Mike- Molossia

Nobuyuki- Nikko Nikko

...

Don't look at me; it's a Halloween special not a whenever-I-feel-like-it special. I did plan to start updating this sooner though.

...

Well this week sucked big time.

Mike grumbled to himself in his bed in his now empty room corner, about how his back throbbed and squeezed at his ribs and lungs and twitched and stung. About how that pain probably wouldn't go down for a long while even after his surgery- or should that be especially. About the back brace he'd been forced to wear for years before this, the one that the other kids pointed and laughed at. They'd spread so many rumours about that thing and what it was 'really' used for, pushed him in the corridors and pulled at his shoulders because they knew it would hurt, mocked him and it cruelly in the changing rooms, that it was no wonder there was now probably more citalopram in his bloodstream than actual blood now. In all honesty, Mike had hated his brace before he'd even set foot in school- holding his crooked form together before him in the mirror-, and the comments his classmates made had firmly cemented his self-esteem right at the bottom of a pit of hatred.

But at least he wouldn't have to wear one anymore. Unfortunately, Mike was well aware that recovering from having a metal rod inserted into his back would be painful as shit, moreso than the current pain in his back. But he'd get through it, with maximum complaining.

As if his day wasn't bad enough, Alfred was running late. All he'd asked his brother to do was get him a drink, and maybe a little snack from the cafe. Really, how hard could it be? He knew Alfred could get distracted by every little thing, but this was ridiculous.

And Alfred didn't let much get in the way of caring for his brother; he'd been fussing over Mike ever since he was first diagnosed, years ago when they were both little screechy kids constantly getting into scrapes. At times, Mike detested his brother's overbearing nature, but deep down he liked being looked after. It made life that bit less terrifying.

He'd like his brother's company now. His entire ward was devoid of any staff, and he'd like some reassurances from Alfred that everything in the rest of the hospital was running smoothly, not to mention he was a big baby and scared of having his back sliced open. The handful of other people in the ward were getting restless, some groaning in pain and Mike wondered why they were being neglected like this. His back was starting to twinge now.

And just when things were getting hopeless, there was Alfred. Out to save him, like always.

Except it seemed more like he was playing a little joke.

Just where Alfred had found the makeup to do his face up like that was a mystery, probably the Chemist downstairs. But he'd not been gone nearly long enough to have had time to paint himself like that. And his arms too. The boy had even ripped up his t shirt for this joke.

Such a shame Mike wasn't at all impressed. He didn't like being scared, even for a split second, and Alfred knew this. Oh boy was he going to get a telling off.

"You're not funny," Mike growled, huffing and folding his arms as his brother hobbled over. He wasn't scared. Not at all. Man he fucking hated zombies and other nasties.

"Oh fuck off," he spat as Alfred drew closer, trying his utmost not to crawl out of bed, run away, and give the guy the rection he wanted.

And that was why the unfortunate young man lay back and did nothing as what had been his brother pounced and began to tear him apart.

Luca wasn't too sure why he was still running.

He was going to die anyway, right? A desperately ill boy, hopelessly lost and quickly running out of energy, that wasn't the recipe for survival. Where were the exits? Where were the other survivors? Were there any?

He should've stayed with the others in his ward. Safety in numbers, and all, though they were probably still trapped in the psychiatric ward. Getting eaten alive. They were all probably dead. Luca could well believe everyone in this hospital was now dead, and he was the only one left. Hundreds of zombies versus one boy? Those were shoddy odds, even to someone who didn't have a maths degree.

The corridors were deserted, save for pools of blood and organs, and Luca would've thrown up at the sight, had there been anything left inside him. The plain white walls all looked the same to him, and he had no idea what floor he was even on anymore, or where on earth the exits were. He was close to collapsing now. Luca had never been built for long distance- or any exercise- but now, when he'd more or less ruined his heart, all he wanted to do was drop to the floor. He was dizzy. He was going to be sick. His heart was struggling to hold on, beating like a war drum and pulling at his lungs, but it wouldn't go on for much longer.

Just as he came to the conclusion that he was dying, and there was little point in running, really, he heard footsteps just around the corner, coupled with heavy, laboured breathing. This was it. They'd found him.

Time to die.

He fell to his knees in surrender, hands in his lap, eyes closed and trying his utmost not to flinch or squirm. It would be quick, but most importantly, it would be inevitable. The footsteps stopped just before him, and his face crumpled and screwed up in anticipation. Unsightly. He was about to be murdered, after all, so he ought to look his best.

"Who's the kid?" asked a gruff voice.

"Mister Morgens?"

Luca opened his eyes to find two of his doctors- Dr Angel and Dr Chen- along with a dishevelled pair of patients, staring down at him in amazement.

Oh perfect. Real people to see for themselves how cowardly he was. On the other hand, he quite liked not being dead. "So there are other survivors then?" he muttered out in response.

"We're making a run for it," Dr Chen didn't bother asking him where his family- or the other psychiatric patients- were; no need for it. He appreciated her for doing it, nonetheless. "Care to join us?"

"I would probably slow you down," Luca admitted. The palpitations in his heart were almost unbearable now, screaming at him through his chest.

"I'll make sure you keep up;" one of the patients- the big blond adult- pulled him to his feet, patting him down roughly before gripping his hand. "Mathias Densen; I'll be your guide through this hell."

Angie rolled her eyes at that. "Yes, now come on before those monsters find us again."

...

Nobody was left in the paediatric ward, save for the children themselves.

They didn't leave, or try to run, because they didn't know what was going on and knew not to go wandering off on their own. The nurses and doctors were all missing, door shut, kids left inside to huddle in a far corner as the door thumped menacingly, not knowing what the growls meant but collectively deciding it couldn't be good.

All except two, that is.

Franz Edelstein was dangerously ill, but no one was left to notice, save for the little boy in the next bed, who had been his companion throughout his stay in hospital.

Honda Nobuyuki crawled out of his bed, dragging his drip behind him to try and wake his friend. A seven year old couldn't understand what a coma was, so as he tried to shake his friend awake, he assumed Franz was just playing. This wasn't time for games. There was something scary outside, and they needed to hide before it came in.

But Franz didn't wake. He never would.

...

Just for your own peace for mind, Mike's feelings towards his scoliosis aren't entirely mine. I mean it gives me self-esteem issues but not at Mike's level, in case anyone was worried about me projecting onto him.