eat your heart out
orphan_account
Summary:
Sal's been stuck in room 402 since the start of the plague, zombified and alone(except for his pet cat). Then he meets a human that's strange in his own way, and Sal begins to feel more human than ever before.
Chapter 01: oh well. enough said
When Sal woke up in the hospital, face bandaged up and hurting, his father had told him, "Don't worry son, it'll all be better now. It's gonna be okay."
When Sal woke up on the floor, face in the mask and numb, his father was on the ground next to him, guts spilled out of him and half chewed.
As a zombie, Sal thinks it's not all that bad. He usually hangs out in 402, where he lived when he was alive. His cat still prawls around too. He ignores his father's room, the door closed. Sal never opened it.
All of the tenants who used to live there were either gone or dead. Or undead. Mrs. Packerton had brought the disease home with her, and infected most of the other tenants. Sal was one of them. He remembers it with hazy recollection. It was the second most tragic moment in his life. Or maybe in his past life. He's not technically alive now right?
At least his face matches with his predicament now.
It's boring mostly. Chug is still here, moaning and groaning for food. Even as a zombie he raided the vending machine when he first turned. Now he just complained over his hunger pains. Sal heard him even up on floor 4.
Sal himself hasn't eaten much of any one. His last meal might have been Miss. Rosenburg, right when he first turned. She hadn't tasted that good. Sal refrained after that. Though, it wasn't as if he had many options now a days.
Sal doesn't know how much time has passed since the outbreak, but it seemed that Nockfell was deserted. He hasn't seen a human in forever. Looks like he was going to wither away in this apartment building, with only the ability to groan. Figures.
After the electricity cut out, Sal was stuck on the fourth floor. The stairs were treacherous when he was human. Now, with barely any ability to walk correctly, he would most definitely end up a splat at the bottom of the stairwell.
It wasn't that bad really. Sal mostly looked outside through his window. The streets were barren. Nothing really changed. Living as a zombie made time irrelevant though. He could go days standing in one place without realizing it. What was left of his mind kind of went dead during those moments.
It kinda sucks.
The day when Sal's heart had went and gone ba-bum was a dark one. It was the middle of Winter, Sal guessed. Blankets of snow covered the entire landscape of what Sal could see from the little window.
Sal mourned for it. He wished he could feel the cold like he used to. When the idea of cold was followed up by hot chocolate and terrible Christmas movies and itchy sweaters. Now Sal was always cold. Having no blood circulation does that to a person.
So instead he watched the outside, standing rigidly. Gizmo slept by his feet. Sal wished he could comfort the cat as much as he comforts Sal. No matter what, Gizmo stayed with his owner.
A loud buzzing began suddenly. It grated at Sal's ears. He hasn't heard something that loud in months. Gizmo hissed and ran from Sal, darting into the bathroom. Sal turned.
The TV was on. Static played. And then Sal realized there was a general hum around him. Light flickered above him.
Sal moaned in confusion. The electricity is back on? What caused that? But then he had another thought. The elevator.
He walked as fast as he could (which wasn't very fast) to the front door. It took him a few tries but it creaked open soon enough. Sal darted his eyes under the prosthetic, but there was no one else. Human or zombie.
He shuffled toward the elevator, and when he saw the bleary red light of the elevator was on, he wanted to jump up and down with joy. But instead, he only moaned again.
Pressing the button to go down proved difficult. By the time he was able to hit it, Gizmo was prowling back toward him.
The elevator groaned and creaked, but the doors opened. He stepped in, feeling brief flashes of excitement in his cold veins.
Another five minutes to move his arm enough to hit the first floor button had him moving slowly down, Gizmo purring next to him.
The elevator lurched to a stop and Sal stepped out. He looked around slowly. The first thing he noticed was that Mr. Addison's door was thrown open. Sal was surprised. He honestly thought Mr. Addison would rather rot in his apartment then escape the zombie festered apartment complex. Then he heard a loud shout, followed by more squeals of excitement.
Sal hobbled forward, intrigued. Who or what made the noise? Was it one of his zombie brethren? Or a human?
At the thought, he stilled. Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to walk in there. If they were humans, they'd shoot him dead. Right?
He listened more. Voices began to filter into his mind. A girl spoke first.
"You see, I told you this was a good idea. This place is empty and it's stocked to the brim! Food for months!" The voice rang, clearly happy.
"This still seems dangerous. What if the power stirred some of those undead fuckers," another voice replied, and this was clearly a male. Well at least the dude was right. It sure stirred Sal up.
"Whatever, lets go get Todd and Neil. Bet they'll freak out over all this food," the female murmured and she clearly sounded amazed.
"Nah you stay. See if you can find anything else. I'll go get them," the male said. There must have been some type of unspoken communication because the next thing Sal heard were boots scraping across wood floors. And the sound was coming straight toward Sal.
Sal tried to stumble back, but his dead legs decided that was too much, and locked up. He crashed to the floor. There was no pain. Gizmo looked at him with wide eyes.
And suddenly there was a shotgun pointed straight at his chest. He looked up, groaning in protest, only to still entirely.
The man standing over him was tall. His eyes were hooded with bags and were a brown that sparkled in anger. His thick eyebrows were scrunched up, a frown pulling his mouth down.
Sal noticed the long brown hair, and how it was pushed back from his face with a clip, but strands still framed his face. He looked kind of hot, Sal thought. And then he felt his heart beat. He took a breath, the first in months.
The longer they stared at each other, the more the man seemed to grow tense. Sal took another breath, the action hidden behind his mask.
"Who are you?" The man asked. Sal wondered why he hadn't shot and then realized he may look human to the man. A dirty boy in a mask who wasn't actively trying to chew his face off. Sounds like a survivor to Sal.
Before he could do much of anything, Sal saw movement behind the man. In a flash, Sal moved, faster than he thought he ever could, pulling the human toward him. The stranger gasped and almost began to shout, but then he saw the looming zombie that was in the space he just occupied.
Sal had never seen what Mr. Addison looked like, but as a zombie, he didn't really look all that good. His skin was translucent white, and blood caked his mouth and hands. His eyes were a pale yellow.
A shot rang through the building. Mr. Addison keeled over, on top of Sal. Sal groaned in discomfort.
"Shit," the man said, and suddenly the weight of Mr. Addison's corpse was lifted from Sal.
A hand was brought into his vision. He distantly heard the man reassuring his partner that everything was okay.
Sal decided not to take the man's hand. Feeling a cold, clammy hand could clue the dude into what Sal really was.
Sal got up, with some difficulty. It was hard to move with frozen limbs, though the breathing he apparently could do now eased some of the burden.
"Hey thanks, man. Sorry about the whole shotgun thing," the man said once Sal stood up to face him. He was really tall. Sal had to crane his neck.
"I'm Larry, by the way," the man brought his hand back out. Sal knew he wanted a hand shake, but Sal only stared at the hand, before Larry awkwardly let his arm fall back to his side.
"You don't talk much, do you?" Larry murmured, staring at Sal with nice eyes. A complete 180 from the man he saw a minute ago. Sal believed this was just a bit too much to handle right now. He thought about shuffling back to his apartment, closing it and never reopening it again.
"Is that your cat?" Larry asked, looking at Gizmo, who was sniffing disinterestedly at Mr. Addison's corpse. Sal nodded roughly, the action causing his neck to almost creak.
"Hey-" and suddenly the woman who Sal heard before exited the apartment, wide eyed at the scene before her. Her eyes landed on Sal and they pinched slightly in confusion.
"Who's this?" The girl asked Larry, though she still stared at Sal.
"Hm, he saved me from that zombie. He won't tell me his name though," Larry replied, tilting his head slightly.
Sal felt the awkwardness of the situation. They really thought he was human. He knew he couldn't speak, but at that moment he wished he could. Larry seemed genuinely interested in Sal. Sal sure was genuinely interested in Larry.
The elevator dinged at that moment. All three turned to stare, the girl and Larry confused, while Sal felt dread fill up his veins.
Chug barreled out the elevator doors, and Sal heaved in a breath of fright.
Two guns trained in on Chug in that moment and Sal moved without thinking.
His voice filled the stale air of the apartment complex, a strangled form of speech that was hardly recognizable.
He looked at the two humans, who stared at him wide eyed. Well, at least they knew now.
The girl cocked her gun straight at him, ready to fire.
Sal closed his eyes.
He took a breath
.
"Wait, Ash."
Sal opened his eyes. Larry was standing in front of him, his back toward Sal, arms outstretched. Sal could see Ash's glare even still.
"What are you doing, Lar?" Ash hissed through gritted teeth.
"Look, let's just...go. We have the supplies we needed. Plus it'll be a waste of animation. We can leave without anymore bloodshed," Larry explained softly. Sal's eyes widened in surprise.
"They're monsters, Larry," Ash responded in disgust. Sal almost winced at the words, but ignored. She wasn't wrong. Chug groaned quietly to Sal, and he could almost imagine what he said. Something like, Can I eat these fools? Sal turned and grunted shortly. It was meant to be a terse no . Chug grumbled unhappily.
"He saved my life, Ash. You didn't see it. I was gonna be prime meat if it weren't for him," Larry informed, vouching for Sal. The zombie watched on, wishing he could speak.
"...Fine, we're just wasting daylight arguing here, anyways." With that, the woman turned, leaving the scene with a huff, her back rigid. The darkening sky and snow easily helped her disappear.
Larry turned to face Sal. Chug had wandered away, back to the elevator, probably down to the basement. He had always loved that vending machine, full or not.
"You're a zombie," Larry said to Sal, in what was faintly-concealed wonder. Sal nodded his head slowly, feeling kind of queasy at the stare the male was giving him.
"Why aren't you devouring my insides right now?" Larry asked, and he cocked his head to the left, just a bit, and Sal believed that if he had any blood, it'd probably run all the way to his scarred face at the moment.
To be fair, Larry smelled delectable. Something Sal has never, ever smelled before. Strong, tangy kind of scent. Miss. Rosenburg sure as hell didn't smell like this. But, Sal refrained. Larry didn't deserve it. HIs stomach panged silently.
He said nothing. What would he say, if he could speak? Yep, defective zombie here!
"Can you tell me anything?" Larry asked.
Sal looked at his face, the colossal amount of curiosity in those eyes. The twitches of his eyebrows. The mole under one of his eyes. The long nose. He kind of looked like a piece of art. Not built to please everyone, but few would see the true magic, Sal just might be one of those few.
Sal tried. He heaved a harsh breath, and it rattled through his useless lungs and he moved his dead tongue. They were quiet, spoken words. More of a breath that decided to sound a bit different. Barely a disruption in the silence.
" Sally... Face"
Chapter 02: everyday for us something new open mind for a different view
The electricity stayed on. Whatever whoever did, it worked. Sal traversed through the apartments daily, catching up with his other zombie tenants. He listened to rock music with Robert, played chess with the college kids (Sal thought he was quite good at it), and wandered the halls with Chug, among other things.
It was more stimulating than before for sure, but Sal was still left bereft most days. He wouldn't admit to himself as to why. Wouldn't admit as to why he thought of brown, hooded eyes, a crooked smile, and long limbs most nights, alone in 402.
It's been days since he's seen Larry. Sal knows that he left with his group, left to scour for my food, a place to sleep. Sal has watched enough zombie movies to know his bunch are persistent for food.
