So close… three chapters left… I can do it.

I would like to point out that I do feel remorse over killing off characters/ships that I know are friends' favourites. I mean, it also fills me with sadistic glee, but I'm remorseful too.

...

They did not find any zombies in the stairwell- fortunately-, but- unfortunately- there was a snarling brood waiting for them in one of the wards along the corridor they found themselves in on the top floor. The unfortunate- but thankfully larger than before- group only had time to dart past before they were noticed, following Stelios' lead as he searched for the fire exit, or anywhere to hide, really.

"Quick, in here!" he bellowed, ducking into an open, but empty, ward and slamming the door shut behind him the moment the last person had fallen in.

Stelios threw himself against the wood under the door handle, holding the thing in place so the monsters couldn't get in and keeping his entire weight on the thing, whilst the others upturned a bed to ram against the door. Other smaller pieces of furniture were added until Stelios pulled away, sprawled gasping on the floor not for the first time, looking up at Eduard leaning against the bed, just in case. He was panting heavily, reflection in the door's window telling the room the back of his head was soaked in sweat. Neither man could speak for a full minute, and the rest of the group seemed just as exhausted. And terrified.

"There is a door leading to another ward," Kim-ly commented from the back of the room, cautiously approaching an open doorway, "should we block that too?"

"That would be a good id-" Eduard's voice was cut off abruptly as a scabby hand shot through the glass and wrapped around his neck from behind, puncturing his skin and dragging him back through the now smashed window. He gave the briefest of screams, strangled like he was struggling to speak through thick liquid before being swiftly silenced.

"Oh fuck!" cried Stelios, scrambling away and more or less tripping into a standing position as yet more of the things began climbing in.

"No, we use this door to get out," Kim-ly bellowed, dragging Kuzey with her as she disappeared into the next room, the others following in panic.

...

"Érzsebét!"

It had been clear to anyone that the ex-couple had given up all will to live, but the young pair of paediatricians hadn't expected Mrs Edelstein to throw herself into a horde of snarling, ravenous zombies, not least to save the man she was currently divorcing. They'd also not been expecting her ex-husband to refuse to defend himself against her.

All Roderich could do as Érzsebét writhed and howled on the floor was try to comfort her, despite her agony and his mess of a sorrowful mind. He held her though, no matter how much she jerked away, stroking clumps of hair out and not letting go until she started snapping her teeth at his neck. Shocking green eyes now only had room for hate.

But his were full of love. And heartbreak.

His tiny, pathetic knife lay abandoned on the floor next to him, his bony knees trembling, head against the wall he's backed up against as he stared up at the remains of his ex-wife, her olive, peeling skin and slobbering tongue. Tears streamed down Mr Edelstein's face and his bottom lip trembled, the blood draining from his face even before he was dead.

"Érzsebét," he whispered now, staring up with pleading eyes. But he didn't run. He didn't attack. Didn't defend. He would never harm someone he loved as much as he'd loved his family, even if they were prepared to kill him in cold blood.

"Mr Edelstein," bellowed Carlos, "you have to run!"

Roderich ignored him.

Carlos and Alfonso had no way of getting to him. Not only was the zombified Érzsebét between them, but the doctors were rather preoccupied with fighting off the zombie that bit her, little Nobuyuki.

Érzsebét loomed over Roderich, a string of saliva landing right on his eyelid.

"Érzsebét, please..."

By the time Carlos and Alfonso had finally subdued their foe by smashing its skull to bits, all they could see was Érzsebét kneeling over a cushion of blood. When she turned around, they saw she was biting into Roderich's still heart, clutched in her hands like a peach. Below her lay Roderich, empty like an old ragdoll.

"No!" screamed Alfonso, "oh God no!"

As she stood up, Carlos grabbed Alfonso's hand to drag him away.

"We killed them," sobbed Alfonso, "we let them die!"

Carlos didn't reply. What could he say? That Alfonso was right and they'd killed the only two people left in their care?

The room the little group found themselves in was also deserted, a few wards down and significantly more barricaded than the last, at all exits. The survivors were also careful to not make the mistake of standing too close to any doors, most opting to sprawl across beds- like Alin, curled up with his little brother- or search for anything useful- like Mathias, rooting through the supply cupboard. They hadn't heard any signs of the monsters in a while, but weren't sure if the area was clear enough to risk running for it just yet. And besides, they were exhausted.

Luca sat huddled in the corner. His hands trembled as the memories of his siblings deaths played before him like a grotesque reel of film he couldn't shut off, Adriaan ripped apart, Anri devoured. And he'd done nothing. Once again he'd been powerless. He always was.

Luca wanted to disappear.

He'd lost a slipper in his escape, tiny foot freezing against the cold floor. He shivered in his pyjamas as he became lost in memory after memory. It always happened when he got too cold, and with everything that he just saw- and failed to prevent- well, he was more or less trapped.

