eat first?"
"Sure," Armin replied.
"I heard about this awesome burger place nearby. We can—" Eren stopped in his tracks.
"What's wrong?"
He shaded his eyes from the sun and squinted. "No way."
"What?"
"Look over there." Eren pointed, grinning. "Near the parking lot with the trees. I think someone's being pranked." Armin followed his gaze.
A man with a red stained shirt was pounding on the windows of a green car. The occupants were screaming and shaking the vehicle as they tried to move into the backseat to get away. "That's so mean." Armin made a face. "I never understand why people think those kinds of pranks are funny. What if someone thinks it's real? It's all fun and games until someone gets brained."
"Look around, man, no one's buying it. They know it's all fake blood and make-up. I'm sure there's some idiot recording this. Maybe behind that tree—look!" Eren pointed to their right. "There are more! Ha! I bet this is like some tradition thing where the upperclassmen pull one over the freshmen!"
Instead of amusement or exasperation, his best friend had a troubled look on his face. "This isn't high school, Eren. College students don't do that kind of crap."
"Of course they do! Haven't you seen any movies?"
"Sororities and fraternities do initiations, sure, but only to their newest members. This, here, is way out of control. It's too chaotic, people could get seriously hurt. And there are children present, too!" Armin pointed to a young boy crying and hugging an older girl, most likely his sister.
"Yeah." Eren frowned. With great unease, he watched a man approach a bloodied girl with a torn arm, cell phone held high in hand. He wants to take a selfie with her. She grabbed his arm and pulled him in. She's just posing.
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the blood-curdling scream and whipped his head in the direction it originated. The scream had come from a woman standing paralyzed over a little boy, the same boy who had been crying and hugging his sister. The woman was screaming at the man, her husband, to stop. He ignored her, face buried into the twitching boy's stomach.
Eren stood still and stared, unable to get his body to listen, too shocked by the scene.
The girl ran back to the family, screaming in panic and tackling the man off the boy. Stumbling, she stood and attempted to leave but he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back, teeth sinking into her exposed throat and causing a fountain of blood to explode.
Much as he tried to move, Eren's body felt like it was full of lead.
More screams erupted, some from shock and horror and some from pain and terror. Snap out of it, you idiot! The strange feeling finally receded and he felt his body back under his control once again, heart racing.
"Armin, call 9-1-1!" Eren yelled and ran over to the mom cradling her son. He saw the boy's fingers twitch and felt relieved for a nanosecond. He's alive. Then all the horror movies came back and he swore. "Hey! Get away from him!"
The mother began babbling thanks to the heavens, sobbing, thinking her child was alright. His head leaned into her face, almost like he was nuzzling her cheek for comfort. Until he opened his mouth and tore off a chunk of her flesh. The sight stopped Eren dead in his tracks. Holy shit. His stomach threatened to reject his breakfast. A tingling feeling filled his mouth. I'm gonna be sick.
"EREN!" The terrified voice of his best friend pulled him out of his stupor.
He looked between Armin, on the ground, screaming and crying, trying to keep the man from biting him, and the hysterical mother, whose screams had become wet gurgles. She's as good as dead. Eren checked his surroundings, ignoring the screams and the people running around in favor of locating a weapon. He spotted a big rock near the bushes and immediately ran to it.
Line Break
Armin let out a sob, feeling his bladder release. He'd been shakily dialing the emergency number, forgetting he was standing out in the open, an easy target. Before he knew it, there was a weight on top of him and white teeth snapping together in a traumatizing way just inches from his face. The white-gray eyes of the man were staring hatefully into his own scared blue ones. A wet thud later, he stopped, arms going limp.
Eren dropped the rock and pushed the body off him. "Let's go!" He grabbed his hand and yanked him onto his feet.
He and Eren stood and watched, muscles tensed, as the horribly disfigured aggressors chased after the living. Most of the panicking humans were rushing toward the doors, trying to get inside. "T-That's a d-death t-trap," Armin stuttered as his body shook. "T-they're going to be s-stuck."
Next to him, Eren nodded, searching their surroundings frantically. "We need to get out here." He reached into his pockets, eyes wet and shining and sheer relief filling his voice. "I have my keys. My car's parked close to here."
Armin watched the undead warily. With plenty of live meat around, they were more distracted by the screamers and the runners.
"We'll sneak over there quietly."
"Stop it, Mom! Please!"
"No, no, no, no! This isn't happening! It can't—"
"Get him off! Get him—ugeugh!"
"Please somebody help! Help! Help me!"
Eren set his jaw and kept moving, his parking spot was close now. Armin was on his heels, watching his back. No point in trying to help. They're all dead meat anyway. A bitter, sarcastic laugh bubbled in his throat at the unintentional pun. It took some willpower not to start laughing hysterically as the world fell apart around him.
The ones busy stuffing their faces ignored them as he and Armin hurried by. It's the selfie guy. Apparently she hadn't been posing after all. Now she ate his intestines like they were sausages in a Sunday morning breakfast and couldn't get enough. The corner of the parking lot where his car sat was almost empty. Fear had trumped logic and sent people cowering into buildings, eager to put a barrier between them and the undead and hide. Only a few had fought through the panic and ran to their cars, speeding away from the slaughter.
"This, this biohazard could be airborne." Armin clicked his seatbelt, looking almost dazed, and Eren followed, the normal action bringing a measure of comfort. "It could be everywhere. What if there's no escape? What if it's like the movies? Everyone has it. And when they die, they turn. Maybe they're not really dead," he rambled on. "Maybe we shouldn't base anything on the movies. They really could be sick and it's making them violent. Yeah. Yeah." He nodded to himself. "They're sick people and they need to be treated. There's no way they can be dead."
He was in shock. But Eren felt agitated, mind preoccupied with thoughts of survival and his parents and the rest of his family, and grew tired of the babbling. "Seriously? Sick people? I've never known a 'sick person' to walk around with his fucking chest ripped open and his heart sticking out."
Armin flinched.
"Why don't you just call them what they are?" Eren gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles became pale. "Fucking zombies, man. This is the end of the world."
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