Even then, it stung. He's never seen someone look at him the way Larry had. Like he wasn't some freak in a mask, or a zombie in a mask now. He looked at him like Sal was a friend, warm and inviting.
Sal groaned to himself, ruffled. It would be best to forget the survivor. He was gone, probably left Nockfell by now.
A shuffle caught Sal's gaze. He looked down through the window. He just barely saw a figure open the door to Addison's Apartments. Sal felt an instant thrill fill his veins.
He turned quickly, causing Gizmo to stare at him with a sleepy eyed cat glare. Sal apologized with a soft pat on the head. Gizmo meowed and went back to sleep.
Sal's trips across the Apartments these past few days had helped him develop better motor function. He moved with more ease. He was maybe even a little more quicker.
He was down to the first floor in a flash (or at least a flash for a zombie) and when the doors opened, he was hit with that unmistakable scent again. Larry looked at him wide eyed, hand pressed against the button.
Sal stepped out. Larry stepped back, slightly stumbling.
"Hi, Sally Face," Larry murmured, smiling softly. Sal wanted to break out into a grin. He nodded his head instead, urging Larry to speak more.
"I'm sorry, I just… wanted to see you again," Larry admitted, face open and honest. Sal thought he just might melt to the floor in happiness. Sal nodded again, a bit more excitedly.
"Well I'm happy I found you so quick. I was about to look throughout this whole entire apartment," Larry said sheepishly.
Sal shook his head urgently. No, no, no. Sal might not want to chew off Larry's face, but the others wouldn't be so lenient. Chug may even ignore Sal next time.
"What?" Larry asked, frowning. Sal thought for a minute and it was silent. He made a decision, sticking his hand out between them.
" Knife," he finally said, the first word he's spoken since Sally Face . It was marginally better, though his throat felt like sandpaper whenever he spoke, and his voice was disgustingly hoarse.
"Knife? Why?" Larry asked, eyebrows pinching together. Sal only groaned, and he moved his fingers.
Larry let out a breath and he saw him relax. "Fine," he grumbled, fishing out a hunter's knife from his backpack. He placed it into Sal's hand.
Sal gripped it and looked at it disinterestedly. He plunged it into his chest. It barely felt like a tickle. Larry choked, staring at him in shock. Sal shrugged, pulling the knife out. Thick, ugly zom-blood oozed, the blood from when he was alive. Now it congealed and looked kind of brown.
Sal scooped some up with his other hand and unceremoniously rubbed it on Larry's face. Larry himself looked like he was going to be sick throughout the whole entire experience. Sal handed the bloody back knife to him, happy with his work.
"What the fuck dude?" Larry whined, looking at the knife in disgust. Sal shrugged again.
" Safe."
And with that he turned, pressing the elevator button again. He heard it whirring, and it opened with a creak.
Sal stepped in and looked at Larry. Larry sighed and stepped into the elevator. Sal pressed the 4th floor button as the doors closed. It was quite between them.
"You know, if I get acne because of this, I will fight you," Larry promised, glaring weakly at Sal. The zombie huffed out a laugh, though he was positively cackling in his head.
" Sorry," Sal murmured halfheartedly. The doors opened and they both stepped out. Sal shuffled to 402, Larry following. The door creaked open and he walked in, releasing some tension he didn't know he had. It was good that they didn't come across some other zombies. They'd want to know about the new addition. Larry closed the door behind him.
"This your place?" Larry asked, looking around. It was disheveled, and everything had a layer of dust coating it. Not really all that special, but it was Sal's. Sal nodded and walked towards his room. He rarely entered the room these days. It was tough to see so much that reminds you of a past life. But, Larry could get to know him through his room. So he'd bare through it.
"Woah!" Larry exclaimed when he entered the room, zeroing in on the guitar that Sal loved so much.
"Can I hold her?" Larry asked, looking at Sal. Sal nodded. The survivor smiled and Sal maybe felt his heart beat.
Larry picked his guitar up like he knew how to handle her. His finger moved across the guitar, brushing off the dust. He fingered the strings, before tightening them here and there. Sal watched with bated breath.
And then Larry strummed her, and Sal knew his baby was in good hands.
The first chords of whatever song he was playing rang, and Sal felt them course through him like blood. Larry looked a bit unsure, but concentrated. Sal watched, enraptured.
And then he started singing. Sal almost gasped. Larry sounded kind of good. Wobbly in some places, weak in others, but there was a current of strength and coziness and warmth that put it all together. Sal finally recognized the song. He wanted to sing along, but disturbing Larry now would be a crime.
Larry finished softly, humming the last bits, looking content. He opened his eyes, and seemed to realize what just happened. He flushed red, and it was suddenly Larry again, not some other being that had stepped into Larry's skin.
"Ah, my bad. I just haven't held a guitar in ages," Larry muttered, obviously embarrassed. He went to place the guitar on the stand again, when Sal shook his head harshly.
"What is it, Sally Face?" Larry asked, tilting his head.
Sal huffed a breath, looking away, " More, " he said aloud. Larry laughed a bit. Sal frowned.
"I don't know. It can't be fun for you. It is your guitar," Larry argued weakly. Sal only shook his head again, turning back to face Larry again.
" Please, " Sal said.
Larry shook his head, but did as he was told, strumming thoughtlessly as he thought of a song to play.
"Have you heard of Sanitys Fall?"
After an enlightening couple of hours where Larry tried bring Sanitys Fall's music to life with only one guitar, Sal was lying on the floor, chest heaving up and down and he tried to keep his laughter in.
Larry put the guitar back on the stand. "I really didn't think it was gonna be that difficult," Larry admitted, laughing as well.
Sal closed his eyes, trying to calm down. He heard Larry wander around his room.
"Dude, what's with all these pills?" Larry asked and Sal's mood instantly withered away. He got up slowly, staring at Larry. He was holding one of his medication bottles in his hand, face scrunched in confusion.
Sal looked away, uncomfortable. Ugh, Sal regretted bringing Larry up at this moment. Of course he was going to find the pills. Not like Sal hid them well.
"You weren't like...addicted right," Larry said awkwardly. Sal shook his head. He pointed at his mask, and let his hand drop to his lap.
"Oh," Larry said eloquently, "what happened?"
Oh nothing. Just got my mom killed and my face bit off.
Sal said nothing. It shouldn't even matter. Sal was a zombie. Larry just saw him as an outlier and was intrigued as to why Sal wasn't like the other zombies. He wouldn't really care about Sal if he meant him as a human, right?
"Sorry for asking," Larry apologized after a moment, and he heard the pill bottle be placed on his desk. Sal shrugged indifferently.
"Do you wanna go watch a movie?" Larry asked and Sal turned back to Larry, only mildly annoyed.
"I know cables out of the question, but I found these at a Walmart. Always wanted to watch them," Larry explained, shuffling through his bag.
Out came three movies. The Evil Dead, Godzilla, and Clueless .
Sal looked at the third in particular, and then looked back to Larry. Larry laughed, "Sorry, but Romcoms are good."
Sal hummed, " Maybe."
The sun was coming up just barely when they finished the three movies. Sal had thought The Evil Dead was kind of more shock factor than anything, but Godzilla and Clueless were good. It was obvious Larry enjoyed Clueless the most. He chattered throughout the movie, at some points even speaking directly to the characters in annoyance. Maybe Sal had watched more of Larry than the actual movie, sue him.
Larry yawned. "I gotta go," he said blearily, "they'll be wondering where I am."
Sal suddenly remembered the entire outside world. Sal was a zombie. Larry was a human. Sal should be dead at Larry's feet, not trying to cuddle up next to him. Sal nodded in acknowledgment.
"I'll try and be back soon. Ashley already suspects something, but whatever. You're cool, you know?" Larry got up, stretching his long limbs. Sal stayed sitting, watching him, unhappy. He'll have to go back to barely existing. It sucks.
Larry paused, looking down at him, before smiling. "See you soon, Sally Face."
"Bye."
Few more weeks passed. Sal walked along. He grunted with everyone, and made himself scarce when they went to feed. Maybe it was the trauma from his past life, or maybe it was feeding on Rosenburg meat, or maybe it was something about a cute, tall idiot whose name rhymes with fairy but Sal just couldn't find it in him to eat anyone.
Sal also begins to scurt by Robert's apartment. Even before, when the electricity was off, Robert had always been in a foul mood. For the last couple of weeks, he'd been better, but Sal could see the constant agitation in his eyes again. He growled loudly in the nights.
Larry comes again one night. He brings nothing with him, only an angry expression. Sal meets him downstairs again, and this time he's glad he did. Robert was pacing up in down the hallway when Sal and Larry stepped out of the elevator.
Robert sniffed the air loudly, watching Larry with narrowed eyes, scratching at his neck. Sal growled softly at Robert, hoping to convey this is zombie meat, can't you smell it? Larry stayed positively still throughout the whole experience. Robert finally huffed and ignored them again. Sal let out a quick breath before all but shoving Larry into his apartment and closing the door.
"What was with that dude? It's like he knew," Larry said once the door closed and Sal locked it. Sal shrugged, though he himself was rattled. That was too close.
"Ugh, this is crazy!" Larry suddenly shouted, and began pacing. Sal continued to stand, watching him. "I shouldn't be here. You're... you're a zombie! This place is filled to the brim with you undead fucks! What the fuck is so different about you?" he asked angrily. He stared at Sal with knitted eyebrows, mouth in a frown.
Sal shrugged again, feeling cold. Looks like Larry has finally realized that this is kind of fucked up.
And then Larry sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be putting my anger out on you. You're not the problem. It's just that...our camp has this new leader, and everyone loves him. But, fuck, does he talk shit about zombies. And I get it, mostly. Like yeah, they eat our brains and shit, but then you keep popping into my head whenever he talks and I just… wanna punch him in his smarmy mouth."
Sal's eyes were wide by the end of the speech. That's the most he'd ever heard Larry speak before.
"And fuck is my team up my ass every fucking minute of every single day. Sometimes a dude has got to have some alone time, even in the apocalypse, you know?" Larry asks, looking at Sal. The zombie realized just then how completely drained the man looked.
" Here ," Sal mutters, nodding to Larry.
"Huh?" Larry murmured, obviously confused. But Sal was already on the move. He shuffled around the apartment as quick as he could, grabbing his old comforter and pillow from his bed, and bringing it to the couch. He put in She's All That (which he borrowed from Sierra in 301) before sitting back on the couch, pillow in lap. He patted it and looked at Larry.
The human was looking at him with raised eyebrows. "Really?" he asked.
Sal nodded slowly, " Relax. Alone." Sal mimed zipping up the mouth of his mask and throwing the key away.
Larry laughed tiredly, but moved, crashing into the couch, almost falling on top of Sal in the process. He got settled, burrowing into the comforter, and soon Sal had a head in his lap.
Sal looked down at the long brown hair, fingers twitching incessantly by his side. He wanted to refrain, but the brown locks looked so inviting. He placed his hands lightly on top of the crown of Larry's head, waiting for the denial from Larry. When the man said nothing, Sal dug his fingers into the brown locks. Larry didn't say anything, but Sal may have heard him sigh a bit. Sal's lips twitched into a small grin.
The movie seemed good, but all Sal could focus on was the feeling of Larry's hair on the pads of his fingers, the deep breathing, and soft snores of a sleeping Larry.