"I think that boy is in trouble," Cheng spoke up, moving towards Luca but not daring to touch him.

"Mr Morgens?" Stelios pulled himself away from Hassan, crossing the room to kneel before the kid. "Luca, please talk to me."

"It's my fault," the boy whimpered, "my family are dead because I am sick and I am here." He pulled at his hair. "I want to die. I want to die. I just want to die." He just kept on muttering to himself, ignoring those around him as he began picking at the skin on his cheek, dry and colourless.

"I'm mad," he wheezed, "I'm mad and wrong and broken and because of that my family is dead. I want to die too! Let me die!"

"No!" Stelios growled, grabbing him by the shoulders, "stop this right now! Stop it! Get a grip on yourself because this is no time to break down!" He shook Luca, a little more viciously than intended.

"Pull yourself together!"

But Luca didn't. In fact, his face crumpled and he burst into tears, bawling into his hands.

"You dick," Mathias called, whilst Angie pushed Stelios away.

"Go sit in the corner," Mei chided as she and Angie pulled Luca into a hug, allowing him to sob in their arms as Stelios retreated to a small corner, back next to Mohammad, who regarded him in near-amusement.

"I thought tough love would do it," whined Stelios. "It's what Dr Kirkland used to give me."

"You know," he muttered, "if the boy wants to die, he could always make himself useful and lure the monsters far away from the rest of us."

"No one is acting as bait," Stelios hissed, "there'll be none of that heroic sacrifice nonsense around here."

"Even if someone really wants a way out?" the look in his eyes told Stelios he was no longer talking about young Morgens. "If they wanted to die anyway?"

Okay, time to handle things with a bit more tact and grace. "To be honest, Hassan, deep down, no one truly wants to die, and that's a fact. No matter how hopeless things seem, or how much you feel like ending it all is the answer, there will be something holding you back, keeping you alive. Fear of what lies beyond? Well that's natural. Curiosity about tomorrow? Well that's human."

"I managed, though; it's only through some cruel twist of fluke that I'm here. People succeed in killing themselves all the time. Explain that, mister doctor man."

Stelios shrugged. Way to make trying to keep everyone alive that bit harder, Hassan. "Emotions running high, substance abuse, warped sense of duty… grief. And you can't tell me there wasn't some regret there."

"I regretted waking up," spat Mohammad, "I woke up disappointed that I'd woken up at all."

"Now we both know that's not true." Stelios watched him closely, and, sure enough, Mohammad bristled with just the slightest irritation.

"I get it, you're an expert in death."

"Yet I'm still not used to it," Stelios sighed, "you think I would be used to it, given my earliest memory was death."

"Oh?"

"My mother's funeral," he admitted, hating how Hassan flinched at that, "three years old. Staring at that hole in the ground wondering why mama was being lowered into it. I can still see Hera taking my hand, telling me he'd never leave too, just seventeen and all that responsibility."

"Poor guy, getting landed with you."

"Yeah..." A cloud of melancholy threatened to overwhelm him, had he not been distracted by Kim-ly's harsh voice.

"Densen, is it?" she began, striding over to Mathias, "find anything useful?"

Mathias turned to face her, guilty eyes resting above lips sucking on an alcoholic disinfectant wipe.

"What?" he mumbled through his drink. "I saw a guy on my ward do this. Everyone should go and grab one; it might be the last drink you have."

"I'll pass." Kim-ly wrinkled her nose.

"I'll take one," Stelios sighed, squirming under Angie's glare. "What? I'm joking!" Oh, if only...

A high-pitched beeping made the whole group jump, Angie fumbling with her pager in confusion.

"It's Alfonso," she told the room before Stelios leapt up and snatched the thing from her hands.

"Stop beeping!" he shouted as he threw the thing to the floor and ground his heel into it repeatedly. That stupid noise! He knew it would be the death of him!

"Wait! What are you doing? Stop!" But it was too late. Growls erupted from one of their barricaded doors, and it didn't stop. When a hand smashed through the glass, everyone decided it was best to leave via the other door.

Stelios lead the group back into the bloody hallways of the hospital, in the general direction he remembered the fire exit being located. Unfortunately, his memory wasn't the best, having never needed the fire exit before combined with all the millions of other tidbits of information packed in his brain since. Not to mention, it was hard to think clearly whilst being chased by zombies.

He rounded a corner, only to spot a pair of familiar figures running towards them: Carlos and Alfonso, the only other survivors left in the building.

"Hey!" he called, though he'd already been seen, "turn around!"

And they did. No need to be told twice, the pair forced themselves to turn mid-run as the others rushed past them, just metres ahead of a drooling horde. And so, thirteen unfortunates had until they ran out of energy to find the fire exit, or get eaten.

...

You know, if Luca survives this, I'm not sure he'll ever recover mentally.

Also later chapters might take longer, as more and more keys on my laptop are breaking, including, up, enter and backspace. Fucking end my suffering.