A/N: I don't know if any of you remember me saying something about this in a chapter of Beautiful Thing, but in case you haven't:
This is a Trolls Zombie AU. Yep, you read that right. In honor of Halloween I'm making a zombie apocalypse AU based in the Trolls universe.
There's definitely gonna be a lot of Broppy, with also some Creek and a few cool OCs. This whole story has been planned for months now, but a friend of mine suggested saving it for Halloween, so here I am posting it on October 1st (at least it's the 1st for me; it might not be for someone else because I'm posting this around midnight my time).
This is going to be a lot darker than Beautiful Thing so readers beware of a lot more intense scenes, but it'll be a lot more interesting. Although this is being written for Halloween, knowing my sporadic update schedule and the crazy length of this story I have planned, it'll probably go past October.
Anyway, I'm so excited to finally post this story. I hope you all enjoy! Expect the next update soon!
Chapter 1: Attack
"Shhh." Branch placed his finger over Poppy's lips, gently silencing her. Her mouth shut instantly, for they both knew well the dangers they faced.
Twilight was approaching, but the sun had yet to completely dip beyond the horizon. The trees around them swayed in the gentle spring breeze. The plant life was bright and colorful, but that mattered little to any Troll now, not since the incident. In all truth Branch and Poppy had yet to know where they were going or what they should do. Survival, that was all that mattered now.
Branch's sensitive gray ears twitched as he strained to pick up the familiar but haunting sound of a growl, moan, or limp through the foliage. Next to him his pink companion shifted a foot closer to him. Glancing at her face, Branch saw the smallest tremble in her demeanor. He was about to place a hand on her shoulder when a sudden growl caught his attention.
It came from the right. Without a second thought Branch turned and fired the crossbow grasped tightly in his fingers. The bolt struck the chest of another gray Troll that had just emerged from the undergrowth. It fell with a cry, groaning and twitching in the dirt.
Wincing, Branch forced himself to venture toward the thing. It was gray like him, but its eyes were hazy like a fog clouding its inner mind. Its flesh had taken on a sickly, sunken decayed look. It was a young walker, barely infected with whatever virus they had suddenly encountered just a day or two before.
Bracing himself, Branch fired another bolt, this time into the Troll's head. It buried itself within the zombie and the victim stopped its squirming. Branch fired one more bolt into its head just to be safe, but it was unnecessary. The zombie Troll was gone for good this time. Not dead and reanimated, just dead.
Branch turned his attention from the dead zombie and back to Poppy. She stood a few feet away, her hands shaking around her own crossbow. Her eyes were so wide they looked about to pop out of her sockets.
"You alright?" murmured her companion.
The princess had tears in her eyes. "No," she choked back. "Branch… I know… I know that we've already gone over this, but.. is this really necessary?"
"Yes, Poppy." He looked back at her with a pained expression. Even he, Branch the survivalist, could barely bring himself to kill the walking corpse of someone who had once had thoughts, memories, and feelings. It was a sickening thing to do, but necessary for survival. "They..." He almost choked over his words. "They're not them anymore. They're dead, or at least dead in the sense that there's no hope for them ever going back to normal. Not right now anyways."
"But-" Her sentence was cut short when another snarl met her ears and the body of a zombified llama Troll, its eyes hazy, its hair a gray-black and its four-legged body sunken and showing signs of decay, headed straight for her.
"POPPY!" Branch's scream was strained, his tone cracking in desperation.
Without a thought the princess turned and, a look of horror on her face at the thing running toward her, raised her crossbow. The bolt hit the Troll squarely between the eyes. In one shot she had it down and squirming on the ground.
With a squeak she found herself yanked backward away from the growling corpse. Branch's hand was around her arm. He planted himself between her and the zombie and finished it with a final shot from his own weapon.
A wave of nausea passed through Poppy's stomach and she planted a hand over her mouth. Suddenly weak at the knees, she stumbled over to the nearest tree and leaned against it, willing the contents of her stomach to stay where they were. It was the first time she had ever shot a zombie, and it didn't help that as soon as she had shot the thing she had recognized its face.