Chapter 03: it feels like flying but maybe we're dying
The world continued to turn. Larry came irregularly, whenever he could. Sal began to count the days between. 3 days, 10 days, 1 day, 16…
Soon a month passed like that. Sal grew tired as the weather grew hotter. His flesh felt pinched, nasty. He hoped the heat didn't cause him to smell badly. Larry never said anything.
Robert got worse. Sal tried to help, do anything, but nothing changed permanently. His neighbor only grew more and more pale as the days went on, more hostile than ever.
Chug found his own zombie friend. She had come wandering, arm torn off, stomach ripped open, into the foyer of Addison Apartments. Her name was apparently Maple. Sal had no one to walk around the halls with anymore.
One day, Larry had thrown pebbles at Sal's window to get the zombie's attention. Sal had been too busy trying to throw out a dead bird Gizmo had brought to him.
Sal looked out the window. Larry smiled and waved. Sal opened the window, popping his head out to look down.
"Oh, Sally Face, let down your blue raspberry locks!" Larry called from below. Sal huffed, shaking his head.
"Awh, c'mon, pretty please?" Larry pleaded.
Sally bit back a laugh when he noticed movement behind Larry. Sal's heart chilled as he saw a zombie step out, eyes focused in on Larry.
" Look...out!" Sal tried to call out, but it was only a hoarse whisper.
Larry looked bemused, "What was that, Sally Face?"
Sal swallowed, his throat working as it pushed down air. Sal heaved in a giant breath, hoping he could be louder.
"Behind you!" someone suddenly shouted. Larry turned and stumbled backward. He equipped his knife quickly, and sliced at the zombie. It fell back, and Larry ran up on it, thrusting the blade into the zombie's head. It gurgled and fell to the floor.
Sal watched as Ashley came striding out into the pathway, looking furious.
Larry looked shocked at her appearance. "You followed me?" Larry asked.
"Of course I did. You've been disappearing too much lately. Red Eyes-,"
"Did you say something to that dickweed?" Larry interrupted, his own glare fierce now. Sal felt as if he was intruding upon a conversation he should not hear.
"Of course! I'm worried, Lar! You're hanging out with your undead buddy as if he's a real, living person. Does that not sound crazy to you?" Ashley responded, and her voice was less angry, more concerned.
"I know what I'm doing, Ash. It's okay. He's okay. He's… he's human enough for me, okay?"
"This is unbelievable!" Ashley spat before turning around and stalking away.
Larry sighed and rubbed his eyes. He turned up again, facing Sal with a strained smile.
"Sally Face?"
Sal nodded and hurried down to the elevator.
"Here," Larry murmured one night, during a storm. Sal turned. It was dark in the apartment. Sal had a bad day. He had felt nauseous that morning, and the sun had beat down something fierce the whole entire day.
Now that it was dark and storming, he felt marginally better, but the pit in stomach was dark and beyond any help. Larry's presence had seemed the only thing to keep it from swallowing Sal's whole entire being.
Larry was holding a big walkie talkie, the kind that could make a connection miles away.
Sal cocked his head to the side in questioning. Speaking was out of the question that night.
"Just in case," Larry explained and left it at that. Sal looked at the walkie and hesitatingly grabbed it. The pit in his stomach grew.
Sal heard the pebbles being thrown at his window. Three consecutive little taps. That was there system. Sal went down to the elevator, happy. Larry had been here just yesterday. He must have more free time.
When the elevator doors opened, Sal frowned. Larry stood in front of him, looking nervous beyond belief. But that wasn't what caught Sal off. There was an unmistakable other scent, something that clouded around the lobby along with Larry's constant smell.
"Uhm," Larry began, stilted and awkward, "sorry, but my friend wanted to meet you…"
And then a figure jumped out from Mr. Addison's apartment, looking beyond excited. His pale cheeks were flushed red. Larry looked like he wanted to die.
The other survivor walked quickly towards Sal, a heap of equipment sticking out of his bag.
"Hi! You must be Sally Face, or Sal, right?" He asked, hand outstretched. Sal's frown turned down even more. He nodded but didn't shake his hand. The guy didn't look to beat up with it.
"Are you really a zombie? Can you understand me? Do I smell good to you?" the man asked quickly. Sal was decidedly overwhelmed. He looked over to Larry, who was looking at him with a pleading expression. Please humor him was written across his forehead.
So, Sal nodded twice and shook his head once.
"Really? What do I smell like?" The ginger asked, so very curious. Sal thought of it for a moment, humming softly.
" Meat. Not...bad but...not good," he finally said, and his throat was itchy with overuse by the end of it.
The man was nodding excitedly. "Makes sense. Well, Lar, I got my questions. So I'll keep your secret!" And with that, the stranger turned and left.
Sal turned back and stared at Larry with wide eyes. Larry huffed a short breath. "My bad, Todd caught me sneaking out and wanted to know where I was going. I told him he wouldn't believe me and he said try me...this was the end result." Larry explained, looking very apologetic.
Sal rolled his eyes but extended his hand, and Larry dropped his knife into it.
"Are you sure that doesn't hurt you?" Larry asked, same as every other time. Sal merely shrugged. He didn't like lying to Larry.
It's not like it hurt in the beginning. It had felt like a tickle and then, after a couple times, a pinch and now, every time Sal stuck the knife into his chest, his body ached and a burning feeling spread from the inflected part. But, a little bit of pain was a small price to pay to have Larry in his undead life.
So he shrugged and dabbed the blood onto Larry's face as he always does. Larry doesn't flinch back anymore.
"So," Larry said as the elevator door opened, "what do I smell like, Sally Face?"
Sal rolled his eyes at Larry, even as his heart panged in his chest, just once.
Sal wanted to die. Fuck, he was already dead. Die again then. Get shot in the head and fuck off to zombie heaven.
His whole entire body was burning. The skin felt suffocating today, too little spread too far. He had taken out his eye about a while ago, and it only brought him a mild reprieve. He just felt… gross. As if he really was trapped inside a decaying body.
He heard the distant tap, tap, tap from the window, but could barely move off the couch. He groaned miserably instead. He didn't want to see Larry. He didn't want the human to see him like this, weak and primal zombie mush.
He hoped Larry would just leave and come back later. Sal would be better when the sun went down, and the dizzyingly, cloying heat dropped away. It was too much hope, as he smelled the equally dizzyingly, cloying scent of Larry right before a loud knock sounded from the hall.
"Sally Face!" Larry's voice was muffled, but still far too friendly to be directed to Sal. Sal groaned again, loud and very whiny.
"Sal?" Larry's voice called out again, and this time he sounded far more concerned. Sal groaned again. He heard the doorknob twist, and the hinges creak. Larry's scent flooded Sal's nose, and he growled lowly. He smelled so good. Too good, really. He'd been able to ignore it, but fuck , he doesn't know if he could right now.
"You know, someone could totally break into your apartment," Larry commented, joking at the prospect. Sal heard him move, and Larry's mouth watering scent only grew stronger…
.
.
.
Sal blinked and was suddenly sniffing up Larry's neck. He had him pressed against the wall. Larry was tensed against him. Sal bared his teeth against Larry's sweet skin, skimming.
"Sally Face," Larry whispered, but Sal could barely understand, a bloodthirsty pulse pounding in his head. He watched Larry's adam's apple bob up and down. God, how easy would it be to bite into the jugular, feast on Larry, and he could smell the fear-
Sal stumbled back, backing up from Larry. No, he can't. He can't do any of that. No,no n o nonono- Stop it, don't thinkdontthink- fleshbloodguts- STOP-
"Sal."
The zombie inhaled a deep breath, and looked up. Larry was still against the wall, looking at Sal cautiously. As if he was some wild animal. At that moment, Sal believed he really was. His skin itched, his face blazing an angry red underneath his mask.
" Sorry ," he choked out. It was so hard to talk normally, on a good day. It was torture on bad ones. Sal ruined it. Ruined everything. 'Cause he couldn't control his dumb fucking urges.
Larry smiled softly at Sal, and pushed himself off the wall, walking slowly toward Sal. Sal stilled, tense as Larry stood in front of him, tall and comforting.
The human tilted Sal's face up, the hand coming to rest on the curve of the dirty mask, fingers grazing it softly.
"It's okay."
And Sal felt, looking up into warm, brown eyes, that he could believe the lie.
The next time Larry visited, Sal hadn't seen him, too busy laying on the couch, Gizmo on top his stomach.
A sudden knock on the door startled Sal out of his reverie. He picked up Gizmo and put him on the couch, standing up and walking toward the door cautiously. Whoever knocked sure didn't smell human.
He opened the door, and Larry was there, covered in zombie juice, sniffling. Sal stared.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come," Larry rushed out and even seemed to turn as if he really was gonna leave. Sal grabbed his sleeve and Larry looked back, glassy eyes red.
Sal pulled him into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He guided Larry to the couch. They both sat down, and Gizmo took the chance to jump into Larry's lap, purring quietly.
Larry didn't say anything for a long while. He just stared down at Gizmo, shoulders hunched. He looked a wreck.
Sal took a chance, finding his voice and asking, " What's...wrong?"
Larry looked up at Sal, and he looked so sad. Sal was very worried.
"I, uhm, saw my mom," Larry began, murmuring, "we had been separated when...everything went down. I haven't seen her in months. We went scouting. It was stupid of us to go to the city. No one was nabbed, thank God, but it was close.
"I saw her. Her back was toward me, but I knew her janitor outfit. I thought, for a second, maybe she was okay. She turned, and I saw her dead eyes, and her pale skin. She just...stared at me. I thought for a second that maybe she was like you, you know?"
Larry stopped for a second. He sucked in a breath, and tears finally fell. Sal thought that if his heart worked, it probably would have broke in that moment.
"And then, she ran at me. I've never seen one of them move so fast. Her teeth were bared. Eyes vacant. It wasn't my mom. She was gone." Larry closed his eyes but still, tears slid down his face.
"I had to shoot her. She was so close. I-," Larry choked, sobbing out, "...her blood…"
Sal groaned his best sympathetic noise. He didn't really know what to do. He thought of when he woke up undead, seeing his dad's lifeless corpse next to him. What would he have wanted in that moment?
Sal hugged Larry tightly, as he crumbled into tears and sobs.
Sal walked with Larry out to the elevator. Larry looked better now. Still pale and ashen, but his eyes were a little be brighter. His cheeks were ruddy by all the crying. Sal thought he looked a little beautiful.
"I had run away. They must think I'm dead by now," Larry muttered. Sal felt an odd pang in his chest. Sal couldn't imagine Larry dead. It didn't seem possible.
" Soon?" Sal asked.
Larry nodded, "Soon, Sally Face. Thanks for putting up with me, by the way."
Sal patted Larry's shoulder comfortably, in reassurance.
Larry smiled slightly, and it was wane, but it was there, and Sal was proud of himself. He had made Larry feel better.
Maybe Sal didn't suck so bad.
Chapter 04: and let me loose, i fear i've finally found a way
Sal stared up at the daunting door. Room 401. His heart panged tightly at the number. He used to have so much fun with Robert, back when they were alive. Robert used to be one of his best friends, a warm presence after the harsh reality of high school. Now, the room permeated a cold feeling, but Sal thought enough was enough. Robert was his friend, and he wouldn't drop him when the other zombie obviously needed help.
