A/N: So I decided to write this zombie apocalypse AU since I like zombie shows and games.
In this story everyone is human, well, human or zombie. And the relationship development is probably gonna be very, very slow.
Anyway, I hope you all like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost Girl, and I don't profit from it. If I did, it would be Valkubus heavy.
Chapter 1 - Downpour
The last breath of the day was consumed by the nightfall, and the rainclouds devoured the sky. Lightnings came, followed by distant thunders.
A man limped along the sidewalk in a back alley in the darkness, with his head tilting to one side and one of his legs bending in a weird way. His ragged clothes barely covered his body, exposing the festered flesh and large skin lesions.
The lightning illuminated the entire world for a brief moment. Like having a lamp suddenly flashing behind him, the man was able to see things for a split second. His attention got drawn to a concert poster on the wall on his right side.
A corner of the poster flicked in the strong wind, the ink on it already washed away. Still, the young female singer's smile was so sweet that it caught his eyes.
He stared to the direction of the poster, and approached it. He sniffed for a few times, before he let out a disappointed growl and left.
Dragging his bent leg over the bricks of the sidewalk, he wandered away from the alley and entered a major street.
He paused in the middle of the intersection in the darkness, looking around, sniffing at the stores on the side.
Most stores had their doors and windows locked, chained and boarded. Some of them, however, had their doors wide open, revealing a room with scattered merchandize, falling chairs, and blood spattered walls behind them.
Then sky lit up again with loud thunders humming inside the clouds, and the man noticed a small bakery on his left side. He caught a glimpse of the female chef statue behind the window. She was holding a big cake with her thumb up.
He stared at her in the bright yet brief light, taking in her light blue dress, the "best cake in town" sign on the cake, and the big grin on her face.
He sniffed again and approached the store, till his nose was pressed against the cold glass. He didn't smell anything, though, so he grumbled and left.
After another bright lightning and a deafening thunder, there came the pouring rain.
The man stopped and raised to look at the dark sky. He stuck his tongue out to catch the heavy rain drops, before he grunted at the bland taste and walked away.
The lightning seemed to have become more frequent, frequent enough for him to see his vague reflection in a puddle under his feet. He tilted his head hard, staring at himself, inhaling again. Other than the hot air and the rain, he smelled nothing.
He stepped over the puddle and wandered in the rain, until he arrived at a big intersection.
The traffic lights quitted work a long time ago, and the road signs had fallen to the ground. Three out of the four exits of the intersection were blocked by piled up cars, huge sandbags, twisted barb wires and varies of large objects, leaving him nowhere to go.
He turned back, glancing at where he had come from. Unwilling to go back, he circled in the middle of the intersection, wondering if he should try to climb over one of the piles.
He eventually decided that he should, and so he shambled towards the east exit.
The wind blew through the sultry air, carrying over a fresh smell to him.
He paused and inhaled deeply, puss humming in his throat. He turned to look at the direction, sniffing aggressively in the darkness, devouring that smell It was the smell of a living human, the smell of a pumping heart and a fresh brain.
He growled excitedly and straightened his body, his tongue now licking his rotten lips. He stumbled towards that smell in the heavy rain.
He had only taken a few steps, before someone appeared on top of the car pile that was in front of him.
The lightning revealed the slender contour of a female, and also her face that was partly covered by the hood of her raincoat. Silhouetted by the bright flash, she paused for a split second, her chest heaving hard, and a few locks of blonde hair slid out from her hood.
She stared at the man as she drew her falchion out from the sheath tied to her right side of her right thigh.
The man inhaled her sweet scent and prepared to dash. Before he had moved though, the woman leaped towards him in the air. With a single slash she chopped his head off.
His head fell, rolling on the ground before she even landed on her feet. It went into a puddle and stopped. The lightning allowed her to see that rotten face, the stuck out tongue and one empty eye socket.
The body languishly fell down, and blacked, thickened pus oozed out from the cut neck.
The woman huffed, and simply let the rain wash the blood stain off her blade.
