[ i n c e p t u m . f i n i s ]

~ o ~

"Hey." Ventus turned his head to find his younger brother climbing through the trap door they had built into the roof. He had two blankets hanging over his shoulders, a rifle strapped to a harness across his torso, and a plate of microwaved burritos in one hand. He crawled onto the roof and made his way to Ventus, who was sitting cross-legged next to a propane lamp - the very same kind they would use for camping whenever their parents had the time.

"I brought dinner."

"I can see that. Chicken and cheese?" The younger Gracy boy replied with a 'yup' as he plopped down beside his twin. Roxas handed Ventus one of the blankets he brought and they both immediately wrapped themselves in warmth. A cold wind blew down their street and washed over them, making them curl into themselves and shiver. Ventus looked out toward the horizon, where a distant sun was surely setting; the clouds above them had gradually been turning from a depressing gray to a pretty array of oranges and pinks and purples - it was rather inappropriate for God to make the heavens beautiful while Hell was on Earth.

"Y'know, winter's coming. Pretty soon we won't be able to be up here keeping a look-out." Ventus pulled his blanket tightly over his body. Roxas nodded and hugged his knees to his chest.

"...Do you think there are others like us still out there?" Roxas asked, almost in a whisper. Ventus reached over and grabbed a burrito.

"There has to be. I mean, look at us. We don't know jack shit about surviving on our own, and we're still here." He took a bite. "Degr 'az doo bgee 'UHMGUDY elfdse, raighd?"

Roxas picked up the other burrito and just held it in front of him. "Yeah, I guess you have a point, Ven." His older brother gulped down the chewed bits of chicken, cheese, and tortilla.

"Of course I do, Roxas. When have I ever been wrong?" He paused. "I mean, about this?"

Roxas bowed his head slightly with a murmured, "Never."

And he hadn't been wrong about anything that happened so far; not about the importance of staying together, not about doing whatever it took to survive, finding shelter, guns, food, ways to evade the undead, or whatever it was about them. Ventus was right about everything.

Actually, without him, Roxas didn't know how he would've survived for so long.

Forty-three days.

It had been that long since Chicago, Illinois, first fell to an unknown disease.

[ t h e . s e v e n t h . d a y ]

"Roxas! Wake up!" The boy was startled awake by a harsh whisper. His eyelids fluttered open and, for the first few seconds of being semi-conscious, he mumbled incoherently. When the haze of sleep left his vision, he found Ventus staring down at him with a bright light illuminating from the back of his head. He shifted a little to get more comfortable before he remembered that he had slept in the backseat of a car. "We gotta keep moving. It's morning so we have to make the most of what light we have if we're going to find a better place to hide."

"Mmmph...Wait, won't there be more out there?" Roxas sat up in a panic, still a bit disoriented from a long night and little sleep. Ventus placed a hand on his shoulder and hushed him.

"I don't see any and it's really quiet outside - you know how loud they can get. But we can't let our guard down, not until we find food and water and shelter. Okay?" The boys made eye contact. Their skin was soiled with dirt and ash and blood - none of it was theirs - their hair was a mess and bits of debris were tangled in their windswept locks, faces thinned from the past week of eating almost nothing, dark circles underneath their eyes. They might as well have been zombies; they certainly looked the part.

"...Okay." Roxas nodded, a bit more focused now. He twisted his body a bit and bent down to retrieve the small shovel he had dropped at some point in his restless slumber. The blood at the pointed tip had dried overnight and was beginning to flake off.

Ventus unlocked the driver's door and tried to open it only to find that something was blocking it. Frustrated, he leaned back and kicked the door in an attempt to open it. It took a minute, but eventually he managed to force the obstacle aside far enough for them to squeeze through the open car door. Roxas wedged his way out, almost blinded from the sunlight he had grown used to being absent. The other side of the car was smashed into a street lamp, making exit from that side of the car impossible.

Once his eyes were used to the sunlight, Roxas scanned the area around them. The smell of gasoline and smoke and drying blood filled his nostrils, a cool breeze whistled around the buildings, and the streets were empty and in ruin. Cars were crashed into each other, into buildings, into bodies...

And it was silent.

"Roxas." The boy's attention turned, from a corpse laying outside of their overnight shelter he hadn't realized he was staring at, to his brother, who was about ten feet ahead of him.

"C'mon, we gotta go."