His zomb-friend hadn't left his room in days. He was too quiet. What used to be loud banging and moaning at random moments throughout the day and night has been swallowed up by silence. Even Larry had begun to wonder as to why Sal's neighbor had gone ghost out of nowhere. It frightened Sal more than the angry noises. At least the anger was a feeling, an emotion.
So Sal steeled himself and knocked on Robert's door, ready for some backlash. Nothing. Not even a peep. Sal took a steadying breath and turned the doorknob. It opened with a click. The stench of rotting flesh hit Sal's nose and he flinched back in surprise. Sure, zombies were dead meat walking, but Sal had never smelled something so…hopeless.
" Robert? " Sal called out, opening the door wider. There was a weak groan from inside. Sal looked at the scene in front of him, unsettled and sad.
Robert was in a slump against the wall, head drooped down and arms splayed wide at his sides. He looked so… decrepit. His skin looked slimy and translucent, like it could slip right off of Robert's body if he moved an inch. And then Robert looked up and Sal felt a sudden sense of deja vu at the sight of Robert's face. Half of his skin was still intact, if by what seems like threads. But the other half was completely picked off. Stark white bone showed through instead. Sal looked down and saw that the zombie's were caked in brown blood, and almost gagged. DId he do this to himself?
" Painful...hopeless, " Robert whispered fervently and Sal stared in mild shock. He had never heard another zombie talk. Grumbles had always been enough communication for their bunch. " Hungry."
Sal felt so guilty. He could have helped his friend early on, instead of hiding away, afraid of the other zombie. He hadn't tried and now his friend was suffering.
" Hope...love...faith, " Sal tried to choke out, sinking to the ground as well, next to Robert. Robert moaned quietly. " Sorry ," Sal muttered, his voice a low growl. Robert's hand reached blindly and Sal grasped it.
" Not your fault. Lost hope… in myself… in life ," Robert replied, voice wavering in pain. Sal felt his eye prick up, and he tried to blink the feeling away. " Worse ," Robert moaned, and his hand crushed Sal's but the blue-haired zombie didn't object. Robert began to pick at his face again, the noise making Sal flinch.
" How to...feel better?" Sal asked, hoping Robert would understand. His friend lolled his head to the side, facing Sal. His eyes were gleaming.
" You have. "
Sal visited Robert every day, hoping his presence could fight back whatever was destroying the other zombie. It slowed down considerably, but the damage was done already. Robert was quiet now, and his apartment was silent when Sal wasn't there.
Sal had tried to explain it to Larry, the aching loneliness that festered where your soul once was. For the cold grip of death to have its claws in you at all times. The loneliness that drove worthless thoughts into brains. It feeds on you and all a zombie could do was chomp on brains and hope they'd feel different for one moment. Feel alive.
"Well, you don't eat people and you're fine," Larry had commented curiously, head tilted.
( FeedfeedfeedfeedEATHIM)
Sal smiled stiffly behind his mask. " Have you," Sal replied. Larry flushed softly.
(and now,
a brief intermission)
Sal growled, and Larry stared at him, wide-eyed and frightened. Sal stalked up to the human, backed him up against the couch. Larry's legs buckled and he fell with an oof. Sal grinned and dropped down on top of him.
"S-Sally Face," Larry choked out, but Sal shushed him. Sal reached up and unclipped the mask, while his other hand covered Larry's eyes. Sal could hear Larry's heartbeat, hear the thrumming of blood in his veins, so alive and sparkling and delicious.
Sal dropped the mask and leaned in, sniffing up and down the column of Larry's neck. The human whimpered. Sal licked his teeth and grazed them just so at the juncture of the oh so warm neck. He was so close to tasting heaven. Larry moaned softly, and Sal smirked against his neck, and bit down, infecting the prime piece of perfection in front of him, dirtying up his blood, making him Sal's-
Sal jerked awake, blinking stupidly at the ceiling. He was hot. Disturbingly warm really. What the fuck was that? Was he fantasizing about- Sal swallowed audibly, his mouth clicking.
Then he realized he had slept and dreamt and zombies don't do that , Sal had never slept before and-
did he like Larry?
"Sally Face?" Larry's voice crackled through the air, and Sal almost jumped out of his skin in anxiety. He looked around, but no, Larry wasn't there. "C'mon, Sal," Larry's voice muttered again, and Sal was a hundred percent sure he was going insane, but then he realizes duh the walkie talkie.
He walked over to it and willed himself to calm down. No, Larry doesn't know about what just happened. Though, he never had called him up on the talkie before. Maybe he's psychic and is about to tell Sal that he's weird and that he can't hang out with someone who wants to devour him.
" Y-yeah," Sal stuttered out, mouth dry.
"Hey man, thought you weren't there for a minute. Had me worried," Larry's voice murmured back quietly, and Sal relaxed. No, Larry didn't have a clue about Sal's gay panic.
" Here, " Sal confirmed, walking back to sit on the couch.
"Sal," Larry repeated, and this time he seemed more serious. Sal hmmmed in reply, urging Larry on. No matter what, Sal would be there for Larry.
"I really think something is up with the leader of my group," Larry admitted quietly, much more cautious than before. Larry frowned thoughtfully at Larry's accusation.
" Evidence ," Sal replied, because hey, sometimes Larry over exaggerated things. Especially in the middle of the night, which it seemed to be. Sal shook his head silently. A sleep-deprived Larry was always a conspiracy theorist.
Larry was silent for a minute, and Sal thought that maybe he was collecting his thoughts. Wow, how much does he have to say , Sal wondered, but then the walkie buzzed to life again. Sal listened.
"Well, first of all, he makes us call him Red Eyes, like that's not totally foreboding right? And his zombie hate speech! Most of the time, it sounds like he's totally terrified of them, like he's overcompensating for something. Like I've never seen someone want to be kept away from the undead as much as him. He even has bodyguards!" The walkie made a loud static noise as Larry whisper screamed into the receiver.
Larry was quiet for a moment, and began again, "Those aren't even the biggest issues. He's been pushing curfew times so that they'll be longer. And he has an open door policy which basically grants snitches immunity if they rag on anyone," Larry complained, whispering again. Sal wondered if that's why Larry hasn't come to visit him tonight.
"That fucking...sucks ," Sal muttered into the talkie. He heard Larry laugh bitterly. "The worst issue is the disappearances. They've been happening ever since Red Eyes took over. People who apparently run off into the night or are nabbed by zombs during scouting trips. And it always happens to be the people who speak out against Red Eyes...something is going on here. I can feel it. The whole camp is on edge. It's so depressing."
" I'm sorry, " Sal offered in the silence that followed. He wished he could do something for Larry. His heart ached. Being a zombie sucked ass.
"No worries. I just wanted to vent. I'll see you soon, Sally Face," Larry sighed. He sounded so unhappy. Sal wished he could reach across space and time to comfort his friend.
" Goodbye. "
Sal had been on the first floor, visiting Mrs. Gibson and her zombie pet rabbit, when the electricity fizzled out into silence. Sal frowned. Sometimes, the electricity was wonky, but it had never completely shut off before.
The darkness of the corridor vanished as the front doors of Addison Apartments were opened, and a duo of men entered, talking loudly to one another. Sal froze in place, hoping that neither would notice him. He didn't really have a place to hide.
"This place is perfect. A nice expansion. The boss will be proud," one of the burly men said, looking around the apartment building admirably. Sal had no choice but to listen.
"Oh yeah, but first we gotta see if there are any zombie fucks," the second one said, an Australian accent lightly sprinkled onto the words. The first man snorted.
"Yeah, we should have a team for that. Who knows how many there are here," the first man explained, and the second one nodded in agreement. They had turned around, and Sal seemed to be in the clear when the first man suddenly swiveled back, eyes locked on Sal.
"The fuck?" the man muttered, and his partner turned and caught sight of Sal too. Shit . He couldn't take on both.
"Well looks like we found one already," the first man grinned, hand already holding a pistol up towards Sal's face. Shit.
"He's not moving. Don't you think that's weird," the Australian commented aloud, frowning at Sal.
The man with the pistol bared his teeth in anticipation, "So, he's a little broken. Still an undead motherfucker," he responded as he pulled the safety back. Sal scrunched his eye, and he then he realized that he never had put his glass eye in after he took it out weeks ago. Huh, and Larry didn't say anything about it.
"Drop the gun, Barnes," a voice suddenly exclaimed, so familiar that Sal instinctively relaxed. He opened his eyes and saw Larry at the door, shotgun pointed straight at the man with the pistol. Sal halfheartedly realized that Todd was there, his own gun pointed at the Australian.
"The fuck do you think you're doin', Johnson," Barnes growled out, eyes sparking in anger. But Larry looked furious. And hot. Sal bit back a curse at the thought. Focus! GUn pointed at your brain!
"Drop the gun and I won't shoot you to pieces," Larry growled out.
Barnes narrowed his eyes, "Why the fuck are you protecting this shit. He ain't human. You can see it in the skin," Barnes asked, but he dropped his gun, and Sal was relieved. He had really thought that was the end.
"I don't give a shit. Get the fuck out of here, Barnes," Larry demanded, voice deep. Sal had never heard him sound like that. Like a true badass survivor.
Hot.
Barnes suddenly grinned, razor sharp and threatening, "You fucking just wait, Johnson," he murmured, tone more cheery than ever. Sal thought it was terrifying.
Barnes stormed out, pushing past Larry and Todd, and the Australian followed, glaring at them all.
When they were out of sight, Larry seemed to deflate. His shoulders hunched up and he almost dropped the shotgun by accident. Todd didn't look like he was in much better shape.
"I should have gotten here earlier, I'm sorry," Larry apologized to Sal, voice soft. Sal walked toward Larry, legs still a bit shaky with misplaced adrenaline.
Sal took Larry's hand in his own before he could think about, and Larry stared at him with wide eyes.
"Than you...both ," Sal said quietly, and he looked at both, hoping the gratitude could shine through the mask.
Todd nodded shakily, "Yeah, no problem. But, you know, you owe me a bunch of answers now," Todd joked, but he still looked frazzled. Sal nodded. Of course, he'd answer any question he could. "Cool. I'll go try to turn the electricity back on," Todd explained and left. It was just him and Larry now.
"Todd had told me about the plan. I hadn't known. If I had, I could have protected you better. Now they know," Larry said fervently, fast and berating. Sal shook his head, and Larry fell silent.
Sal brought his hand up and rubbed his thumb across Larry's chin and up the curve of his face softly, reveling in the smooth skin. They barely touched on most days, but this, this was different. The rules were disrupted for the moment.
" You're...good. You saved me," Sal tried to reassure, and he dropped his hand back down and looked at their interlocked fingers. His skin looked so pale against Larry's, almost gray. The blue veins were a stark contrast on his skin, while Larry seemed to be tanned perfectly.
"I feel like something's coming. Something big," Larry murmured into the silence. Sal nodded silently. He felt the same. But here, it seemed like whatever was lurking in the darkness couldn't touch them, not in this moment.
Too bad it couldn't last forever.
Chapter 05: just loathing in my sweet misery
Sal should have expected his predicament to get worse. Summer was just beginning to hit her peak, and the sweltering heat did Sal so dirty. He never knew how trapped he could feel, in his own body, but fuck was it uncomfortable. His body was battling deterioration from the sizzling sun. It was an uphill battle. Sal tried his hardest to cool himself as best he could.
