A/N: This was a commission for a wonderful friend of mine; ThatBritishSmile! I've never really experimented with Zombie AUs, much less the letter-writing style of literature, but I thought I'd give it a shot anyways.
Day 01.
Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong. Outside I can hear the sounds of people screaming. It never ends, there aren't any pauses for breath because when one person stops screaming, another one picks up where they left off. I'm scared.
Arthur phoned me not too long ago and asked if I would meet him in his penthouse. He sounded strange, I think he was frightened. It's shocking because I've never seen (or heard) Arthur in such a state.
He asked me to pack as much as I could into my car and to come as quickly as possible. When I asked him what was going on, he sounded like he was choking on some kind of liquid before he fell silent. After a long pause he quietly told me he would explain everything once I got there. I can't say I trust him completely if he knows what's going on but I won't question it right now. I've got to get ready, he said there wasn't much time left before the streets would be completely unsafe. . .
'What took you so long!? I told you to hurry up. Are you injured? Were you bitten? Were you followed?'
'Calm down Arthur, I'm fine. Driving was a bitch, the streets were backed up to God knows where, that's why it took me so long to get here. Now if you don't mind I'd like to explain what the hell is going on here…'
'I—…' Arthur appeared affronted for a split-second…and sighed. 'Very well, you'd best sit down because this is a long story.'
Day 02.
I can barely hear the screams from outside Arthur's apartment windows anymore. Once in a while someone will speak, but an unspeakably horrible noise will silence them before I can even see who it might have been.
Arthur explained everything to me and says they're products of the virus the company his own is married to was working on. Supposedly they were trying to find a cure for AIDs, and Arthur was funding their research, but something went awry and the contents of their research leaked and spread. There's a constant feed of information to Arthur's phone from the joint company, we were given precautionary measures to keep ourselves safe. We boarded the windows and built metal bars around them, we turned off all the lights and use only one candle to see, we locked the door and built half a steel cage around it (so if the diseased break down the door, they can't get inside I guess?) and we've kept to the living room only. We're to make as little noise as possible as some of the unfortunate tenants of Arthur's complex who were unable to get out are trapped in their apartments/the hallways.
This is awful. . .but I'm glad it wasn't Arthur's fault; it wasn't anyone's fault. It was purely by accident and no one was given enough time to react before it was too late.
Arthur's making lunch now and it smells really good. Funny. His cooking used to be awful when we first started dating, but he's gotten a whole lot better now.
'Hey, what is it that you made this time Arts?'
'Chicken noodle soup.' Arthur whispered, beaming from ear to ear as he set two bowls down in front of them. 'It's slow and easy to cook and doesn't make any noise. I hope you'll like it.'
Alfred repressed his laughter and lent forward to plant a kiss on the corner of Arthur's mouth. 'I doubt I could hate anything you make now.'
Day 05.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Those idiots!
Arthur's company tried to send a handful of men to pick us up but didn't bother to warn us of when they were coming so we could be prepared. Because of this, we didn't unlock the cage around the door and the men all died trapped behind it. They were loud, uncoordinated, and it baffles us that they were considered an 'elite search and rescue team'.
We stayed quiet so their corpses wouldn't know we were in here, and after a while they ambled off long enough for Arthur to dart forward and close the door. Poor fools, they wasted their lives for nothing.
'I'm sorry…' The words were like a litany of sorrowful regret for the broken men who now wandered the halls as dead as everything else in the apartment complex. Their screams still haunted his ears, and he was sure the same applied for Arthur.
The Englishman looked as pale as moonlight. His eyes were laden heavily with a combination of guilt and a lack of sleep as he stared unseeingly into the dim and flickering candle light. Alfred wanted to console him, but he knew there was little he could do for Arthur's suffering conscious.
He had been so close to saving one…had touched his fingertips and promised him salvation. If he just hadn't fumbled the key, the bloodied hands of his fallen comrades would have never sealed his fate. Arthur was plagued with his false promise, tortured by it, he couldn't close his eyes without picturing the shock and fear that had struck the man who was meant to be their saviour.
And Alfred had an inkling Arthur knew the man wouldn't die peacefully. He'd failed his mission and it'd surely hurt his pride before he was ripped from his living body for the rest of eternity. And the last words to fall on his eardrums were from Arthur's tongue; 'hold on, I'll save you!'