The younger Gracy took one last look at the body slumped against the side of the car before dragging his feet toward Ventus. His eyes took in the sight of the previous week's chaos. Limbs were thrown left and right, hands, feet, legs, somewhere under a crashed car there was what looked like a head. Blood painted the asphalt, coating the soles of the boys' shoes in red when they stepped in puddles of it. Every time Roxas' hand slipped and he dropped his shovel, or whenever Ventus smashed the window to a car - in the slightest chance that someone was inside, just hiding and scared like the boys were - the noise echoed throughout the empty street. They wandered down the street, hand in hand, in search of a place that was still standing, that had any sign of life, that offered them food, water, protection - anything that would've helped raise their spirits.

Reality began to set in when, perhaps due to dehydration, a raging fever, or desperation, Ventus was driven to risking their lives by shouting and calling out for anybody that could've been in the area.

"Hello! Is anybody there!" Roxas leaned back against a street light pole, watching his brother pace around the area in an attempt to draw the attention of any other survivors. He sighed heavily, knowing that Ventus was just grasping at straws, wanting to deny something that he himself had already accepted.

A burning pain stung his right hand.

"Hello!"

He dropped his shovel and looked down at his palm. It was covered in blisters and splinters from the handle of the shovel, from holding it for so long, from swinging it around and using it as a weapon to protect himself from others who, for whatever reason he didn't quite understand, wanted to kill him.

"We're not infected! We can help!"

'Infected...Was that what those people were?' The younger boy blinked as he stared at his wounded hand, feeling his body begin to shut down.

"HELLO!"

Roxas slowly began to sink to the concrete, his legs giving out beneath him. His feet were sore, his legs were sore, his arms and shoulders were sore. Even his eyelids were sore, hardly sleeping at all during the week. They were on the move when possible during the day, and they were hiding at night. They were only able to sleep once they were sure they couldn't be reached by others. Even then, when he had managed to fall asleep despite the screams and gunshots outside, nightmares kept him awake. Those once familiar eyes, pale and wide, blank, lifeless...they were there when he slept. Bloody hands were reaching for him, teeth gnashing, feet staggering in his direction. And then, all too suddenly, their skull was burst open and bits of brain, bone and teeth exploded everywhere.

He understood that he would probably never be able to get rid of that haunting memory.

"Please..." Ventus fell to his knees and dropped his bat, his voice hoarse and cracking with tears, dying in defeat. "Someone, anyone, help us..."

Roxas looked up at his brother, sane enough to feel heartbreak, but too weak to care. Nobody was coming to help them. There wasn't anybody left who could, he already knew this. But, seeing his brother - who always looked at the brighter side of things, always held onto that last little bit of hope that they could be saved, always knew what exactly to do - finally be broken like this...It was as if what he merely believed as a big possibility suddenly became an absolute truth.

"Ven," He forced himself onto his feet and stumbled to his twin's side. "You're losing it. Here, you need water."

His backpack slid off his shoulders and down his arms, plopping onto the ground with a low thud. The younger Gracy knelt beside the elder and dug through his backpack until he found their last plastic bottle of water. With a twist of the cap, he handed it to Ventus. The blond had only begun to take a sip when he began to cough harshly, choking on whatever water that went down the wrong tube, wheezing heavily and sucking in air past his chapped lips.

"Ven!" Roxas began to panic, immediately thinking the worst at his brother's hacking. They had seen plenty of times that whenever someone was bitten by...what were they? Ventus called them 'infected', but were they really just sick? Was Ventus sick? They knew well enough that people who were bitten became 'sick', too, but what about airborne illness?

'No! Please! Please don't die now! Don't become one of them!'

"I'm fine, Roxas," Ventus managed to gasp out. "I'm just...thirsty."

As if to prove his point, he tried a second time to take in some water, finally managing to get some down his throat. He took only two or three gulps, wanting to save the last of their water for as long as they could. Feeling a bit better, he cleared his throat. "Where in the hell are we, anyway?"

Roxas looked around them, using the scenery as a way to identify their location. However, with everything in ruin, it was difficult to tell exactly what street they were on. About ten meters away, there was the intersection with the street names hanging below the traffic lights. He assured his brother that he would be back in a moment and pushed himself up onto his feet, making his way to the signs. One of the stoplights was blinking, maybe due to a wire being disconnected when a baby-blue Beetle crashed into it. Whoever was inside didn't make it out - their arm was dangling out of the broken window on the driver's side. Roxas had to look away and focus on looking up at the signs.

'Don't look at the bodies...Don't look at the bodies...' When the boy reached the middle of the intersection, his head turned to his left.