Early in April, Larry had given him a tank top, something Sal was embarrassed to wear around. He loved his layers, but it just wasn't possible now, not in this heat. Larry also brought a fan, courtesy of Todd, and Sal had been so happy, he could have kissed Larry. But then again, he had found that wanting to kiss Larry seemed more and more desirable. Sal tried to stamp down those thoughts, but they grew like weeds in his brain.
Along with the summer heat, Sal grew cranky. The constant warmth muddled his brain, left him bleary and bothered, and he, unfortunately, took it out on his friends. Chug and Maple's apparent love for each other had Sal grinding his teeth. Robert's disregard for the heat made Sal exasperated and jealous. Todd's questioning left Sal uncharastically short-tempered, and Larry's whole entire presence made Sal hot and bothered on top of already feeling hot and bothered, which created a tension between the both of them.
The blinding heat had come with another consequence. Sal dreamed almost nightly. It snuck up on Sal like a viper. One moment he was staring at the walkie, or Gizmo, or out the window, and the next he was in Larry's arms, or watching another movie with Larry, or making out with Larry, or biting Larry's flesh off. Larry, Larry, Larry. It was always him. Sal would wake up sweating buckets.
(When he asked Robert if he ever slept, the zombie had choked out a laugh. Sal kept his dreams to himself.)
As Sal's mood dipped, Larry began to keep away, in favor of speaking over the walkie. Sal should have been depressed about it, but he was just relieved. At least he didn't have to endure Larry's sickeningly savory scent that way. Larry seemed to understand that this was best for Sal.
The days rolled over onto each other like thick molasses. They were long and boring, and the only time Sal actually moved from his spot next to the fan was to let Gizmo in and out of the apartment. The wind blew lazily throughout the living room.
The hours passed.
Sal was laying on the couch when his walkie talkie made a crackle and Larry's voice flooded the room.
"Salllllyyy Faceee," he whispered. Sal frowned and swung his legs out, sitting up slowly. The walkie was on the floor, left by the fan. Sal walked over to it. He picked it up, ready to ask what was wrong (Larry never spoke like that) when Larry spoke again.
"I think I'm drunk," he said, and Sal wanted to laugh, because wow, he didn't expect that. Larry kept on talking, "I think… me an' Ash found some alcohol . She's asleep now, cause it's two in the morning or something, but I can't," Larry said, before hiccuping slightly.
"I miss you," he murmured, the walkie just barely catching it. "Wish I could make you feel better. You do so much for me, Sally Face."
Sal was surprised. Drunk Larry sure was talkative. Maybe Sal should stop him before he says something he'll regret.
" Larry Face ," Sal said into the talkie. It was silent for a minute and then Larry opened up the connection, and Sal felt his mood brighten as he heard Larry's peals of laughter.
"I love that. Sally and Larry Face. Like we're married!" Larry babbled. Sal flushed at Larry's comment. "Hmm, marrying a zombie. You'd make killer food," Larry said, before breaking down into laughter again.
Sal rolled his eyes. " Sleep," Sal growled into the receiver, hoping the human would listen to him.
"Hmm, your voice is so hot," Larry, and then, to Sal's horror, started to giggle. "Oops, maybe I shouldn't have said that."
Sal tried to keep a cool head, though he seemed ready to combust at any moment. Why would Larry say something like that? Did he really mean it? No, it was probably just stupid, drunk rambling.
" Sleep now, Larry Face, " Sal repeated, hoping Larry would.
"I'm gonna come see you tomorrow. I don't care about what Ashley says or about Red Eyes' stupid rules. I miss you. I wanna watch Clueless ," Larry rushed out, and by the end of it, he sounded as if he was going to cry. Sal wished he could laugh at the moment, but Larry might actually bawl.
" Yes, tomorrow. Sleep now," Sal agreed. The zombie could just see what kind of smile Larry was probably sporting. The lazy one he only showed when he got exactly what he wanted.
"Coooool. See you soon, Sally Face," Larry murmured, and the connection shut off once and for all. Sal looked down at the walkie, a smile of his own twisting his mangled lips up.
Sal was kind of excited to see Larry. They haven't actually hung out in weeks. So, he woke up (yes woke up, Sal was still amazed by that) and the first thing he did was walk into his room. He sauntered on over to his jar of eyeballs. He's been eyeless for far too long, and he wanted to...look good for Larry. He hasn't seen him in a while. There was positively no other reason.
He looked at his options and wondered how each would look. The red one was out of the question, the black one had been...a phase, and the violet one seemed too bright and obnoxious. He hummed and settled for the gray one. He had never really used it. It could be a nice change.
He popped it in his socket and tried not to grimace. It was cold, at least. Sal blinked a couple times, rearranging it in the cracked mirror in his room. And then he noticed just what a disarray his whole hair was in. The pigtails he had when he died had fallen apart quickly, leaving his hair down. He never had a reason to fix it.
He could only find one hair tie though, so the pigtails were out of the question. He thought briefly, before going for the bun. He took his mask off quickly, his face breathing for the first time in months. The mask was grimy, and the inside was starting to reek. He decided that the bottled water in the small pantry in the kitchen had to work. Larry had brought them over once for himself, and there was still some left.
Seeing his face for the first time in forever was kind of shocking. He forgot how gruesome he looked. The raised skin on his cheek and neck looked irritated beyond belief. His skeleton like nose. The teeth showing because of the missing parts of his lips. The jagged scars running across his face. Sal had always thought the scars were kind of cool. If it was just those, he would have imagined he looked like some scarred pirate. But the rest of it just made him look terrifying. A circus freak.
Whatever.
Sal twisted his hair up quickly, and the muscle memory was there, and before he knew it, he had a decent looking bun. He hummed contently.
Washing off the mask in the kitchen sink was kind of fascinating. There was just so much grime that washed away. When he finished, the mask looked better and way cleaner. Sal smiled and strapped it back on.
With that done, Sal still had a couple hours till Larry showed up. Then again, he could surprise him whenever. He liked doing that sometimes. So Sal decided to wait by the window. He waited as the day grew hotter and hotter, waited as the sun dragged its way through the sky, waited as the sky went a rosy pink with a sunset, waited as the moon illuminated the sky. Sal waited.
Larry didn't show up.
Sal tried to call for Larry on the walkie the next day, kind of mad but also understanding. Larry had been wasted. Maybe he had forgotten.
" Larry Face, " Sal spoke into the walkie, and let go of the button, waiting. Gizmo jumped on the couch and nestled himself next to Sal. The zombie absentmindedly petted the cat. He chewed on his jagged bottom lip, waiting.
Okay, so Larry was probably out doing camp things. Understandable. He'll just have to wait till it's dark out.
" Lar," Sal's voice called out into the walkie. It was night now and had been for a while. Sal waited. The other line was silent.
"Larry? " Nothing.
" Larry."
"C'mon, Larry Face."
"This isn't...funny."
"Please…"
Sal growled into the walkie desperately, his throat aching too much to talk. The line stayed cold.
Sal counted the days. One, five, seven, sixteen…
He began to lose hope. Larry really was gone. His camp moved on somewhere else, or he was dead, some zombie food, or maybe a zombie himself, wandering the streets of Nockfell, vacant-eyed and hungry. Sal couldn't handle the thoughts.
He grew angry. Who the fuck did Larry think he was? Walking out of his life, without so much of a goodbye. Sal bashed the walkie into the wall, breath leaving him in heaves. Robert tried to calm him down, but Sal was so furious. Now he understood why Robert had been so angry before. It felt better than staring blankly at a wall, hoping for something that's long gone.
His skin was so itchy . He scratched all day and night, leaving angry red marks that lasted for days. He didn't feel the burn of them. He just felt more tight, more claustrophobic. If he could shed his skin at that moment, he would.
The other zombies began to fear him, just like he used to fear Robert. Don't look at Sal for too long, or you'll go crazy too . Sal bared his teeth behind his mask, but ignored the stares from the undead, even if they followed him.
He stopped sleeping, which made things worse. At least then he had been able to escape the always current of fury. But, at least he didn't get to wake up, drowsy and hopeful, before he remembered, no Larry was gone .
But, bit by bit, the anger vanished. Soon, Sal felt like a husk of despair. He lost his best friend, lost one of the only things he loved about his new life. He spent days in his apartment, and it felt like deja vu. Sal realized he was acting like before . Before Larry. Before he had felt human.
When he heard the loud shout outside his apartment, he almost ignored it. It was whatever. What did he care? And then he heard it, unmistakably.
"Sally Face!"
The sadness dropped away for a moment, and curiosity took over, as well as a shred of hope. He walked over to his windows.
Ashley stood below, looking up at him. Sal stared down at her, silent. What did she want? Why was she here? To rub in his face that Larry was gone, or what?
"I need your help!"
Sal's eyes widened, and before he could think, he nodded and made his way to the elevator.
Ashley grimaced at the blood on her face, but she made no comment. Sal didn't even try to explain it. Speaking seemed like such a lost cause lately.
When they entered his apartment, Ashley looked around, seeming to dissect the place. It was a mess. She made no comment on the smashed pieces of the walkie talkie.
"First of all, I would like to apologize," Ashley began, and Sal was already completely confused. So he only continued to look at Ashley.
The woman sighed and sat down on the couch, looking positively uncomfortable. "Okay, so it was really shitty of me to just, disregard you like I did. I just never ever heard of the undead coming back and not eating every other living thing. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Larry and Todd had always been better at accepting oddities than me" she explained looking up. Her hair was messy, in the 'raking fingers raking through it' type way. Sal nodded, and she let out a breath.
"I tried to stop Larry from coming here. I just thought that you'd snap, or that he'd get killed on the way here or back, or some other terrible possibility. I wanted to protect him. He was one of the only people I have...had," she looked down, but Sal saw the tears had already built up.
"I just didn't expect this. I thought we were safe," she muttered to herself. Sal sat down next to her and tried the comfort her. He placed his hand over her shoulder. Ashley tensed but didn't pull away.
She looked up and met Sal's eyes. "I think Red Eyes did something to Larry and Todd," Ashley confessed.
Sal's body chilled at the words. If that were true, Sal had been wasting days, weeks , acting like a total fucking asshole while Todd and Larry were kidnapped, taken somewhere to what? Be killed?
" Fuck, " Sal muttered. Ashley looked surprised, but Sal continued, even with his throat burning, " he was… drunk. Went to sleep...taken?" Sal trailed off in a questioning tone. Ashley nodded.
"That's what I think. I was past out. I didn't hear anything. I woke up and he was gone. I had asked Red Eyes and he said that Larry and Todd had run off, but it didn't make sense! Todd wouldn't go anywhere without Neil, and Larry would tell me if he was going to leave. I knew that he was lying, I just didn't know why. Why would he take them?"
Sal shook his head in misery, " My fault...protected me," Sal informed. Ashley looked stricken. Sal wanted to cry. Everything was falling apart.
"What are we going to do?" Ashley whispered sadly, shoulders slumped.
Sal thought. What could they do? A zombie and one lone survivor against a tyrannical man and his lackeys.
But, they couldn't quit. Sal thought about what Larry would do. Larry wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd find a way, no matter what. He saved Sal twice already. Sal looked toward the window, where the day was just turning to dusk, and thought long and hard.
" We find them," Sal said, his voice stronger than ever. He was resolved. Even if it kills him, Sal would find Larry and Todd. He'd save them, just like they'd saved him.