Arthur later confessed he was hoping the man wasn't cursing him in the next life, but he also wouldn't blame him because he felt he wholeheartedly deserved it.
Day 09.
We're officially running low on food. We'd only stocked enough for two weeks as Arthur's jointed company had assured us that they would be able to detain it within that time frame.
It was a lie of course.
In fact, the feed from their sector stopped two days ago which could only mean that they'd fallen as well. Arthur verbally cursed them and snapped his phone in half, proceeding to sulk for at least two hours until I convinced him that we could do this on our own. Normally he's a very independent man, so I found it strange he was pinning all of his hopes on the scientists from their company. I think he may be more frightened and unsure of himself than I initially thought he was. I'll have to keep a closer eye on him, he doesn't seem to be handling it all too well.
I'm beginning to think we should devise a plan to free ourselves from this cage before we starve to death. It wouldn't do us any good to wait here - there's no chance of rescue and I know that Arthur, as much as I do, would rather not starve to death. I'm going to start thinking of good escape plans for us to consider.
'A distraction. We've got to create a distraction to get rid of them, at least long enough for us to get to the fire escape.'
'What kind of distraction is going to accomplish that? We haven't got the materials or means to do anything drastic except…' There was a perpetuated pause of hesitation in Arthur's tone. 'using ourselves. But don't you dare even—'
Alfred held up his hand. 'I'm not going to sacrifice myself, or you to get us out of here.' He smiled reassuringly. 'We'll think of something more effective, don't worry.'
Arthur seemed doubtful, the obviousness plastered all over his features, but a glance from Alfred was enough to win his trust, for the moment at least. Alfred was famous for going against what everyone else wanted and he knew Arthur would be tracking him for it, but the Englishman had nothing to worry about.
Alfred had other ideas tumbling throughout his ever spinning imagination.
Day 11.
Heh. . .there are bite marks all over my arm and shoulder. No, not from them, from Arthur. He's going to kill me for documenting it, but I don't care. I haven't let him read any of these yet, so what he doesn't know won't kill him. I sound pretty smug don't I?
We went two weeks without doing that, but you know how hormones get. Could only hold out for so long before I woke up and he was touchin' places. It was fun, felt pretty damn good too, like a great weight is off my shoulders and we're both pretty relaxed, but Arthur is usually very vocal, so we resorted to a quiet solution. Hence the bruises!
Oh, we still haven't found a good enough escape plan, but we're getting close I think. I can feel it, it's right there at the tips of our fingers. If we just searched a bit harder I'm sure we could come up with something that will get us out of here before we go insane. We've been eating once a day, and very little, to help preserve what food we've got left, so it might last us another three days after the 14 are up. But who knows?
I'm glad Arthur isn't as terse as he has been lately. This is the first time I've seen him lounge around on the couch and not look like his cat's just been killed (if he had a cat). I still can't believe it. Of all the people to be affected by this, he's taking it worse than I am. It's so weird to see him like this, he's always been very strong in my eyes, it's partially why I dated him. I wonder why he's like this now. . .and I wonder what would have happened to him if I hadn't made it here? Better not think about that.
Fingertips scanned the breadth of Alfred's chest, working their way downward. They slid past his stomach at an angle and traced the strong contours of his left hip bone that protruded from beneath his skin, stopping when they reached the band of his pants. Instead of plunging below, the thumb hooked itself around the closest belt loop and the remaining fingers safely tucked themselves away in his pants pocket.
Alfred grinned.
'For a second there, I thought you were going to recreate a repeat of last night.' He murmured into his lover's ear.
Arthur scoffed and gave Alfred's bottom lip a good bruise with his teeth. 'As much as I'd love to, we have more important things to worry about. If we were to get sidetracked now, who knows when we would get back to what we're supposed to be doing? Hmph.'
'You're never any fun.' Alfred stuck on his tongue and sucked in his bottom lip, tasting the mark the Englishman had left with fondness. A hint of iron greeted his taste buds. 'You drew blood.'
'I'll do worse if you don't get your thoughts out of your dick.' Arthur warned.
Alfred laughed and lifted a hand in surrender. 'Alright alright, we'll go back to brainstorming, but you should stop touching me while you think then. It's distracting and the reason my thoughts went into my dick in the first place.'
Day 12.
Yes, yes! We came up with a plan that will actually work! It turns out that Arthur has a battery operated toy car that can be controlled wirelessly with a remote. Apparently an old ex of his (who had a young child) left it there and never came to fetch it, and Arthur simply forgot it existed. We checked the closet, found it, tested the batteries and it works perfectly. We've each packed a sack of important stuff and we're getting ready to set it free now.
