A/N: Okay, so! Here is my first published Glee Fanfiction! It will heavily include zombie carnage and St. Berry, so if you like either one of those things, you've come to the right place! Or if you like them both, which in that case, even better! Enjoy! (:


If it weren't for the fact that Jesse St. James' life was undoubtedly approaching a very brutal end, he would be furious over his turn of luck (or lack thereof). First he flunks out of college, then he bends over backwards to win Rachel back only to have her jump back into Finn's arms without giving him so much as a second thought, and now he was dirt fucking broke because his parents cut him off and he had spent all of his money on hopping all over the country (for Rachel, might he add). After the little stint at Nationals, Jesse fully planned on staying with his uncle for a few months until he earned a legitimate amount of money, after which he would book it to New York like a bat out of hell. But, knowing him and his luck lately, even that would have undoubtedly fallen through and bitten him in the ass. Just like everything else in his pathetic excuse for a life. Not that he's bitter, or anything.

But as Jesse was crouched in his bathroom, clutching onto a metal bat as his crude weapon choice, all he could think about was how, if he dared to step out of the bathroom, he would undoubtedly be killed. All his financial and Rachel issues seemed like but a minor inconvience right now, and Jesse found that he was actually yearning for the time when those were his biggest problems. Jesse would gladly take all those stupid, petty problems over the crisis he was currently in. Anything was better than this.

A low, carnal growling sound at the bathroom door sent Jesse's blood running icy cold in his veins. He swallowed as silently as he could manage, his grip tightening on the bat as his heart thudded at a deafining volume in his ears. While Jesse knew very well how to defend himself, to still know that the person (if you could even call them something like that - something so disgustingly simple) could so easily take his life and destroy it without so much as a seconds thought...Well, it was a bit unnerving, to put it lightly.

Jesse tried to keep his hands from shaking as he slowly rose to his feet, trying to keep his footfalls as silent as possible as he tiptoed over to the bathroom door. Jesse heaved one last sigh, channeling all of his anger and frustrations from the past couple of weeks to help to cancel out his gnawing fear as he slowly approached the door. He carefully opened the door...

And swung the bat with every ounce of strength he had in him.


Rachel Berry knew that something was wrong the second she woke up.

The main reason being that she woke up of her own accord, rather than using the assistance of her iHome like always. Rachel typically woke up to Ain't Gonna Break My Stride blaring from her iHome speakers, and she had done as such for as long as she could remember. She would even bring her iPod and speakers to friends houses and on overnight trips, in order to ensure that she stick to the same morning wakeup routine no matter where she was.

So when she opened her eyes to complete and utter silence, the cold twisting sensation in her gut told Rachel that something was all wrong. There was nothing at all. No birds chirping, no cars going by, no sounds of her fathers cooking downstairs while singing along to some showtunes. Nothing. Just total, dead silence.

Deciding that she should probably get up and get behind this creepy silence (as spooky as it was, there was probably a perfectly logical explanation for it...hopefully), Rachel carefully sat up and pushed her comforter aside, slowly lowering her bare feet down to the floor. She quietly padded over to her door, her stomach in knots as she slowly opened the door and peeked out into the hallway. "Dad? Daddy?" Rachel called out, chewing her lip as she awaited a response. Rachel's stomach dropped as she recieved complete silence - just as she had when she first woke up.

No matter. They could still be sleeping, right? They did have a long weekend with work, so it would only be natural for them to sleep in. Right?

Even so, the fear in Rachel's gut wouldn't go away, and she was sure that it wouldn't until she saw her fathers, alive and whole. So pushing aside her fears, Rachel took a deep breath and walked outside of her room and into the long hallway.

Rachel's bunny slipper-clad feet made soft padding noises as she quietly walked down the hallway, her hands clutching a worn-out stuffed lamb she had had since she was a child while she anxiously listened for any form of life in her spacious home. As Rachel approached the stairwell that led downstairs into the living room, she carefully peeked around the corner, and decided to chance on calling out again, "Dad? Daddy?"

A beat of silence. And then.

"Rachel, run! Now!"

Rachel could have sworn she felt her heart stop right in her chest. The voice undoubtedly belonged to her daddy, Hiram. Her daddy was typically an extremely calm and level-headed individual; never allowing himself to get too panicked or worked up, even during extreme situations. So the fact that her daddy sounded absolutely, downright terrified made icy panic contort in her stomach. What was going on that caused her daddy to sound so scared?

Even though her brain was screaming for her to obey her daddy's orders, she couldn't shake off the instinct that was telling her that she needed to go find out what exactly was the source of her normally zen father's panic. She sprinted down the stairs, her grip on the railing slick from how heavily her palms were now sweating, and then ran into the living room once her feet hit the wooden floors.

Rachel felt her stomach drop to her feet at the sight that greeted her. There was her daddy Hiram, gripping onto her bloodied-up dad, Leroy; whom was snarling and taking swipes at her daddy. She could faintly process that her daddy was screaming for her to run, but all that Rachel could really concentrate on was the fact that her dad's lips (among many other places) were covered with blood and how there was what looked to be human flesh dangling from between his teeth. She gripped onto the wall with both hands, her sweaty hands slipping against the surface as she took in several shaky breaths; the feeling of intense nausea slowly creeping up on her and settling upon her like a heavy fog.

"Rachel, I said go! Now!" Hiram yelled, pushing his husband over so he was now on his stomach and sitting on his back to prevent him from moving and attacking their daughter. "It's okay, baby. Your dad is going to be fine, but you need to trust me when I say that you need to leave right now. Go to one of your friends houses for now, and I'll call you when things are better." Hiram spoke frantically, trying his best to sound soothing and reassuring, though he was failing desperately - Rachel most definitely was not reassured.

"B-But..." Rachel stammered, gulping several swallows of air before continuing. "Daddy, what's going on? What on earth is wrong with dad?" She finished with a cry, blinking back the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"He's got a fever, honey. I think he's got the flu that's been going around. Just don't worry about it. Go!" He barked as he struggled to keep his husband down on the ground, making Rachel flinch. Her daddy never raised his voice to her (though she never really gave him a reason to) which told her that this situation was far worse than he was trying to put it.

Rachel shook her head furiously, gripping her hands tight into fists against her thighs to try and keep them from shaking. "I can't just leave you here by yourself, daddy. I-If it's nothing to worry about, then I can stay-"

"Rachel Barbra Berry, get out of this house now! Do not make me tell you again!" Hiram's yelled, making Rachel recoil and press her palms over her her ears as tears freely streamed down her face. He took a deep breath, then spoke in a much calmer voice than before, "Baby, please. Just listen to me and go, okay? Y-You have nothing to worry about, but I just want to...Make sure that you don't get sick too, okay? Just trust me, sweetheart. Go, okay? Please?"

Rachel felt the beginnings of a sob tightening in her throat as she hesitated before nodding slowly. She still wanted so badly to stay with her daddy, but she knew that there was no way he would allow that. She still wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but she knew that the best idea was for her to listen to her daddy. He was still the adult, which meant that he knew better what she should do in this little scenario - whatever it may be.

"I love you, daddy." Rachel wasn't entirely why, but she felt as though her daddy needed to know. A small part of her subconscious mind knew that it was probably because she knew that this might be the last time she saw her father, and the last time she would get to tell him that she loved him. But Rachel refused to admit that to herself.

"I love you too, baby. Now go. I'll see you soon, okay? Be safe." Rachel nodded, her throat thick and her tears searing hot tracks as they dripped down her cheeks. Rachel spared one last look at her daddy, whom had went back to struggling with her dad and trying to calm him down, before she grabbed her keys and ran out the door.