Disclaimer: All characters belong to Fresh Tv. I own nothing.

~A/N~ Well, I figure that it's about time to get back on this. I wasn't really getting into it, but I know quite a few of you like it, so I just want to get past the early bumps in the road and get to the meat of the plot. Without any further interruption, enjoy!


Life Goes On: Chapter 4 - Shadows


POV: Jasmine


(Day 14)


The lights of the bunker go out and leave me in darkness, cramped into a small room without a light. Shawn is outside the door, frantically slamming into it in an attempt to get in, but I'm too shocked to let him inside.

Everything has changed. Until now, I was playing along with Shawn and his far-fetched zombie drama, but after he built the radio and I learned just how wrong I was, everything in my mind had been flipped upside down; topsy-turvy: games to survival, prison to shelter, laughs to pain and misery. My life was different from now on. It might never go back to simpler times. I'm not ready, but Shawn is. Seeing him so gleeful about the end of the world is so surreal.

"Jasmine! Open the door! Please!" He bellows commands at the top of his lungs as I stay still, crouched in a corner with shivers running down my shaking body.

"You have to open the door!"

I remain quiet, but my mind wants to cry out for help, as if my will to speak had been shattered by my fears. It's never happened to me before, the alien feeling. I've always been so bold, but now I'm a victim; a survivor.

"Jasmine!" Shawn weeps. "Please!"

The darkness has blinded me and my paranoia has been taken to a whole new level. The calm, quiet bunker, mixed with Shawn's pleas and screams is truly bone chilling.

"Listen!" he stutters. "If you need light, there are glow sticks under the bed inside a survival pack! Do it! Now!"

I try to heed his word and move my arms a bit, but it's helpless at this point. Getting hit with the end of the world isn't exactly welcome with open arms. However, I do manage to get my foot out from my crouched body and shove it under the bed. It touches cloth and I push it in deeper to try to hook the sack with my leg and pull it to my side.

"I got it..." I moan quietly as I pull the back to my side and search for the zipper with my trembling digits.

"Good!" Shawn cheers. "Now look in the left side, bottom pocket for a bag of sticks about eight inches long!"

My hand traces the edges of the bad until I find a pocket. I'm not sure if it's the one but I open it anyways. Something's inside, but it feels like gauze or cloth. I toss it aside and quickly search the next pocket. I feel my hand touch plastic and I pull it out: a bag about eight inches long. I weep tears of joy and fear as I rip it open and snap one of the sticks inside. A small glow fills my hands and in time expands to light my corner of the bedroom.

"I- I did it!" I weep happily. "I got them!"

"Nice!" Shawn replies from outside. "Now hurry and open the-"

Suddenly, the sound of clanking metal shatters the dead silence and Shawn gasps as a hiss fills the air. My boyfriend screams a deathly howl as something smashes against the door one last time.

"Shawn?!" I cry out. "Shawn!"

The sound of footsteps approach the door and I pause in dread. I hear whispering from outside the bedroom and then the silence returns. Using all my willpower and whatever strength my legs possess, I stand up and slowly make my way across the dark room, illuminating as I go. My shallow breathing invokes panic in my heart.

When I finally reach the door, I grasp the doorknob as best possible and take a deep breath to calm my wild, hyperactive nerves. My hand turns with the knob and the door squeals before hitting something in the way. I look down and see Shawn's arm on the floor, still attached to his shoulder.

I gasp and push the door open, leaning down to embrace him. However, the act is short-lived. Something smashes my face and I fall down, the pain in my nose fading as I delve into unconsciousness.


I slowly open my eyes as the throbbing in my head peaks. My vision is blurry and I close my eyes instinctively. I gain my sense of feeling in my body and feel around. I'm not on the ground anymore, as far as I can tell. I touch something cold and hard: wood.

It's now that I sense the tightness around my belly in the form of a metal cable, evident by its coldness on my midriff. My eyes open again and I can see somewhat clearly now, but not perfectly.

Something warm touches me and I gasp in shock as Shawn groans from behind me. I try to vocalize, but my throat is sore from dehydration. All I can do I croak inaudibly.

By now I can tell that we're still in our bunker, albeit tied to chairs, back to back. I look around and see a lantern sitting on the kitchen counter with the shelves above it stripped of food. The floor is littered with trash and cutlery that reflects the glow of the lantern, the only light I can see from my limited position.