Arthur says the noise will draw them to the opposite end of the hall and that will give us enough time to make a break for the fire escape before they notice us. He's going to unlock the gate around the door and set it free. Once it's attracted them, I'll go first and he'll follow my lead. We're keeping our fingers crossed that this will go without a hitch. Give us good luck!
'You've g-got to be fucking kidding me…'
'For fuck's sake Alfred, shut up and don't move, I'm going to get you out of here.' Arthur hissed, ignoring the sharp pangs of pain shooting up his left leg as he grappled desperately with a metal beam.
'Don't.' Alfred whispered hoarsely. 'You're better off leaving me here and burying me under the rubble again, so I don't get you. You know there isn't a chance of me gettin' out of here alive Arthur.'
Those were not the words Arthur wanted to hear and he retaliated appropriately. 'Shut the fuck up, you're going to get out of here even if I have to kill a thousand of those damn things to get it done.' His eyes were glazed with clear liquid as his struggling slowly ceased and he hung his head. 'It's my fault this happened to you Jones, I've got to take responsibility for it.'
'Take your own advice and shut up Arthur.' Alfred's dirty hand cupped Arthur's cheek, brittle and weak. 'We couldn't predict this was going to happen, but you can't let it stop you either. Just…stay here with me until I'm gone, then bury me and try to find help. There might be more people still alive out there, alright? Can you do that for me Arthur?'
Arthur looked as if he were about to shatter into a thousand pieces. He matched his gaze with that of his dying boyfriend's…and nodded hesitantly. 'If that's what you want, then I've got no choice.' He touched Alfred's hand at his cheek and sighed.
When he opened his eyes again, the blonde had passed away in silence.
…We failed. Forgive me Alfred, I'm so…so sorry.
Day 12 (part 2.)
. . .The mission failed. I'm not completely sure what went wrong, but I reckon it doesn't matter all the same does it? We were stampeded by thousands of them after I accidentally kicked a discarded can on the floor - stupid, so stupid. We struggled to get to the fire escape by we were ambushed and part of the building that had been ravaged by fire collapsed.
We fell with thousands of bodies and when I regained consciousness, the horror to bestow my eyes was beyond words. I searched for what had to have been at least an hour before I found Alfred's body buried beneath the rubble, and it would have been okay were it not for the metal beam that'd pierced his gut and pinned him to the floor.
There was so much blood. . .so much. I was shocked he was still alive, but he smiled at me and forbid me from freeing him. He was afraid he'd reanimate after he died, so instead he asked me to bury him back under the rubble to make sure he wouldn't come after me.
You don't know how badly I wanted to say no.
But this was his final wish, the one thing he asked me to do, and it was the least I can do for him. I stayed with him until he passed and then rummaged his pockets for the letters he'd been writing before burying him back under the rubble. The envelopes are dirty and some are stained with blood, but they're still readable and damn it Jones, I told you not to talk about our personal affairs.
Heh. . .
It's a miracle I was the only one to survive the fall, all of those things died along with Alfred. Granted, my ankle's sprained and I'm a hundred percent sure I've got a concussion, but I swore I'd keep moving and even if I can hear his angry growls beneath the rubble, I want to keep my promise.
All I have left of you are these letters and the necklace you gave me on our two year anniversary, I'll keep them close as I try to find any other survivors.
You better be in heaven Jones, or I'll never forgive you.
- A
…
Day 32.
I'm so sorry that I couldn't keep my promise to you Alfred, it looks as if I'm ruddy awful at doing that, doesn't it?
I found a small group of people who were still alive, but while we were transferring from one living space to the next, a young boy in our group was attacked. I tried to rescue him and we were both bitten.
His mother pleaded with our leader not to kill him, that there might be a way to save him, but he's already looking much too ill for any scrap of hope.
They've taken him to the back and I've just heard the gun go off. I'll be staring down the same barrel myself in a moment, but strangely enough. . .I'm not afraid.
In fact, I'm perfectly fine with it. I've fought for as long as I could to keep our promise, but there are some things we just can't control. I'm being summoned now, so you'd better be waiting for me over there or I'm going to hunt you down and give you a good wallop to the head for it.
I'll see you soon love, so keep your arms open for me.
- A