She sheathed her blade afterwards and pulled her hood tighter to shield herself from the rain. Then, she walked down the street in the downpour.
When she realized that the heavy rain wasn't going to stop any time soon, she decided to find a place to crash for tonight.
She examined the stores on the sides of the street with a flashlight in her hand, aiming for one that was perfectly boarded. And eventually, she found a small restaurant.
She tilted the flashlight up and glanced at its name sign. Cafe Saffron, with the second word partly smudged by blood and gooey tissue. Although, the rain had washed most of the goo off.
She examined the outside of the restaurant cautiously, looking for any signs of zombie intrusion. After having found none, she pressed her ear to the crack between two wood planks that had been nailed to the window frame and listened carefully to any growling, grunting or purring sound made by the zombies.
She heard none, and that made her feel a little relieved. She scanned the surroundings again, before she quickly took off a few planks from a window and squeezed herself through.
At first she just lightly pressed the tip of her toes on the floor, her eyes vigilantly seeking for any possible danger inside. After finding none, she slowly and quietly lowered the heel of her foot, and entered the restaurant.
She placed the planks back to the window and made sure they were nailed back properly, then she held up her flashlight in her left and scanned the room, her right hand holding her falchion.
It was a very small restaurant. The dining place only had five sets of tables and chairs. Each table had a small vase in the center, but the flowers had dried out a long time ago.
Behind the counter, there were the menu and the framed licenses on the wall, with a small liquor cabinet under them. Empty trays and kitchen utensils were behind the display case countertop, with a few rags on the side.
An opened door next to the menu revealed a small pantry room behind, and she frowned when she saw cases of water and food on the shelves in it. It seemed to her that someone had been using this place as a surviving bunker, but where is this someone?
She took a deep breath and held it as she approached the counter slowly. The moment she turned and entered the back of it, she paused and sighed.
She saw a decomposed body sitting against the back of the counter. His limbs lolled, his mouth wide open and so were his eyes. A huge splatter of blood, brain tissue and bone fragments was on the counter behind his head . In his right hand there was a revolver.
She let out a deep breath as reached for one of the rags on the counter. She wrapped it on on the grip panel of the revolver and picked it up. she put the three remaining bullets into her pocket, and tossed the gun aside.
Glancing at the dead man, she sighed. "Sucks to be you," she murmured.
She checked the pantry room next, her heart fluttered at all the canned food, bags of flour, cases of bottled water, and the medical supplies.
"Jack pot," she murmured to herself, a subtle smile blooming at the corner of her mouth. She stabbed her falchion into the water case and cut it open, before she grabbed a bottle. She gulped it, wiped her mouth with her sleeves and tossed the empty bottle to the corner of the room.
Sitting down in the middle of the floor, she took her backpack off and put a couple of bottled water into it. Then she went through everything in there, and selected a few high calorie food and a small amount of medical supply to put into her bag. She'd have taken everything if she hadn't been on a mission and had to pack light.
She scooted to the corner, grabbing a jar of peanut butter. She opened it, scooping out some peanut butter with her index finger. She put it into her mouth and closed her eyes as she savored the creamy, nutty taste.
Taking her map out, she marked the restaurant on it, so if she needed to come back she'd know where it was.
She took a few candy bars and slid them into the side pocket of her pants, before she exited the pantry.
She stood in the middle of the dining room, wondering if she should just stay here or go find another place with no dead body behind the counter.
Eventually she decided to settle down here. She was too exhausted, and didn't want to risk running into more zombies. Besides, it was just one night. She could handle the nasty smell in the air, since she had slept in places much worse. A dead body is much better than a flesheater after all.
She took a couple of liquor bottles out and wrapped them in layers of trash bags she found under the sink. She smashed them, and poured the tiny broken pieces under the windows and doors, so if anyone came in she would hear them.
After setting up the alarm system, she took her sleeping bag out and laid it against the wall, away from the dead body.
She took off her raincoat, and hung it on the back of a chair right next to her. Leaning against the wall, she pulled her boots off, and then her socks. She sat down, wiggling her sore toes while drinking some more water.