"East Chestnut Street," He murmured to himself. His gaze traveled to the sign dangling above him. "North Wabash Avenue."

He took a couple steps backward before turning and walking back to his brother. "We're on East Chestnut and North Wabash. We started at East Chicago, which means -"

"We only managed to go about a mile since we started," Ventus looked up at Roxas in disbelief and horror and slowly fell into panic. "It took us a week. We only went into a fucking circle. There were so many of them - Oh my God, Roxas, are we going to die?"

"No!" Roxas grabbed his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. "No, we are not going to die, Ven!"

His older brother shook in his grasp, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. Both boys inhaled and exhaled heavily, trying to maintain the composure they knew they were losing. Everything was quiet except for their breathing. Roxas gulped once before continuing in a softer tone, "We're not going to die. We're going to...going to live. We're going to find somewhere we can be safe, and there'll be food and water, and others like us. We won't be alone, Ven. We'll find them, okay? Please, keep going."

After a moment of silence between them, Ventus nodded shakily, reassured by his brother's words.

"Okay." Roxas also nodded, glad that his twin had calmed down a bit. "Now, it's-" he paused to look up at the sky, "about noon, I think. The sun's pretty high, which means we only have about six hours before they come out." He stood and extended his hand to his twin. Ventus took it and rose to his feet, leaning against Roxas for support.

"Heh...It's the end of the world, there're zombies running around, and I'm sick. I think my life is FML-worthy," Ventus chuckled weakly. Roxas couldn't help but smile at his brother's joke, knowing exactly how true it was. He swept one arm around Ventus' torso, and put his arm over his shoulder. "I'm ready to go when you are, bro."

"All right." He was about to lead the way, but he only got to a foot away before realization came to him. "Should we leave our bag there? Or do you think we should take it with us?"

"There's nothing left we can use in there, is there?" He looked back and examined the backpack. The left shoulder strap was almost completely torn and the zippers were long gone.

"No, and it's falling apart, anyway." Ventus nodded once, slowly, understanding what this meant. They were down to literally nothing but each other and the clothes on their backs. If they didn't find shelter by night fall, that was it. They would have no chance of seeing the next morning's sunrise.

The two brothers trudged on anyway. Ventus nearly fell into unconsciousness on multiple occasions against Roxas' body, his fever taking its toll on his system. When he was sure Ventus wasn't listening, Roxas murmured a silent prayer to God Almighty that they would find shelter soon - not even to protect them from what would come that evening, but for Ventus' well-being.

Hello, God, oh Lord. My name is Roxas Gracy, but You probably already knew that. I'm not sure what exactly is going on, or whether or not it's something You made happen, but I am not going to question You or Your reasoning. I know I'm not usually a praying man, but I come before You now to ask for Your blessing. I place myself and my brother in Your hands and I trust that You will provide guidance and lead us to a place of safety. You have our complete faith and I pray that You will protect us and guide us through this. Please, put a hand of healing over my brother. He's suffered enough and he can't go on for much longer. I don't want to lose him, Lord. He's all that I have left in this world. So, please, please protect him.

In Jesus' name, I pray.

Amen.

[ t h e . f o r t y - t h i r d . n i g h t ]

"How long do you think this is gonna go on for?" Roxas inquired, lying on his back with his hands folded behind his head. The clouds had broken up, giving the boys their first glimpse of the night sky in four days. Ventus, still upright, was flicking the lid of a silver lighter open and shut in nervous habit. Engraved on the side were the initials R.M.

"I dunno. I'm not sure if it'll ever stop." Roxas hummed lowly, a bit disappointed with his answer. He expected a more thought-out response, but it sounded like Ventus was unsure. The older Gracy stopped playing with the lighter and leaned back a little, supporting his weight with his hands. "But, if it does, then I guess they either starve, or we kill them all."

A loud clang! rang from in front of the house.

"The fuck?" Ventus sprang up from his slouching position, startled. Roxas crawled a couple of feet towards the edge of the roof to investigate.

"What is it?"

Roxas didn't respond. 'This - What the hell...'

"What is it, Roxas?"

"It's one of them, Ven."

"The hell!" Ventus scrambled to Roxas' side in disbelief. "What the hell's it doing here?"

"It probably heard us talking."

"Well, do you think it might have been attracted by the bodies from earlier, too?"

"I doubt it." Roxas pulled the rifle up a little as he began to move. "There'd be more if that were the case. Plus, the sick bastards ate all of them. There's nothing left but bones."