Cooper's corpse lay still and lifeless on the ground.
Almost feeling sick himself, Branch wrenched his gaze away and turned to his companion, tone full of worry. "Poppy? Poppy, look at me." Her eyes weakly met his own and Branch scanned her head to toe for any signs of bites or scratches. When he saw she was unharmed, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
With a choked cry she suddenly launched herself at him. The gray Troll caught her and was quick to wrap his own arms around her in some sort of meek comfort. "That was Cooper!" she sobbed into his neck, her tears soaking into his vest.
Branch awkwardly rubbed her back and he pulled her close. "No," he whispered. "That wasn't Cooper. It was a thing that used to be Cooper, but it's not him anymore... If anything we put it out of its misery. Trust me, it's better off this way."
She did not respond, but continued to weep into his shoulder.
A weight settled on Branch's stomach. This was not the Poppy he knew and it pained him to see her this way, yet what other choice did they have? If they didn't kill the undead, then they would die themselves. It was a horrible truth, one Poppy had yet to fully process, but a necessary one. They were on their own out here and it was either kill or be killed.
When her sobs settled into quiet sniffles, Branch pulled back. Looking her in the eyes he said softly, "It's getting late. We need to set up camp."
She sniffled, but gave him a small nod.
Slipping his hand into hers, Branch guided her away from the lifeless walkers and deeper into the surrounding foliage. Her hand was clammy and clung tightly to his own. He squeezed it gently, hoping to give her some sort of comfort. She did not respond, but let herself be guided along as Branch desperately searched for some sort of shelter for the night.
As Branch scanned the trees and Poppy followed his lead, their thoughts drifted back to the day the incident had happened, the day it all started.
Earlier…
"Poppy, are you alright?" Creek noticed her melancholy expression immediately as he trotted out from the undergrowth. In a rare moment she had taken a short walk on her own away from the village and settled herself beneath a shady flower. He made his way over to her, sitting beside her with a curious expression.
It was a beautiful warm day. The sun was shining and the plants were soaking up the sun. Distant sounds of laughing Trolls floated from the village, but the princess had her head held low.
"Not really," she confessed.
"What's wrong?"
She failed to find words.
"Was it your encounter with Branch from earlier?"
"Yeah..."
Creek placed a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, Poppy, you shouldn't take his words so close to heart. Like I said before, some people just don't want to be happy, and Branch is one of them. Don't let him get to you. His opinion of you doesn't matter."
The princess let out a quiet sigh before popping her head up like a spring, a smile lighting up her face. "You're right. I shouldn't be moping around like this. Branch is… he's just a grumpy Troll!"
Creek chuckled. "Exactly, he's just a grumpy Troll." In a swift moment Creek leaned over and planted a short kiss on her cheek. "Boop!" he said with a smile as he got to his feet and sauntered off. When the Troll was out of sight, Poppy furrowed her brows once more, her thoughts flitting to Creek.
Creek was every girl's dream Troll. He was kind, smart, wise, calm, and collected. It was no wonder Poppy had a small crush on him, and their relationship was… something. Nothing official had ever happened between Poppy and Creek, but it was clear there was some sort of attraction between the two. Poppy often found herself thinking dreamily of him, wondering if he felt the same, and it was only a matter of time before something happened between her and Creek, she was sure of it.
And yet her thoughts kept turning back to Branch. He was everything she didn't particularly like: rude, grumpy, reserved. He was handsome for a gray Troll, she would give him that, but a good-looking exterior didn't really mean anything unless said person was good on the inside, too, and so far he had failed to demonstrate anything of the sort.
So why do I still care what he thinks about me? she wondered.
Shoving that thought from her mind, she finally got to her feet and decided to trot back to the village, hoping one of her friends would be around to get her mind off the grumpy gray Troll. They always knew how to cheer her up.
