So hi everyone. I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to update this story. I know I've neglected it, but I think now I have a better idea and plan of what I want to do with it. Hope you guys like this update! Warning: Story contains, boyxboy, heavy violence, death, dark themes, mentions of abuse, swearing and ratings may be turned up at a later time.

Adults always tell their children that their are no such thing as monsters: There's no such thing as the darkness that is under the bed, there's none of the shadows that lurk in the corners of rooms or that pass by your window.

Parents are so good at telling lies. They lie so well that eventually even they come to believe their own truths.

It is quite powerful how self belief can fuel someone. Belief that they are not in a world where they are the most powerful. A world where they are ants beneath people's feet. Humans... they are the smallest of creations. The think that they are supreme? Well there's just one problem with that.

There are creatures. Creatures that walk the surface of this world. Belonging not to the light as humans do, but to the darkness, the only thing they know is death and death is all that knows them. They hunger eternally for us. They hunger for flesh. They see no distinction, any more than a animal would. Bust most cruelly to us, they wear the faces of those we love. Those who love us. Those we remember. Those we long to forget.

They are the ultimate weapon.

After all, how can you truly ever win against something which can weaponize the dead.

The sound of rain outside hammering against the metal framing of the warehouse was all that the two boys could hear as they panted for their breaths, soaked through to their skins. Their lose fitting clothes hung off their frames and both looked ready to collapse but only surveyed their surroundings with curious and keen eyes. The raised but small windows above them howled and rattled loudly in their frames, the glass of which was cracked and looked ready to give in.

The air stank of rust, just like the old steel hinges which looked ready at any point to give way and collapse. The only light which was available came to them half an hour later when one of them dug out a lighter and smashed open one of the wooden crates around them, using it to coax warmth into their bones and with the aid of the cold moonlight outside, some light over their faces.

"We seem to have hit the jackpot. God knows we just seemed to have to leave our own country to get it."

Slowly Michael sat down with a grunt and a sigh against a nearby pillar, his body soaking in the warmth of the fire as he glanced around, his mind always not comfy with what was around. The years had aged him, his dark eyes looking ancient and exhausted in the low flickering light. They seemed out of place on the sixteen year old's face. They looked like the eyes of an old man, weighed down with pain and thoughts of the reality that they were trapped in.

His shirt was still plastered down to his chest as he was still regaining his breath. The air felt thin in there, like the walls around him were closing in. His face was slick with sweat and gleamed with it, even as he brushed the grime off it and lent back in his position to make himself more comfortable. Gazing across to the small pendant which was connected b a few silver chains around his neck. He knew he didn't have the strength to open it. Well, physically he did, but should he have opened it, he knew that mentally he wouldn't be able to handle it.

The years had been rough to him. He had watched them all in horror, never able to reflect on them for too long for fear of the fact that it would destroy him. For two years they had managed to stay alive still in their own country. Him and Raffi, that being. They had been carried out of London in the main exodus and flee for safety. When people realized that their own country wouldn't help them, everything had gone to hell.

But the exodus hadn't stopped at London.

England was a small place, especially when the dead outnumbered the living.

But hell had followed them eventually.

"It's funny, you know... you're a hypocrite." A voice softly whispered.

Michael said nothing but only shed his dark jacket and threw it on the cold concrete floor next to the fire to let it dry out. His jeans were soaked through still but he didn't care at that point. His mind was else where. He just ran a hand over his buzz cut hair and through the stubble on his neck and chin. His eyes eventually raising enough to look at the boy sat across from him.

Raffi had grown surely. The color running free of his hair, his figure like Michael in their hungry state was twig like and underfed but neither cared particularly about their appearance. When you fought for survival on a daily basis, you forgot about such things as vanity. The appearance that humans so based their every day life around became nothing but a commodity, especially to either of them.

Unlike Michael who always went over his hair the knife that he kept attached to his belt and always sharpened. Raffi hadn't cared about his hair much, it had grown out in a shaggy mess. Just touching the bottom of his neck, it had grown into a wild unkempt arrange of spikes and cover of a fringe on his head, touching down just bellow his right eye. His skin was pale, touched by the many days and the long amount of time he and Michael had spent in hiding over the course of the years.