Something shuffles in the hallway and I pause as someone moves by the kitchen, stopping to peek inside. I try to play dead, but the person spots my movement.

"Hey, Jake!" he shouts in a deep voice. "The bitch is up!"

Another set of footsteps approaches the kitchen. Another man chuckles. "Well, well, well. Look who's up an' runnin' at this fine hour!"

The man reaches out to me and pulls me into the light of his own lantern. I get a good look at his face. He has brown hair that is shaven to nearly nothing, a gruff, tired face with a few wrinkles, and stained teeth from years of smoking. His breath makes me gag a bit as he smiles a few inches from my face.

"You've been out for quite a while," he says with a shit-eating grin on his face. "I can't wait to get to know you a little more... personally."

The creep factor of the man sky-rockets and I begin to growl, but he grabs my face and squeezes my lips together.

"Now don't go an' get angry. Everyone learns to warm up to me eventually. Sometimes all it takes is one... kiss." He leans forward and attaches his lips to mine as I struggle in my chair to break free to no avail. His mouth and tongue survey my own, allowing his stench to penetrate my nose and cause my gag reflex to kick in.

He breaks the kiss of death and smiles, licking his lips. "Maybe we should take this somewhere more private, huh?"

I want to spout out the most vile, perverse, and strongest verbal attack I can, but all I can do is growl and snarl in anger. I've been violated and the only thing on my mind is bashing the man's face in with a rock.

"Nah, I'm playing," he grins. "I ain't got time for you... yet."

"Hey," the other man taps the pervert on his shoulder. "You said I had first crack at her!"

"Well, I changed my mind," he snarls back. "Plus, I'm only reason we got this place to begin with."

Th smaller man shakes his head and leaves the room. The other man, Jake, looks down at me and smiles a wicked grin. "Don't worry, pup. I'll be back soon."

Jake walks out of the kitchen and I let the tears flow. My space has been broken and I couldn't do anything about it. Even Shawn, who's still out cold, couldn't do anything about it, but suddenly he stirred.

"What..." he groaned. "What happened?"

"Shawn?" I whisper through my croaks.

"Jasmine, you're okay!" he gasps.

"Quiet," I hiss. "They... caught us."

"What? Who? Where are we?"

"The bunker... bandits."

Shawn sobs. "No. No, this can't happen. I prepared forever and now... it's wasted. They had to have... cut the power."

"They're... bad."

"I can tell."

Silence follows.

"What do we do?" I moan.

"I don't know," he answers.

For the first time in two years, Shawn is clueless. He's always had some wacky solution to any problem we faced, but now we're both in the dark on how to overcome this. If Shawn is drawing a blank, that means it's not looking good for our lives at this point. I keep crying and gasping for breath, each movement of air stinging my throat like needles.

A hear more footsteps approach and turn to see a young man much different and younger than the other two. His head has been shaved like those of the other men, but he has a small tuft of hair on his chin and a rather blocky face.

"Sup," he says.

I glare at him with Shawn doing the same.

"Tough crowd, I guess," he chuckles, leaning against the doorway. "You might want to get used to that setup, babe. You might be in that chair for a while. The same for you, hipster," he says, pointing at Shawn.

The young man looks familiar, but I can't put my finger on his name. I know I've seen him before, perhaps on television, but I'm drawing a blank.

"Yeah," he yawns. "I'm not like Jake and Bobby. I have places to be, you know. They don't even care about their lives. Just goes to show ya' how pedos are born, huh?"

I growl at the man and he smiles. "But hey, Papa Duncan has his integrity."

Duncan. I know him now. The finalist of Total Drama Action and the strongest player in the history of the game. A fellow veteran is standing before me and Shawn and I gasp.

"What?" Duncan asks. "Ya' recognize me or something?"

"You," Shawn says.

"Uh, yeah. Me."

"The Duncan?" he asks again.

"The one and only," the delinquent says with an arrogant tone to his voice.

Well, maybe we might have to chance after all. A familiar face is always welcome, even in the darkest of times and places. We might have a chance. A chance to break free.


~A/N~ Well, that happened. Also, Duncan's here! Sorry if these chapters seem short, but I just can't make them that long. Anyways, review if you liked the return of this story and tell me what I need to improve upon, because I'm still not in the groove if you catch my drift. :P