Though her friends happened to pick this opportunity to busy themselves with the party decorations, she at least found her father situated at his desk inside his orange-pink pod and decided to see what he was up to. His bushy brows were narrowed, his aged forehead creased in deep thought. Absentmindedly his fingers drummed against the wooden top.
"Everything ok, Dad?" Poppy inquired. Always so jolly, it was rather unbecoming to see her father with such a frown on his face.
"Oh, hello dear," he murmured. "Yes, everything's alright."
The princess planted a hand on her hip. "Ok, you and I both know that face means something's wrong."
"What face?"
"That frown. You always get it when you're worried about something."
"Oh..." Peppy chuckled. "You're right, Poppy. You know, your mother used to say the same thing whenever she sensed I was upset."
An awkward silence filled the air as Poppy wasn't sure how to respond. She barely remembered her mother, her thoughts of the woman hazy and distant, like trying to look through muddied water to the bottom of a pond. She didn't have any unpleasant memories of Camilla, just a very few moments.
Poppy cleared her throat. "...Well?"
Peppey's finger drumming stopped. "Oh, it's nothing really."
"Come on, Dad. I can tell you're upset about something. Please tell me?" She pouted, putting on her best puppy face.
The king chuckled. He could never say no to her adorable expressions. "Alright," he began. "Well… some of the Trolls have been… disappearing."
Poppy's brows shot up to her hairline. "Disappearing?"
"Yes, Poppy. Mandy hasn't been seen in a week and I'm pretty sure Arabesque hasn't shown his face in the last couple days either. I've had their friends ask around if they've been heard from, but so far not much luck."
Worry flitted across Poppy's face for the briefest moment. This wasn't like anyone she knew aside from Branch, but she quickly shook her head in disbelief. With a nervous laugh and a big smile she poked her father's side. "Oh, Dad, I'm sure they're just out exploring or something! I mean, we do have some very adventurous Trolls in the village. There's Aspen, Karma, Moxie, Scarlet, Rudy... they're all pretty adventurous. Even Branch frequents the forest a lot! It wouldn't surprise me if some of them are just off exploring."
The king let out a slow sigh. "I suppose you're right, Poppy. I do worry too much sometimes."
Wrapping her father in a hug, Poppy smiled and replied, "It'll be ok, Dad. They're fine, I'm sure of it. Now, stop worrying and let's get ready for the party tonight!"
Though Peppy stood up and followed her toward the party preparations, the worry still wouldn't leave his mind.
None of the Trolls who had disappeared were particularly adventurous, but Peppy tried his best to push those thoughts away.
The party was in full swing. From a small cliff overlooking the village, Branch observed the crowd of Trolls dancing with each other, dancing around each other, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Creek was launching glitter into the crowd and at one point even launched Smidge into the air. She had merely grinned and kept on dancing like the tough Troll she was.
The night air was pleasant and would have been quiet if not for the party thundering feet below Branch's perch. He rolled his eyes and was just about to turn and wander off when a sudden flash of movement caught his eye.
It was a strangely discolored figure on the edge of the crowd of Trolls down below. Its body was a curious dull gray like his own, yet its movements were odd. It wasn't dancing like the others in the crowd. It was limping, trudging along as if injured. Its eyes were like the ghostly color of milk, no pupils as far as he could see.
His eyes suddenly widened and Branch dropped the sticks he was holding,
"Ok, everyone, I just want to take a moment and get a little real," Poppy called over the dancing crowd. A hush rang through them as tthey eagerly awaited the speech of the princess herself.
"I would like to take this moment to celebrate our king." Poppy and the king exchanged a heartwarming smile. "My father, who on this very day twenty years ago saved us from those dreaded-"
Someone screamed. Whipping to look into the crowd, Poppy and her father spotted a few gray figures were amongst the Trolls, pacing and sprinting about. About the size of a Troll, the things growled and moaned like animals. Like a Troll they had hair, but it was a deathly gray, some even black. Their mouths hung open, arms outstretched and reaching toward the crowd. A look of horror dawned on everyone's faces when one of the figures suddenly dove foreward and sank its teeth into a female Troll.