He was curled up at the edge of the fire, with his arms wound protectively around his knees, his chin resting on top as he stared half at Michael and half at the fire. His eyes were fierce and piercing, like a knife straight to the soul. After all, over the years, with the few amount of people that they had encountered, Raffi had found it become more an vital talent to be able to read people. To understand them, to see what was going through their minds before they themselves even had the time to realize they had thought it.

A talent which had saved his an Michael's asses on more than one occasion.

The boy wore a white shirt which had been tore at the arms so it resembled much more of a vest now than anything. His hands absentmindedly played with the wrist band, which was all that he had left of his friend. Five years had passed and yet not a day went by where Raffi didn't forget the events of London. Remembering the feeling of being sprayed by the blood of a hundred people. The feeling of the fire and the sight of it as he had watched his friend killed in the park.

"You would look down on me for trying to remember Harry... but you don't even have the balls to look at that locket, let alone think about your best friend!"
"Exactly." Michael stated, his eyes taking a more stern strictness to themselves suddenly. "I knew him far more than you did." He stated coldly then turned his gaze down. "We were ten. The world went to hell and everyone with it." He said quietly, though there was a cold growl to his voice as he raised his gaze up slowly. The boy's eyes were impassive and closed, impossible to read except for what he willingly let the other boy take from his expression.
Raffi just sneered.
"He died. Harry died and became-"
"How the hell do we know!"

Michael sat back and his eyes became a little sad as he looked over at his friend. "He died Raffi. He was claimed in that fire and smashed against a tree. What ever is left of him out there, is far from alive. It's been five years-"
"Five years and in all that time we never went back to look for him! You're wrong-"
"On the contrary. I was ten years old when I started fighting for myself and for you. For five years I've kept us alive, so I do believe that I must be doing something right." Michael stated smoothly. "Besides, Harry was already injured on that night, please do tell me, even if he managed to survive that fire and the explosion, say that the concussion he would have gotten afterwards didn't kill him either. Please tell me, after him having injured his leg? How would he have been able to survive that night?"

This was always what happened between the two of them.

Whenever they brought up the other member of their trio, it would always end up going to-

"BLEAGH!"

Both boy's immediately snatched out their hands for the knives on their belts as the metal on the walls groaned. Grasping fingers smashed through the glass above them and echoes of hisses ruptured through the air around them.

Chaos. Raffi finished the thought bitterly. His exhausted body barely even having the strength to rise.

Both boys had been running for two days, with little time to sleep or rest, they hadn't allowed themselves to stop except only when needed in the most direst of situations, and still, here they were, entrapped by the hell which never seemed to be but a corner away.

"Damn it." Michael growled, rising to his feet quickly, his fingers curled tightly around the handle of the knife as he watched the hungry mouths gnashing violently at the frames of the windows and the doors shaking violently on their hinges.

Both knew they had no chance right now. Against one walker? Yes. One of them could distract it while the other moved around the back and stabbed it in the head. Against two? Maybe. Maybe if they were fast, agile and quick.

"Five. Six. Seven. Eight." Raffi growled under his breath as he was still watching the numbers of hands smashing through the old and tired metal doors increase. "Shit that's a freaking lot."
Michael looked between his friend and the force of an on growing hoard of the walkers which seemed to be growing by the second. His heart was screaming away in his chest, he had gotten them trapped in one place. He should have known better! He should have found a more secure place! He should have at least made sure they both got some energy back or had a plan ready just in encase!

He looked around, fear gripping his heart more firmly with each and every second. More of the windows around them were caving in, the doors were shaking more and more, the hinges which kept them up were beginning to come loose. That wasn't just simply one or two Walkers out there. No. But what had drawn them here! Normally they wouldn't be drawn by the likes of two people. It took a group of about three people in an area to get the hungry bastards going like this! Normally Michael and Raffi were fine if they slipped through by themselves!

He had to think. He had to think!
"We've got no chance! We can't take on-" Raffi began.

But then both boys froze, almost like the walkers at the window in fact.

The allure of the two warm blooded boys inside seemed to be taken away by something.

Something which must have been a lot closer than they were.

A sound like the metal being slowly and violently stripped free, being torn to pieces echoed around both of their ears filling both of them. The sound of hissing was cut off by the impossibly loud sound to ignore of flesh being sheared clean from bone. The sound of the Walker's final hiss that they always called out with before they were finished off.