Her dinner was simple, a can of diced fruits, a can of sardine, two candy bars smeared with a thick layer of peanut butter and a bottle of water. She devoured everything, including the juice in the can. The chocolate was too sweet for her taste, but she knew her body needed all the sugar after the long trek she had today.
She licked the last bit of juice off the edge of the can, before she threw the can to the counter. After the loud sound of the can hitting the countertop and then the floor, it was all the downpour outside again, consuming her.
She slid into her sleeping bag and turned off her flashlight. The heavy raining made the darkness even worse. She sighed, rolling to her side and closing her eyes, her right hand pressing on the hilt of her falchion that was placed right next to the pillow she made with her folded jacket.
Slowly, she drifted into her dreams.
With one hand pressing on the soaked tree trunk, and the other pressing on her left knee, she gasped desperately, forcing the air into her lungs till it stung her throat and pained her chest.
She heard someone stumbling through the woods in the rain, towards her, and she turned around in great panic. She wanted to pull out her weapon, but her arms were giving out.
She pressed her back against the tree, panting, her fingers digging into the tree bark. The rain poured down, and she trembled hard, unable to feel her legs. She eventually grabbed the hilt of her dagger with her shaking hand, and prepared for a fight when someone appeared in front of her.
Her heart was flooded by a blissful joy, though, when she recognized the person.
"Acacia!" She exclaimed and ran towards the elder woman. She noticed the blood on her face and a long, deep scratch wound on her right forearm. She caught the woman in her arms before Acacia collapsed.
"You are hurt," she said, her voice shaking in fear.
Acacia shook her head as she tried to straighten herself. "All clear, Tamsin," she said. "Camp's all clean now. Let's...go back."
Tamsin nodded, and followed her. The journey back to the camp was quiet, so quiet that it gave her creeps. Acacia blood was dripping along her arm and then into the dirt the entire time.
They walked, walked, and walked, and the rain got heavier and heavier. Eventually, Tamsin was too exhausted to continue, and so she stopped and panted.
The other woman turned around. "Hurry up," she slurred in a low voice. It almost sounded like a vague growl. "Before they munch your brain…."
As the last word slipped out, Tamsin inhaled in horror. Her heart stopped as she watched Acacia's face rotting slowly in front of her. Her mouth dropped, and her lips fell off. Then dark goo came out from her eye sockets. Her blackened teeth parted, and her tongue swirled behind them.
"Tamsin..." Acacia growled and reached for her.
Tamsin screamed.
With a loud, painful gasp, Tamsin jerked up and grabbed her weapon. Her heart pounded in fear and the cold sweat soaked her back. She tucked her into the corner of the wall, and turned on her flashlight with her shaking hand.
The warm glow comforted her. Slowly, she realized that it was just a dream, but the thunderstorm outside was so loud. It made her dream feel so real to her, as if she was running through the woods in the heavy rain right now.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pressed her back against the wall. Somehow the image of that dead body behind the counter entered her mind. It was very close to what Acacia had looked like in her dream, and she had a hard time getting it off her mind.
She swallowed her fears as she forced herself to think about something else, but her mind kept going back to the dead body.
She started to wonder why that man killed himself in here. He had had a pantry full of supplies, and he turned this place into a perfect fortress with all the boarded windows and doors. He could have survived for a very long time.
Why had he killed himself then? Had he been too afraid? Had his sanity been consumed by the loneliness and the great frustration? Maybe he had lost someone he had loved, so he decided that he would no longer suffer? Or maybe, he had lost all his hope, like many of the others who had survived from the zombies but had chosen to end their lives.
Maybe he had just stopped wanting to live any longer. So, he sat down, shoved the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.
"Sucks to be you," Tamsin whispered. Maybe to the dead man. Maybe to herself.
Letting out a long, heavy sigh, she drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. Burying her face into her knees, she sighed again, which almost sounded like a whimper.
The thunder exploded outside, one after another, and the sound of the downpour drained everything from her.