/A/N/

Just so you know, there's going to be quite a bit of gore in this story. I apologize in advance.


Cold. Darkness. It was the middle of the night, but Berwald was restless. Tino. Peter. He had to find them. The suffering moans and groans of the undead filled the air as Berwald ran down the halls of the hold house, clinging to his shotgun like it was his last hope. And it was. This shotgun had protected him through everything, and Berwald would be damned if he let it go.

The blue walls that coated the hall were covered in splattered blood- evidence of past battles with the living dead. This was a disgusting way to live. A disgusting way to survive. But he had no choice. He had to protect his family.

The Swede checked every room that he ran by. Nothing. No sign of the two that meant the most to him in this world. He called out, Tino's and Peter's names crossing his lips in a gruff, exhausted voice. There was no use trying to be quiet. He'd already been spotted. They all had.

No answer from his family. Berwald was growing impatient. Worried. All that was left to check was upstairs. But that left them open for the dead to attack. They would have no he had no choice. If they weren't up there, Berwald didn't know what he would do.

He began to ascend the stairs, coming to an abrupt halt. Tino. At the top. Panting as he stared down at Berwald, a shaking Peter in his arms.

"Tino, I-" Berwald sounded angry. Furious. How could his boyfriend not answer his worried calls?

"Not now, Berwald! We have to go!" He said. Zombies. Following the Swede. Almost able to reach him.

Without a moment's hesitation, Berwald took the butt of his gun to one's face, successfully smashing it's nose. The dead creature stopped moving. Hopefully the bone lodged itself in the brain. But there was no time to think.

Long steps taking multiple steps at a time took the tall man up the stairs and to his family. A quick embrace. A kiss to Tino's forehead before their hands connected.

Berwald was tugged- almost dragged down the hall to what seemed to be the master bedroom. He slammed the door closed behind them, locking it. It was sure to not make much of a difference, but any sort of barricade was better.

Tino moved to a window before placing their son down. Berwald could see it from the corner of his eye as he did his best to push a heavy dresser in front of the door. Then he heard the Finn's voice. It was soft. It was sweet. But there was a scared undertone. Tino was terrified, but he was hiding it as best as he could from his son.

"It's okay, Peter. You have to be brave." He said. He was smiling softly, rubbing the tears from the small boy's face.

"How am I supposed to be brave, mum?! We're never getting out of here!" He said, a small hiccup coming from his throat as he rubbed his eyes, forcing Tino's hand away. "I'm scared! I'm scared…"

Tino frowned, a hurt look on his face as he glanced to his boyfriend. Berwald watched as Tino swallowed hard. "It's okay, Peter. Mum and I will get you out of here…" The Swede said with a soft sigh. And he meant it. He would protect his family with his life.

Tino stood up straight. His hand was on Peter's shoulder as he turned to Berwald. Those sweet, innocent, violet eyes pierced Berwald's core. And now, he wanted nothing more than to protect those two people across the room from himself. Those two people that meant nothing short of the world to him.

He reached out, fingers extending to the two males before they fell to his side again at the sound of a pounding on the door. They were there. The scratching. The groaning… The undead.

Berwald, in a state of utter shock, had looked to the door. Peter had begun crying again, his wails carrying throughout the room.

This is too much work for a fucking meal. Come on, Berwald!" In an instant Tino was opening the window at the front of the house. A roof that hung over the porch stood there, and Berwald swore they were the luckiest people in the world. The Finn climbed through the open window as Berwald scooped his beloved son up and into his arms.

The small, innocent child in his arms didn't deserve any of this. He was young. He was sweet. Peter deserved all of the happiness in the world, but… Happiness no longer seemed to exist.

"It's okay, Peter. We'll be safe. All of us. I promise." He said as he rubbed the top of his son's head gently. But then a crack. The moans were louder. Without thinking, Berwald shoved the boy in his hands out of the window and into Tino's awaiting arms. Taking one last glance at the door behind him, he could see their faces. Their pale, lifeless eyes. They thirsted for flesh of their own kind- the still living members of their own kind. Their arms reached through the hole they created in the wood, and upon seeing Berwald looking back towards them, their grunts and screams became louder.

Berwald was confronted with the thought of how the hell he could keep his promise to Peter.


/A/N/

Hello! It's me again with a new story! But this time it's something completely different.

I've been a huge fan of zombies for many years now. And it's about time I wrote a story about it. And what better than writing it from the point of view of our favorite Swede?

Also, the prologue is exactly 900 words and for some reason I pride myself in that. And this is labeled as 'The End Prologue' here on FF and it just seems so hypocritical.

I own none of the characters in this story. I own only the alternate universe itself. This was written for fun and not for profit.