Michael and Raffi both froze.

Blood and chunks splattered across the window pane causing Raffi to turn his head away and vomit as it dripped down the walls slowly. Even Michael had to pull his hand to his nose from the awful smelling of rot and decay which intoxicated the air. "Jesus Christ." He hissed, gagging on the foul smell, but keeping his guard up none the less.

Slowly one of the hands which had been at the side of the window came crashing down through the pane of glass but hung limply as the large shards stabbed through it, it's dark blood flowing freely down the cold and cracked structure.

Michael patted Raffi's back as the blond was still bringing up the little amount of contents from his stomach as the foul stench and the sight they had just seen.

the doors had stopped groaning. The metal had stopped protesting but now only stood there silent in front of Michael as the boy's eyes searched through the shadows for anything which may have been a-

He ducked just in time as an object passed through the air past his head, his voice calling out at the same point that Raffi had cried out.

Then the rogue Walker which had crept up on them through the shadows hissed out before sinking to the floor with part of it's skull painted across the large crates of wood and it's dark blood and brains splattered on the floor.

Michael's jaw hung open for a second before he turned back towards the window pane above him where the object had shot from, like a speeding bullet, but without the form, the shape or speed. But Michael wasn't fooled, the object had been fast, incredibly fast. It had came within skinning distance of his head, so close that before he had moved, he had felt the air sharply sting him around it before it had met it's target.

He only flinched back when one final roar of a slam came from the windows around him and a tree outside collapsed, crushing down over the window, blocking off what ever entry there was other than the doors now. Only one way in and one way out.

The only light left in the shadows was the flickering camp fire.

Even with the sound of thunder outside and the roar of rain, he could still hear Raffi whisper.

"What the hell was that."

Far away under the crest of the cold risen moon, a small town was cut off, watching from the comfort of it's secure borders as the storm passed them over but still the faint drizzle of rain still holstered over them. The blade of grass blew in the still faint wind as the air was still whipped up slightly with the lingerings of what had passed, the worst being gone but still they were not without it's lingering grip.

Out on the front porch of a single house the small flickering candle sat on the white washed balcony as a boy sat with a wrapped bundle in his arms. Rocking gently back and forth, hushing softly almost like the tune of a lullaby as his incredibly soft blue eye looked out across the rain and the distance as lightning illuminated it. His mess of dark brown hair came into view with the warm light of the candle and cold stab of the lightning. He stared out across the distance tree tops watching the distance storm.

"Easy there Judith." He whispered gently, rocking the baby with his brotherly love, keeping her warm in the blankets and against his chest. "Ain't nothing gonna come hurt you while your big brother is around." He promised, his voice was soft and tender as it always was towards her. A sheriff's hat rested on his head, almost like that of something to comfort him, more than anything else.

He wore a lose shirt and a pair of fresh jeans, but he didn't really care about how he looked at that moment. His baby sister's cries had woken him up from his nightmares, so he had gone to check on her. His father hadn't stirred, the exhaustion of that days scavenge seemed to have taken it's toll. He didn't mind though anyway. Sometimes coming out here and sitting on the rocking chair, coaxing sleep back into the girl was therapeutic to him, it eased him.

"Well I feel a lot more safer with you around." A voice whispered gently.

The boy barely looked up but let his eye widen slightly with worry as the thin figure of a boy slid onto the porch next to him. "God damn it Charlie, you gave me a fright! The storm got you restless? You normally come during the worst of it?"
"I found myself a little busy, didn't I?" The figure Charlie sighed in a tired but considerably different accent than the other boy.

In the dark it was hard to make out a lot of their details, spare the faint light which was cast on them from the candle.

The boy wore some tight jeans and a black shirt, his skin was warm toned but still pale in retrospect to a lot of the others around here.

Not as pale as it had once been though.

From what little light there was cast upon him, his cold platinum hair shined ever so faintly in the dark. The boy was moving slowly, heavily laid with exhaustion. In fact he looked ready at that moment to keel over from what the blue eyed boy could see. "Damn it Charlie, you went out there by yourself again, didn't you!"
"Not now Carl." Charlie stated.