Chapter 06: i'm in your head, apart of your being
Ashley seemed kind of shocked. Sal was too. He never sounded so bold before. But right now the pain of speaking was set to the side, the determination coursing through his veins like blood.
"How?" Ashley asked, frowning in thought.
" Any buildings at the camp?" Sal asked instead, thinking of anywhere Red Eyes could have taken Larry and Todd. It had to be close. Larry had explained that none of Red Eye's guards had disappeared along with the missing persons. So, there was a big possibility that they were still in Nockfell, at least.
"Well, our camp is centered around the big church down the road. That's why Red Eye's wants to expand here. It's close enough, but it would be able to hold a lot more people than what we can," Ashley explained.
Sal was kind of surprised at the news. He had always thought Larry lived somewhere far out, on the other side of Nockfell or something. Turns out they were next door neighbors.
" The church," Sal repeats, " there?"
Ashley's eyes widened, "It could be a possibility. The priest and his son were kicked out when Red Eyes came to town. He doesn't let anyone but his closest personnel in the place. Even I've never seen the inside of it." Ashley looked grim by the end of speaking, and Sal sympathized with her. If they were right, Red Eyes has been harboring Larry and Todd, as well as all the other missing people, under everyone's noses, right in the middle of camp!
" There." Sal grimaces behind his mask. This was their only move.
"That place is heavily guarded. We can't just sneak in. It'll be suicide. Plus even if we could, the building is giant! We wouldn't make any progress before we would be caught," Ashley groans, head falling into her hands, "it would be impossible!" Her voice is muffled in her hands.
"We need a distraction, " Sal tries, but Ashley shook her head.
"Yeah, and where would we get that?" she mutters. But Sal's already thinking of something.
" I got it. Wait here."
Robert was laying on his bed when Sal opened the door, listening to Weezer. He looked up in disinterest.
" I need your help, dude," Sal said in lieu of any greeting. The half of Robert's face scrunched up in contemplation for a moment before it smoothed out again.
"Is this about your boyfriend?" Robert asks, and Sal felt his brain halt to a stop.
"What? " Sal almost screeched. What the fuck was Robert talking about. Robert got up slowly, shrugging his shoulders.
"You think I don't remember that big nosed human? I could smell him, even with your blood on him. We all could," Robert explained slowly. Sal wished he wasn't such good friends with Robert, because if he weren't, he'd totally beat the shit out of him at the moment.
"You all knew? And didn't attack him? What the fuck!" Sal groaned out, growling angrily. Half of Robert's face twitched in amusement. Sal found nothing about this amusing.
"You were happy. Why would we take that away from you?" Robert's face scrunched up in the first inkling of annoyance , "though it was annoying hearing you two giggle at all hours of the night."
Sal felt a flame of embarrassment lick his face, but he ignored it for the time being. There was no time to spare now. The clock was ticking, and with the weeks since Larry's disappearance, any more time wasted was terrifying to think about.
"Yes, it's about him. He went missing. So did our friend. We need to rescue them," Sal explained, hoping that Robert would understand.
"We?" Robert murmured, looking down at Sal as he stood up. Robert always looked intimidating that way. The shadows that played against the bones of his face made him look ghastly. Sal thought it was cool.
"Me and another survivor, Ashley. And maybe you guys," Sal tried, voice trailing off. Without the help of his zombfriends, he and Ashley are kinda fucked.
"What would… we do, " Robert asked, and Sal broke out into a smile that was hidden in his mask.
"Stir up some trouble," Sal informed and felt that, yeah, maybe they could totally do this.
He tried not to feel too hopeful.
" Okay, no actual biting the survivors please!" Sal growled out the fifth time. All the tenants still living in Addison Apartments were grouped together by the entrance. Ashley was outside, waiting for them to all calm down. Sal thought that it was better for them not to have the smell of human so close yet. Robert kind of looked like this was all so hilarious, standing by his side. Sal wanted to kill him.
Chug was frowning, " Self defense?" he asked. Sal wanted to groan loudly.
" You guys can be defensive without biting them! If push comes to shove-" Sal stopped for a moment, his throat aching. He had never spoken so much for so long. It was becoming torturous. " -knock them unconscious. The fewer casualties the better."
The group of zombies grumbled unhappily at the orders, but all seemed to agree with the rules.
" Great. Let's go ."
The night was already in full bloom when they left Addison Apartments. Ashley led the way, Sal following right behind and the horde behind them. It was slow going, but they had to be completely silent or else they'd be caught.
Ashley led them all through winding trees and a large forest that surrounded the church. She had explained that there was always a small unguarded entrance at the back of camp that was difficult to spot without knowing what to look for. Ashley had confessed that it was the way Larry escaped without getting caught for so long.
It took maybe half an hour to get there, at most an hour.
Ashley seemed to progressively become more jittery as the minutes passed. Sal placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looked over at him, smile wobbly. "I'm betraying my people," she confessed, eyes alight with tears.
" You're saving them," Sal argued softly. Ashley took a shaky breath and nodded her head. Sal watched her steel herself.
"We are going to save them and stop Red Eyes," she vowed, and Sal nodded in agreement.
" Let's go," Sal murmured.
While Robert led the horde of zombies to a hidden location Ashley disclosed, Sal and Ash walked through the camp quickly. They only had fifteen minutes before Robert and the other zombies began their distraction.
Sal had let his hair fall around his shoulders again to hide the gray tinge of his neck and wore his giant hoodie. It was too warm for it, but it hid Sal better, made him look more human.
Since it was past curfew, the only people out were the guards, and Ashley knew just where each was stationed. They weaved through tents, trailers, and bunkers before they arrived at a dingy looking tent. It was big but old looking. Patches of other fabric were sewn into it. Sal thought that maybe it was blue before, but now it was a muddy brown color.
"Travis!" Ashley hissed. There was a quiet groan from inside. "C'mon, Travis, open up!"
There were a few seconds of silence, before the zipper of the tent slide down slightly, and a ruffled blonde head poked out the whole. The head was glaring.
"The fuck, Ashley," Travis grumbled, and Sal would have laughed at the honest look of contempt on his face if time wasn't of the essence right now.
"Get out, we're gettin' your church back," Ashley explained. Travis blinked and suddenly seemed way more awake. He continued to glare at Ashley.
"The fuck are you talking about? And who the fuck is this?" and suddenly his glare was trained on Sal. Sal said nothing.
"A friend. We need your help, dude. You're the only one who knows how the church looks on the inside. We need you," she pleaded. Travis sighed in anger, and his head disappeared back in the hole. Sal felt his hope crash into smithereens.
The zipper sounded again, and the tent opened wider. Travis crawled out, standing up and stretching his back. He looked at Ashley's glimmering eyes with narrowed ones. "I'm only helping you because I'm done sleeping on the floor like some heathen." And with that, he turned and stalked away. Sal and Ashley looked at each other for a moment before running to catch up with him.
"So, you're one of those demons, huh," Travis conversed as they waited for the signal. They were hiding in the bushes by the church, and the signal was the screams of terrified survivors. Travis seemed keen on bothering the shit out of Sal.
"Sure," Sal grumbled. Travis whistled lowly at the admission.
"You know my dad told me that the undead rises only if the person was a sinner. So, you a sinner?" Travis asked, and Sal had an inkling that the dude was kind of an asshole.
"Shut up, Travis. You know your dad spews bullshit. No one knows anything about the virus," Ashley shot back, and Sal smiled slightly. He's glad at least he and Ash got along together. He would have never expected it.
Travis sneered, but let it go.
A sudden high pitched scream sounded from across the camp, followed by the moans of the horde. Sal heard sudden shouts from the guards and heard loud boots beat the ground as they ran toward the commotion. It was their chance.
They all sprinted to the church, and Travis carefully opened the doors, holding them just right so they didn't look obviously opened. Sal and Ashley entered the dark hallway and Travis followed, the doors shutting behind them almost silently.
Sal noticed the smell of the place as soon as the doors closed. A rotting, putrid smell. It was almost familiar but twisted in a disgusting way.
" Smell," Sal muttered. Ashley and Travis looked confused, but sniffed the air. They looked at Sal curiously.
"I don't smell anything," Ashley commented. Travis nodded with her assessment. Sal thought that maybe they were going crazy, how could they not smell that? And then he realized that maybe it was a zombie thing.
" Nevermind, " Sal said, dropping the subject.
"Where to?" Ashley asked in a hushed tone. Travis thought for a moment.
"There's a door that leads the basement in the office near the back of the nave. That's our best guess. It's huge and the walls are soundproof," Travis muttered. Sal shivered slightly. Why would Travis know that the basement was soundproof?
"Let's go then," Ashley said, and Travis nodded gravely. They walked quickly and quietly, but still, their steps seemed to echo loudly in the empty hallway.
Travis stopped just beside the doors to the nave. Sal and Ashley tried to walk past, but Travis was quick to stop them. Ashley opened her mouth to speak.
"Shh," Travis whispered, and they all listened. Ashley's eyes widened, as a booming voice shouted from inside the room.
"How the FUCK can a horde of zombies just walk into this place without being spotted from miles away!" The voice was deep and nasty sounding, and Sal realized at once this was Red Eyes. The man even sounded intimidating.
There was a mumble of an answer that none of the three understood before a loud slap echoed throughout the church. Travis backed away silently, looking around wildly. He nodded toward an unmarked room, and Sal and Ashley nodded. They quickly entered the room, just as they heard, "I don't care for your excuses. Go kill them all," and a squeak of shoes against wood floors. They all watched as...oh fuck, Sal thought, was that Barnes , exit the room quickly. Sal couldn't believe it. The man that had almost killed him was now fleeing from the room as quick as he could.
They all heard more footsteps and they tensed. Red Eyes' began to whistle, and the chilling sound was terrifying.
He walked by the room that currently held the trespassers. He stopped for a moment, and Sal felt his heart stutter in his chest. He began to walk again, arms crossed behind his back, neck tall and pale, lips pursed and whistling. He was gone.
Sal took a deep breath. He felt the tension drain from the room. He turned and faced the two humans.
"I'm not going down that basement," Travis said quietly. Both Sal and Ashley looked at him in surprise. Travis glared at the ground, hands in fists. He seemed to radiate anger.
"That basement holds evil. I'm done with that room," Travis muttered. He looked up, and Sal was shocked at the tears that threatened to fall in his eyes. "I did my part. Y'all are on your own." He shook his head, and left, his footsteps echoing as he distanced himself.
Sal looked back at Ashley. She looked dismayed, but not for long. She clenched her own fist and looked at Sal determinedly.
"Let's go get them back."
Sal and Ashley entered the nave. It looked for all intents and purposes normal. But Sal could feel it, feel the presence of something dark and disturbing.
"Fuck," Ashley murmured quietly, and Sal knew she could feel it too.
They walked along down the aisle, and it only grew more and more viscous, that darkness. Soon, they were at the door. Ashley reached for her pistol, swallowing loudly. Sal opened the door.
The dim light of the nave barely penetrated the darkness of the basement. It was pitch black in there. So black you wouldn't be able to see your hand right in front of you.
"You ready?" Ashley asked. No, Sal wasn't. He was terrified of what he would find down there. He nodded, at a loss for words.
They descended the stairs.
When they reached the floor, Sal was surprised to see that there was actual light down there. Green lights flickered on and off minutely, giving the whole entire room an eerie feeling. There were two doors at the end of the hall.