"Roxas, what are you doing?" Ventus raised his eyebrows as his brother shifted onto his stomach, propping the rifle's scope up to his eye.

"I'm checking to see what might have brought it here."

Through the scope, Roxas found the creature at the iron gate. It crashed its body into the metal two - no, three - more times, each releasing a clang! that ran throughout the empty city. It was a woman - maybe nineteen, twenty at the latest, with dark brown hair, fair skin, a tint of freckles on her face. Her mouth was agape and stained with dried blood, a large wound on the crook of her neck. Her arms were extended above her head and through the gate's bars, fingers wiggling and jerking. It almost looked as though she were -

"-Reaching for something."

"''Scuse me?"

"She's looking for something." Roxas spoke softly, mostly to himself, as he pulled his head away from the scope. Ventus huddled a little closer to him.

"What do you think it is? Neither of us are bleeding and I don't think -"

"She's not drawn by blood. Look." Roxas pulled the holster over his head handed his rifle to his brother who brought the scope up to his own eye. A look of confusion swept over his face. "Do you think she can see us?"

"No, it's blind. The eyes aren't moving at all. They're dead - same as before." The older brother shifted a bit to hold the rifle in a more comfortable position. "Doesn't look like it knows exactly where we are. See? It's just wandering around the fence like it's trying to find something. If anything," he returned the rifle to his little brother, "it knows we're somewhere nearby. Not sure how, but it's definitely aware of our presence."

"I see," Roxas' voice trailed off as he took a second look at her through the scope. "Do you think it's possible she hasn't completely turned yet?"

Silence.

Roxas turned his head to look at his brother, curious as to why he didn't receive an answer. He did get an answer - it just wasn't a verbal one. Ventus stared at him, annoyed. "What?"

"Why do you do that?" Roxas sat up.

"Do what, Ven?"

"Talk about them like they're still human. Why do you call it a 'she', or, earlier, when you were talking to those things that used to be Ginny and Bob? They're not the Ginny and Bob we know anymore, Roxas, so why do you act like they are?"

Roxas blinked and turned away, seemingly in thought. He shook his head after a moment. "I dunno. Just not completely used to this yet, I guess."

'That's a lie.'

"Well, get used to it." Ventus twisted his body and laid himself down onto his back, staring up at whatever stars were peeking past the clouds. "You can't keep holding on to the past anymore. It'll get you killed - it almost did, Roxas."

'I know.'

Roxas stared down solemnly at the other blonde. It bothered him how easily they could talk about things like this, like it was no big deal, like it never had been and like it never would be. "Have we really changed this much?" Ventus looked up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Roxas laid beside him, "it's almost like we're not the people we used to be anymore, either. A month ago, I wouldn't have even dreamed of killing anybody just to keep living. But now, I do it every day. People I knew, people I loved, people I hated - they're all dead now. And-" He sighed. "-it's because I killed them."

A pair of arms wrapped around his lithe frame, pulling him closer against another body identical to his own.

"It's not your fault. You did what you had to - we both did," Ventus spoke softly, understanding perfectly why his brother was so bothered. "But we're still us. We get scared when we see what they do to each other, and we remember the people we come across that we have to kill. We say a prayer every night and every morning, and we believe that there will be an end to this. We have a reason to keep going. That's why I have to disagree with you. We are still ourselves; we've just had to learn how to survive in this new world."

A long silence between them followed, and at first, Ventus thought Roxas had simply fallen asleep in his arms. He could hear the soft breathing of the boy next to him, the scattered wheezes of those things - he still didn't know what to properly call them - and the occasional clang! of that thing Roxas kept calling a "she" running into the gate. Not even crickets were chirping.

Their world really was dead.

"I miss Mom and Dad," Roxas whispered, not opening his eyes. Ventus glanced up at him before curling into his body, holding him closer in a protective manner.

"I do, too, Roxas." The younger boy chuckled weakly. "Hm?"

"Nothing. Just, that lamp." His head tilted up to the propane lamp illuminating the roof for them. "It reminds me of when we went camping at Scratching River. We were convinced Dad was certifiably insane for wanting to go to Canada for camping and in the middle of fall. Heh, it was cold as hell."

They were only fourteen years of age. Their father, a police man, had some time off and decided to spend it with family bonding. They loaded up into their truck and drove God knew how many hours up to Morris. They set up two tents - one for the parents and one for the twins - roasted marshmallows and made s'mores. They were all laughing and having a good time, despite the boys' initial but brief protests.