Carl paused for a moment, listening to something behind Charlie's voice. He had known Charlie since he was a kid, god above. Charlie was probably the only person around spare his dad, and a few others that he had known and allowed himself to get close to. He still remembered when they had been but kids, both ten year old's out in their old camp. Back when Carl had thought his father was dead and gone. Charlie was one of the kindest boys that Carl had ever come across, the closest friend he had ever had in his life. He was someone Carl knew he could always go to and vice versa. He was protective of Charlie, that was for sure, but of course, in their situation he would be anyway, even if the world wasn't in hell. He still remembered those years ago when they had but just been kids and he had used to go and play in the woods with Charlie, well, at least a few months after Charlie had initially-

"I'm sorry." Charlie whispered, bringing Carl out of his thoughts. "I was just... I got myself a bit of a surprise out there tonight. "You forgive me?"
"Well, if I didn't, who else would put up with your little bitchy ass." He teased with a small smiling to let the boy know he wasn't trying to be mean. He slowly raised one of the large blankets that he had wrapped over himself and Judith across the rocking chair. "Now get it over here." He smiled gently, and watched the thankful tired one returned to him.

Charlie was only a small, thin thing bless him. Same age as Carl, but the boy was deceptive in his looks. His thin figure often made people mistake him that he was weak, but Carl knew better. Heck, anyone who knew Charlie after an amount of time around him knew better. But still, Carl knew the comfort the boy took. Charlie was terrified of storms and would always come to him when there was one raging.

Carl didn't mind. After all, why would he?

He felt Charlie's arm wrap around his shoulder and the boy lounge back from the spot he took on the arm of the rocking chair. His hair fell over his eyes and the right side of his face remained hidden, but Carl didn't care. He just enjoyed that quiet little moment with the boy and his baby sister. The only sound was the rumble of thunder above them, followed by the bright flash of lightning. Charlie would flinch slightly as he always did with such incredibly loud sounds or intense brightness of such a magnitude, but Carl would only just lean his head back into the arm, his free arm wound back around the boy to support him where he was sat as the two boys stared out to the storm.

But after about ten minutes and the storm raging worse, Carl couldn't help himself much more. "I hate it when you go out there alone." He said as softly as he could, pulling the smaller boy a bit closer under the warmth of the blanket when he felt him trembling.
"I know." Charlie whispered back. His voice wasn't as deep as Carl's, just a tone or so a bit lighter. But even so, Carl could still hear the trembling slightly in it. "But you don't have to."
"I worry about any poor sucker that is out there past those borders." Carl stated, turning his eye up. "You've never come back from a trip like this before...But any way, of course I'm gonna worry about you-"
"I just got a surprise. I found a couple of people out there. Two boys. They were in some trouble... I cleared the way for them." Charlie's body tensed and Carl just turned his gaze up slightly, worried.
"Should we go help them-"
"No." Charlie stated with a coldness in his voice that Carl had never heard the other boy use in his entire time of knowing him. Not ever in all the time, through the mocking that Charlie received, not in the comments that were passed to him, never, not even towards the Walkers, had Carl ever heard Charlie use such a bottomless venom in his voice which he had just done. "It's too late to be wondering out there. The storm will make it harder and it's a sure suicide mission to attempt anything before the storm clears. Those Walker's would just creep up on us and rip us apart. Besides, the boy's are safe and boxed up inside the warehouse where I left them."

Charlie's hand slowly closed into a fist.

"They ain't going anywhere, any time soon. Besides... a sleepless night in a hell hole like that... that's just the least they deserve." Charlie stated harshly. "We can go and get them in the morning with your father if you want. But I'm staying away from them, the moment the area is clear, I'm turning away. I'll stick around to keep your back, but that's all. That's all they'll get from me." He whispered, more softly with each passing word, just before he slumped into Carl's embrace and slowly slid off into a restless, haunted sleep.

Carl just sat there for a few moments, staring in wonder and disbelief at the other boy. Worry was set inside of him, he had never known in his whole time with Charlie for the boy to hate anyone. Even for those who tried to steal off them the boy would just look sadly at Carl and the brown haired boy would know that Charlie would be thinking of just how he wanted to help the people. Never had Charlie turned his back on any one, he had always been there, tried to help other.

It's what Carl most loved about the boy.

But what worried him was what could have happened which could have had Charlie angry like this? Who were these two boys?

Carl frowned slightly.

And what the hell had they done to Charlie?