Sal and Ashley looked over each one. They were both identical, brown and unassuming. One lock adorned each door.
"Which one?" Ashley wondered aloud. Sal shrugged, and thought if picking by eeny meeny miny moe was inappropriate at a time like this.
" You know what they say, always go right, " Sal muttered. Ashley laughed dryly. Sal didn't think it was that funny.
"And who says that?" Ashley mused, and they both knew they were stalling. Sal shrugged. Ashley sighed, "Right." They walked to the chosen door. Ashley looked over the lock before bashing the end of her pistol to it, and it fell to the ground, useless.
"Zombies first," Ashley muttered half-heartedly. Sal rolled his eyes but placed his hand on the doorknob. It twisted easily.
Ashley physically gagged at the sight. Corpses littered the room, or at least pieces of them. A head here, a leg there, piles of them. It was nasty. The room was cold as ice as well, and Sal thought that maybe it was some type of walk-in freezer/room hybrid.
"Oh fuck," Ashley grimaced. Sal shut the door. Well, not door number one. At least they knew what Red Eyes did with the bodies.
Sal waited as Ashley recovered. There was nothing in that room except for body parts. Which means that Larry and Todd were next door. If not, then they may have just seen where they ended up. Sal felt queasy at the thought.
Ashley gripped her pistol, and the second lock fell as well. Sal took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Larry's scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Sal almost keeled over. He thought he'd never smell it again, so alive and not rotting. Larry was alive. He wasn't dead.
Sal entered the long corridor, Ashley walking behind him, pistol ready in her hands. The corridor opened up into a giant room, and Ashley gasped behind him.
It was a huge room, boxes of food, ammunition, guns and other weapons, and clothing dotted the area. In the middle, chained up to the wall, were Larry and Todd. They both seemed unconscious.
They were both dirty, weeks of dust caking their skin, hair, clothing. The clothing on both of them was cut up and draping around their frames in loose pieces. Lacerations that were barely healed crisscrossed their bodies. Sal could see bruises on Larry's chest and face. Todd was sporting a giant black eye, and his glasses lay smashed on the floor, the glass bloody. They both looked weak and starving. Sal felt as the tears that dropped from his eye were caught by his mask.
"Well, lookie here!" A sudden voice boomed from behind them. Sal and Ashley both locked up, frozen as a hand landed on either of their shoulders.
"You two have caused so many problems for me!" Red Eyes trilled into their ears. His grip tightened bruisingly on their shoulders before he fell away from them, walking forward. He whistled lightly.
Seeing Red Eyes in the light was startling. He was tall, and so pale, as if he never saw the sun. His face was twisted in some sharp way, eyes so deep brown they looked black and Sal wondered how so many people could trust him. He looked hellish.
"I am happy to speak with you finally, Sally Face," Red Eyes murmured. Sal flinched as his name was dropped from Red Eye's mouth.
"How-"
"How do I know about your name? How do I know that you're really just some stinking corpse that decided to have a consciousness? It's simple really. I questioned and Larry answered," Red Eyes said cheerily. "Well, of course, first I had to cut into him. He screamed so delightfully. But alas, he was silent about you. When that didn't work I hurt Todd instead, and boy did he start spilling. All about his little side freak of a friend, Sal Fisher."
Sal swallowed back his disgust. Red Eyes sounded so… so chipper about it. It was disturbing.
"Why? "
Red Eyes laughed. "Why do you think? I was curious. How could you, an undead motherfucker, go on without eating flesh. Larry had gushed on and on how you were so human, more human than I could ever be, and it struck a nerve. After all, I thought I've assimilated well enough," Red Eyes frowned, and Sal had a sinking feeling deep within his soul.
The smell that Sal had noticed. It was...permeating from the man. Sal sniffed and bit back a gag. Red Eyes smirked.
"Yes, now you know why I keep the others back so much. Why I can't let any of you near me. I've evolved," he said proudly.
"What's he talking about, Sal?" Ashley whispered. Sal shook his head, not believing it for a minute.
"Oh, Ashley, haven't you guessed," Red Eyes spoke, and when he blinked, red, carnel jewels stared at the both of them. "I'm not alive."
Sal closed his eyes tightly, feeling nausea roll through him. This was fucked, beyond fucked. A zombie was the leader of a survivor group. A zombie that looked so much like a human, spoke so well...it wasn't possible.
"Now, you both might be wondering how, and since I won't let anyone leave this room alive, I'll spill my secret. I'm the original." Red Eyes confessed merrily.
"I don't remember my past life much, to be quite honest. All I know was that I woke up in a hospital room with an insatiable urge to feed. Eat everything in my way. Well, you know how that ended. But, I kept eating, and soon I realized the more I ate, the more I began to resemble the walking meat sacks I craved. You are what you eat, after all."
"What the fuck," Ashley whispered, staring wide-eyed at the zombie in front of her. Sal shook his head, shaking all thoughts out of his head except for one.
" Why Larry? Why Todd?"
"He challenged my authority. They both did in fact. It's just sprinkled on top that I got to meet you. Though, as one of my own, I am disappointed. This fast you've been on...disgusting."
A noise interrupted whatever Red Eyes was going to say next. Sal felt his heart spike as Larry's head rolled to the side. His eyes opened up, and they were bleary and unfocused.
"Sally Face…" Larry murmured, voice hoarse. Sal hoped it wasn't from screaming.
"Hey, Larry Face," Sal said softly, and he tried to move toward him, Red Eyes be damned, when the zombie in question tsked in mock agitation.
"Look at you. You're weak, boy. Hung up on love for what's supposed to be food!" Red Eyes' cackled. Sal tried to ignore him, but a flash of a knife stopped Sal in his tracks. It was lined up with Larry's throat.
"Don't move, boy," Red Eyes cautioned, voice a sudden deep thing that rattled Sal's bones.
"Now, I bet a weak thing like you just needs some encouragement," the man mused, and suddenly smiled.
The blade flashed in the air, and Larry screamed in pain. Ashley cried out, but Sal barely heard it. His focus zeroed in on Larry. His arm was bleeding, and Sal thought briefly that he never thought that so much blood was in a person, and that maybe losing it wasn't such a good thing.
"Lookie, Sally," Sal trained his eyes on Red Eyes, or more specifically, at the piece of flesh in his hand. His mouth watered at the sight of it. In his other hand laid the knife, glinting with blood.
"You want it? Or maybe you want the knife. I'll let you pick" Red Eyes promised, laughing. Sal's head pounded. He knew he shouldn't. He knew that he should attack Red Eyes because he was holding out his knife too. Take it and stab him in his head. But…
"Sal, don't please!" he heard Ashley scream, but it sounded so far away. He took a step closer. His hands rose up, unlatching the mask on his face with careless precision. The mask fell and dropped to the ground. Red Eyes nodded encouragingly, "Good, Sal. Give in."
"This
is
who
you
are."
The zombie gave a deep growl and snatched the flesh from the man's hands. A cough made it look up from it's meat. It's vision tunneled and all it could do was focus on the human looking at it with dull eyes.
His lips moved, but the zombie couldn't hear what he said. The undead being could feel something in it's brain, something that screamed NO to it, told it to stop, but the hunger smothered the doubt. The undead soul didn't recognize the man in front of it.
Sal bit into the flesh.
Chapter 07: never break the chain
Sal opened his eyes, frowning. Clueless was playing on the television. Larry was sitting next to him, spread out to cover most of the couch. He was also slowly but surely spreading onto Sal too. The zombie rolled his eyes at his friend.
" You're so...annoying ," Sal muttered. Larry turned, smiling gleefully at Sal. The TV washed him in bright a bright blue color. His eyes sparkled in happiness.
"You still love me," Larry taunted playfully, and Sal grinned lazily, looking at Larry unbiddenly.
"Yeah, " he admitted near silently. The truthfulness of it shocked Sal to the core. Yeah, he loved Larry. A blatant fact. Sal felt his cheeks burn. "I love you. "
Larry didn't even look surprised. He just looked so happy, so familiar with the phrase. As if Sal has said it before, said it tons of times before.
That, among anything else, is what caught Sal off guard. No, this didn't seem right. He never admitted any of that to Larry.
"Shh, it's going to be okay," Larry murmured, and he moved, laying his head down on Sal's lap, and the action felt secure, normal. Larry yawned. 'You're safe here."
Sal nodded shakily. Of course he was. Larry was here. Larry wouldn't lie to him.
"With you, it's okay ," Sal voiced. Larry grinned up at him.
.
.
.
Ashley believed that hell had opened up in Nockfell.
The grip on her pistol was shakingly loose as she screamed to Sal, begged him to make the right decision. Red Eyes stared vindictively down at Sal, a hungry glint in his own eyes. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. Sal was stronger than this. He had to be.
Ashley turned her gaze to Larry. Larry, who was chained to the wall, screaming bloody murder, desperate to stop Sal. He was so pale, too pale. Ashley had enough experience in the field to know that Larry wasn't looking good.
"Please, Sally Face, listen to me. I love you, please don't do this," Larry sobbed, tears leaking from his eyes. Ashley waited, hoping and praying for something, anything. Sal's eyes were dead. They didn't register anything Larry said.
Sal bit into the flesh, and Ashley jumped into action. As Red Eyes roared in laughter, Ashley pounced to Larry and Todd, quickly bashing her pistol where chain and wall met. She let them both down easily. Larry was whimpering, and Todd...Ashley felt his neck. She released a sigh of relief. A weak pulse beat against the pads of her fingers.
"Ash…" Larry moaned out quietly, face screwed up in pain. Ashley was quick to rip off the sleeve of her shirt, bandaging it tight around Larry's wound. He choked back another scream.
"It's going to be okay, Lar Bear," Ashley murmured shakily.
"Sal…" Larry uttered and Ashley's heart broke at the inflection in Larry's voice. Larry looked into Ashley's eyes, and the woman stilled. Ashley had never seen that amount of brokenness in a set of eyes. It looked as if Larry has already died.
Ashley looked away, and she set her sights on Todd. She bit her lip for a moment and steeled herself. I hope he doesn't get mad at me, Ashley thought. She slapped Todd in the face, hard.
"What!" Todd jumped, eyes jumped and unfocused as he tried to see in front of him. His eyes squinted at Ashley.
"Ash?" Todd asked, and Ashley couldn't help but grin.
"Yes, Todd. I've got you," Ashley promised, dropping a delicate hand onto Todd's shoulders. His face broke out into a nervous grin.
"What about Red Eyes?" Todd questioned, and Ashley's blood went cold. How could she forget she turned her back to their biggest threat.
Ashley turned and gaped at the sight in front of her. Red Eyes and Sal...they were fighting. The noise filtered back into her head, as the adrenaline ebbed for a moment.
"You little shit! What the fuck are you!" Red Eyes screamed in anger, throwing Sal off him with a huff. Sal's body skidded on the ground for a few feet. He got up mechanically. His entire mouth was scarlet with blood. Larry's blood. Ashley shivered.
Sal growled, something deep in fierce in his throat. Sal's body was quick and he attacked Red Eyes with fervor, screaming terrifyingly the whole time. Red Eyes looked shocked, to say the least. Ashley wondered briefly just what Red Eyes created at that moment.
Sal launched himself, throwing himself onto Red Eyes, biting into the neck of the original zombie. Red Eyes screamed.