"Oh, yeah. I remember that."

"We stayed up late at night because we wanted to see a moose. We were hoping it'd be like that one time we went to the Grand Canyon and a herd of deer wandered into our campsite. But, no moose. We were so bummed out, I think we actually argued with them about not leaving until we saw a god damned moose."

"And when we went fishing? You caught a really big one and almost got dragged into the water. But Dad and I caught you before you could, and Mom was so proud of you." Ventus began to remember this particular event, too. Roxas' cheerful, beaming face was clear in his mind.

Their parents' faces, however, were gone.

"I was pretty damn proud myself, until we pulled my catch out of the water."

"It was a big-"

"-black-"

"-boot," they finished in unison. After one brief glance at each other, the boys began to laugh lightly. It was only a few years ago, but it felt like it had been an eternity. They knew events like that would never happen again, but memories were nice to have when there was nothing left to hold onto. They knew they couldn't hold onto old feelings when coming across someone they knew who had fallen to this pandemic, but that didn't mean they couldn't get lost in the good times while they were safe. It gave them a sort of peace of mind, let them forget about what was waiting for them just outside that gate and just get high off the feelings of the happiness and security they once knew.

Eventually, the laughter died as they were brought back to reality.

"I wish they were here." Roxas stared up at the night sky, not really focusing on anything in particular. Ventus buried his face into the side of his brother's neck.

"I wish they were here too, Roxas. But we both know they're never coming back. We'll never see them again."

"I know. Still have to try and remember them, though, right? I don't want to forget them, Ven, and neither do you." Roxas inhaled slowly and exhaled in the same manner, a bit calmer now than he was earlier. Ventus glanced up at his brother, wanting to say something. But, he decided against saying it at the last minute, and instead he only further curled into the only friend he had left.

"I think...what scared me the most was when we left home and we saw, for the first time, how broken everything had become." Roxas turned to his side and looked head-on to his brother, wrapping his own arms around Ventus when he felt him shiver. "When were you scared the most?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I want to know what you were thinking, what you were going through when you pulled me along and made us survive. I'll be honest, I don't think I'd be alive right now if you weren't there to tell me what to do." Roxas pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyelids.

"That should be easy, Roxas." Ventus dragged Roxas' discarded blanket over their bodies to shield them from a chilled breeze sweeping over them. "It was that first night, when everything happened. That's when I was scared the most."

"Was it Dad?"

"No."

"Weren't you scared when you saw all that blood?"

"You kidding? I was scared shitless." The older blonde ran his fingers through his brother's locks.

"Then, was it seeing Mom?"

"Not exactly." Roxas tilted his head, confused. Ventus looked down at him and sighed.

"It was when she tried to eat you."

[ t h e . b e g i n n i n g . o f . t h e . e n d ]

Author's Note:

Ta-da~! I present to you all chapter one of the newest addition to my work. "Solus" is Latin for "Alone". At this point in time, the twins don't know what to call these things. They've referred to them as "sharks" in the prologue for their keen sense of smell and attraction to blood, which is very much like a shark's. They're not sure if they're like the traditional zombies in the sense that they're reanimated corpses, or if they're just really, really sick people. Seeing as how none of the people that have died from them have returned to life, they're starting to suspect that they might be something entirely different. For now, though, to get the point that they're eating people across, they occasionally call them "zombies".

I'm so sorry for those who want Kimi to be updated! I'm still working on that! ; A ;

Also, my zombies are not like others. They can't see and they're ultra-sensitive to bright light DUE TO PLOT REASONS THAT SHALL BE FURTHER EXPLORED IN A FUTURE CHAPTER. :D

I have basically figured out all of the events that are to happen, up to right before the end. Now to just write it out...Kihihihihi...

I'm also working on another story where we get to check out the wonderful world of Stockholm Syndrome~!

I would like to thank JustSayNoToPants for being an oh so wonderful beta! She is thoroughly amused by Ven's lack of table manners, ohohohoho~! And, as she pointed out, going only a mile in one week is a little slow, even with zombies running around. The things they go through that first week shall be explained in flashbacks similar to the one in this chapter. East Chestnut and North Wabash are, in fact, actual streets that really are about a mile away from East Chicago, at least from the specific point I had them start at. I do my research. c:

And for those readers who live in that general area...I am sorry. Bahahahaha.

Future Warning: Zombie Children.