More screams joined others. The crowd turned to panic. These gray things were suddenly attacking everything and everyone in sight, biting and clawing at her friends. Poppy's mouth dropped open as all those on the ground scattered in a vain attempt to escape the creatures.
A flurry of black hair suddenly latched onto the edge of the stage and hoisted a gray body onto the stage. It was a Troll, but not like any Troll she had ever seen. Its eyes were milky and murderous, like glue covering its pupils, and its skin had a sunken, gaunt look to it. The creature went straight for Poppy, mouth wide open and hands outstretched to grab her with its pale fingers.
Screaming, Poppy stumbled backward in an attempt to put distance between her and this thing that looked like one she would call a friend.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Peppy was suddenly between her and the creature. The old man whacked the thing's face with his cane. It howled and lunged toward the king's makeshift weapon, yanking it out of his hands and snapping it like a twig. Peppy stumbled backward from the lack of support and it was only a matter of milliseconds when the creature found his arm and chomped down.
"DAD!" Poppy screamed, her voice cracking.
Something whizzed through the air and struck the creature in its side. It let out a bloodcurdling scream as the projectile sent it hurdling sideways . Chills traveled down Poppy's spine, but she ignored them and knelt down to cradle her injured father.
Peppy's breath was weak and faint. "Poppy," he wheezed. "I… I don't think… I..."
"No, don't you dare say anything like that!" yelled his daughter, touching her hand against his cheek. "Dad, you're going to be ok! It's alright, we'll figure this out!"
"POPPY, GET AWAY FROM HIM!" A new voice rang in her ears. Branch was at her side, yanking her back.
"LET ME GO!" she screamed, fighting against his strong grip.
He refused to release her arm. "Poppy, listen to me!" he cried in desperation. "We need to get out of here. It's too dangerous!"
"No!"
"Look around, Poppy. Something very bad is happening right now, but if we stay here we're only going to become victims ourselves!"
Poppy turned to stare at her father. He was lying on his back, curled in pain around his wounded hand. Suddenly his colors began to fade, like some twisted sickness invading his body. His eyes glossed over and his body took on the same gaunt look the other creatures had. He sat up and began to make his way toward his daughter, mouth open and head lolled to the side with fingers outstretched just like the other creatures.
The princess let out a scream and Branch, wincing in pain, pulled her away from the thing that once was Peppy.
Poppy found herself being yanked unceremoniously by Branch away from the desperate crowd and into the undergrowth of the surrounding trees. "Where are we going?" she demanded.
"To my bunker!" he yelled back. "It's the safest place to be!"
But luck was not on their side as the two found a group of familiar gray moaning creatures pacing around the "GO AWAY" mat marking the entrance to the bunker. Sensing two uninfected souls nearby, the ghastly gray Trolls advanced upon the two, mouths smacking together eagerly. Poppy shuddered. They were like savage animals advancing upon prey, monsters with nothing but a mind to kill and eat.
With a flick of his arm Branch had a crossbolt imbedded into the nearest creature's head. It toppled forward, letting out the most unearthly moan Poppy had never heard before in her life. She shuddered a second time, nausea roiling in her gut.
More creatures appeared from the foliage. "Change of plans!" Branch said, taking Poppy's hand.
"What change of plans?"
"This change of plan!" With a squeak Poppy was yanked again away from the creatures and into more trees.
"RUN!" Branch screamed at her as he took her hand and pulled her along.
Poppy frowned. They were headed away from his bunker now, not toward it, but she barely had time to process that thought as Branch encouraged her along.
Confused as hair but too frightened to think logically, together they booked it into the trees, away from Branch's bunker, and out of the territory of Troll Village. Poppy sneaked a look at her companion. His features was hard and steeled, nothing but determination in his face.
She glanced back toward the village, but it hardly mattered now. All she saw were trees and foliage with the distant echoes of screaming Trolls ringing in her ears. The lights of the party were still gleaming in the distance.