"You...runt," Red Eyes hissed out. He reached and grabbed onto Sal again, throwing him on to the floor with a resounding slap. The concrete floor cracked. Sal didn't get up again.
Red Eyes began to laugh again, manic and insane. Ashley leveled her gun to his head and shot.
Red Eyes stumbled, and Ashley was kind of proud of herself, but then Red Eyes steadied himself, shaking his head mildly. Horror settled into Ashley's gut.
"You really think a little bullet can stop me?" Red Eyes grinned sarcastically. "I am more powerful than any fucking gun."
Ashley backed away as Red Eyes moved. Shit, they were fucked. Two very unstable zombies versus two malnourished men, one bleeding to death and the other basically blind at the moment, and a woman with a gun. That apparently doesn't work on big, overpowered zombies.
"You know," Red Eyes taunted, "I usually store my food, but I may splurge. After all, it has been a stressful night." He licked his lips, and Ashley drew her gun again, shooting him in the chest. Red Eyes laughed. "Hmm, that one sure did tickle!"
A sudden shriek filled the air. Sal was back on his feet, and Ashley swore she didn't even see him move. He was a ghost. One minute kneeling on the floor, and the next behind Red Eyes. Ashley's mouth dropped open as Sal gave another inhuman scream before plunging his hand into Red Eyes' chest.
Ashley saw the zombie's reaction. His eyes widened, flickered red and deep brown. Blood pooled out his mouth. A squelching sound followed soon after. Red Eyes keeled over. Ashley realized why.
Sal had taken out his heart. Blood to his elbows, Sal bit into the heart, moaning quietly. Ashley didn't take another second looking. She turned and heaved both her friends up. Todd groaned while Larry whimpered again. He was staring at Sal, distraught and pained.
"Sal, please," Larry begged in a hushed whisper. It seemed to echo throughout the room. It was ignored.
"C'mon, we have to get out of here. Who knows if that's the last of Red Eyes," Ashley urged. Larry shook his head, weak. "Please Larry, you can't help him. He's gone," Ashley tried. Larry shook his head.
"No."
And before she knew it, Larry pushed himself away from her with surprising strength. Ashley was already off-kilter with Todd, so she could only gape as Larry shuffled over to Sal. Sal, who seemed to be almost done with the heart. They were running out of time.
"Larry," Ashley hissed, "he's gone !" Larry only shook his head again.
.
.
.
Larry thought if there was any way to die, reminiscing and talking about Sal seemed like a good way to go. Red Eyes wasn't very generous with food. It was only a matter of time. But, the more he talked about Sal, the longer he got to live.
"Sally Face," Larry began, placing his hands on either side of Sal's shoulders, The zombie looked up growling at the interruption. "I know you're in there, Sal." The blue eye that stared at him was murky and unfamiliar, the exact opposite of what he was used to. He missed the lively blue eye, one of the only things that were able to clue Larry in on Sal's moods.
Larry had believed that his feelings for his zombie were disturbing at first. How could he feel this way for an undead being? But, Sal showed time and time again that he behaved more human than most people Larry knew.
"Sal, I know this isn't you. You have to fight it. You have to live," Larry continued, tears falling down his face. Sal had to hear him, had to snap out of it...Larry smiled, but it was wobbly and tentative.
Sally had done countless of things. He watched movies with Larry. He listened to Larry. He took care of his cat. He argued. He laughed. He got angry. He cried. He breathed.
"I can't lose you too, Sally Face. I won't allow it. I love you too much for that," Larry vowed. Sal continued to stare, unmoving. And then his face screwed up, mouth opening, angry and red, and Larry closed his eyes. He wouldn't fight Sal. He couldn't. A shot rang through the air.
No matter what. Larry knew that deep down, Sal's soul was human through and through. And he loved it. Loved him.
.
.
.
" Sa...I know...in there."
Sal frowned as the words echoed in his mind. They were staticky and barely understandable, but Sal knew that voice.
"Did you hear that?" Sal asked the human below him. Larry looked up at Sal, confused.
"Hear what?"
Sal's frown grew even deeper. He knew he heard something. He tried to shake it off.
Larry seemed to notice the uncertainty because he slowly got up, before settling himself around Sal, bracketing his legs around Sal. Sal's eyes widened. Larry toyed with the straps of Sal's mask. Sal could only watch as Larry unmasked him. There was barely a flinch, but Sal saw it. His heart hurt.
Larry kissed Sal. Sal's eye widened at the act. He had never been... oh but this felt good. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste of Larry on his lips. Even if Larry seemed weary of Sal's face, he didn't act like it.
" Sal, I know… fight it… live…"
Sal frowned into the kiss, but Larry pushed in, tongue licking into Sal's mouth. He moaned, but Sal felt like...he wanted it to stop.
" Can't lose you...I love you too much…"
Sal gasped into the kiss, the connection in his head strengthening enough. He pulled back, "No! Stop," Sal demanded, breaking the kiss forcefully. Sal opened his eyes. Larry looked terrifying. His face had gone sheet white, eyes black as pitch.
"You could have lived in peace," Larry snarled out. Sal flinched back. This wasn't Larry...was this…
was this even real?
The first thing Sal registered was the pain. He gasped and realized that he was lying on a cold floor, and the pain was centered around his chest. He lifted his hands to it and they came away bloody. Or maybe they already were bloody? Tears fell from his eyes.
"Sal!" A voice shouted, but Sal could only groan in pain. Fuck, it was too bright in here. Wherever he was.
"Stay away from him," another voice commanded and the tone was like steel. Sal shivered involuntarily.
"Fuck, Ash, why would you do that!"
"He was going to kill you!"
"Now he's...he's bleeding. Oh, fuck!" Ah, so it was his own blood.
A sudden shape blocked out the searing light. Sal blinked and his eyes focused. A man was staring over him, blotchy eyed and pale. His brown eyes were deep with sorrow and Sal's heart clanged in his chest.
"Please Sal, say something," the man murmured, and Sal realized Oh! that was him!
"Hmm, you're pretty," Sal responded, because, man, even looking so disturbed, the dude was rocking it.
"Sally Face, holy fuck," and then Larry laughed wetly. "It's gonna be okay, Sally Face. Just don't go to sleep."
Sal opened his mouth, not really knowing what to say. "Larry Face," Sal ended up with, and just like that, he remembered. Remembered who this precious human was. Remembered where he was. Remembered what he had done. "Oh, Larry Face," Sal repeated, and this time he meant it. The bitter taste in his mouth burned.
Larry smiled, "You're back."
Sal tried to nod, but it only made him dizzy. Come to think of it, he was getting colder and colder too. The chill of the concrete floor wasn't so cold anymore.
"I think I'm dying," Sal confessed and Larry's face seemed to grow even paler.
"No you aren't," Larry argued. But when he tried to pick up Sal, he could only scream in pain. What the fuck was wrong with him. Tears fell freely.
"What happened?" Sal asked, because wow he really checked out for a moment.
"You killed Red Eyes and ate his heart. I...I think you're human, Sal," Larry explained, and Sal felt like laughing in the face of such a big cosmic joke. Which he did. It hurt his lungs. His functioning lungs apparently.
"I don't want to die," Sal whispered brokenly.
"You won't."
That was the last thing Sal heard before his consciousness finally slipped.
Sal opened his eyes up to darkness. His chest still hurt but in a contained kind of way. His mouth was very dry.
He tried to get up, but the pain sizzled when he moved even slightly. He groaned and settled himself again. That's when he realized he was in a bed. A bed that was so comforting. With nothing else to do, Sal fell asleep again.
The next time he opened his eyes, it was bright. He looked around his surroundings, realizing that he was in a sparsely decorated the room. The only decoration to speak of was the cross above his bed.
The window was open, and he could hear the light breeze. It was a cool day out, and he was happy about it. After so many terrible days of just blazing heat with no reprieve, it was a welcoming change.
He looked down and saw that his torso was bare, but gauze wrapped around it snugly. It was pristine white. Sal looked over and noticed his mask was sitting on top of the sheets. He felt a great sense of panic at the sight of it. He hadn't even noticed before...and Sal thought of how Larry, the real one, not the figment of imagination his brain tried to create, didn't look away, back down in that basement, where he was off his rockers. He didn't look away.
Sal broke down into sobs.
Sal was just securing the mask back onto his face, hands tangled in his hair (which as washed, holy shit , someone washed him), when the door opened. Larry stared at him with wide eyes.
Sal took the moment of silence to regard Larry. He looked better, but still way too thin, way too pale. The dark bruises were fading to an ugly yellow color, and the dark purple bags under his eyes were stark against his pale skin.
"Sally Face," Larry greeted, a ghost of a smile on his face. He moved forward, sitting on the edge of Sal's bed. He looked disgustingly overwhelmed. Sal felt the same.
"Hi, Larry Face," Sal murmured, and fuck, he was still very thirsty, but it felt good to talk. Felt natural for once.
"You're awake," Larry noted, and Sal nodded. Larry seemed a bit in shock, looking over Sal as if he wasn't real. Sal didn't feel real. He thought that maybe this was another dream.
"What happened?" Sal asked because it was still a bit fuzzy. He knew he went off the deep end, knew that Red Eyes was dead, knew he was shot.
"We got out. Everyone survived. Todd recovered startlingly quick. Kinda blind as a bat until we can find him new glasses. Ashley is… gone. Took her motorcycle and said she had to be alone for a while. I can't blame her. She wished you a fast recovery, though, and sincerely apologizes about the whole… shooting you in the chest thing."
Sal shrugged it off, "Can't really blame her. It was a fucked up situation." Larry nodded, but Sal could see it was forced. His mouth was set in a thin line.
"All it took was that meat room for all the rest of the survivors to believe us about Red Eyes. Oh, and something about the fact that all the zombies somehow turned back," Larry suddenly smirked, and Sal was shocked. All of them?
"How?" Sal asked.
Larry shrugged, "We really don't know. Todd thinks it could have been a curse that spread through bite. Kill the original, save the rest type thing."
"Holy shit," Sal exclaimed.
"You saved them, Sal. You did it," Larry murmured, looking soft. Sal smiled behind his mask. '
"You don't smell good anymore," Sal sighed. Larry looked shocked, before throwing his head back to laugh. Sal blushed, "I meant...smell...uhh." He was so embarrassed.
"Wow thanks," Larry said sarcastically, but he still had an easy-going smile. Sal smiled back, the reaction hidden by his mask.
"You know, I miss your face," Larry mused. Sal tensed at the confession, staring at Larry with wide eyes. Larry shrugged, "What? At least I could read your expression more easily. You know how hard it is to gather your emotions just by looking at your eyes. Plus-" Larry stopped for a moment, and Sal watched as a flush of red crept up Larry's neck, "the mask kind of ruins the post-near-death experience kiss trope."
Sal giggled nervously. Holy fuck, did he really just giggle ? Apparently. "Oh uhm, I…" Sal trailed off when Larry looked back down at him again. His eyes were glinting, a warm amber.
"Don't worry about it," he assured. Larry leaned down and kissed the side of Sal's mask. Sal felt like he was positively burning.
It was good. He felt human. And maybe the world was really fucked up right now, but none of that mattered, not now. Not when Larry was here, safe, warm, and alive. Not when Sal could breathe in peace, could feel his heart beating, could feel the blood pumping in his veins.
Sal feels warm, and loved.
