EDIT: So there was this one review on how paranoid Felix was and it bothered me. A lot. Like, I woke up this morning and was like "Welp. I'm going to fix this before posting the next chapter" and that's what I did. So, yeah. The ending will be a bit different now.
A/N: Oh my goodness I feel incredibly guilty. I had this chapter done a day after I posted chapter 1 and didn't get around to updating it until three months later! That's ridiculous! I would blame school but that is only half the reason.
Anyhow, this is chapter two. Cry is not the only youtuber. Not at all. Hence the POV of this chapter.
Also, there is Swedish in this and I apologize dearly and with all my heart for if it's wrong. That's why I didn't use it too much. I was afraid to anger any Swedish speakers out there.
I'm thoroughly disappointed with this chapter... but you guys deserve a chapter right now. I know you all do. You deserved it three months ago!
(Oh and thank you guest for the review :) it made my day!)
I don't own the youtubers, games, or references mentioned.
Chapter 2: Disbelief
-Felix POV-
"Felix," she whispered with fright and I bit my lip as I tried to soothe her. Tried being the major word here. Tried being the best word that could ever fit this fucked up situation.
This was not even how this was supposed to be. It was supposed to be this amazing event with all the surprises and smiles that an event could create. It was supposed to be the best ever in existence, or at least for a specific friend of mine. This strewn catastrophe of disbelief and terror was definitely not in the contract. It wasn't in our plan. It was nowhere in any of the conversations used to discuss it.
In some other reality, I would be just getting ready right now. In some other better reality I would be smiling and laughing at these silly American cartoons. I might have been dressed casually or so preposterous that my friend would recognize me easily and without a doubt. I might have brought the newest games or some other present to make it the best birthday ever. I might have done a lot of things if this didn't happen.
If hell didn't come knocking on each individual doorstep with a personal fuck you to boot.
Rubbing soft circles into her back, I attempted with all the tranquil air I could muster to not relay the shivers coursing through my nerves. They were running on adrenaline. They have been running on adrenaline and I don't see it draining anytime soon. My nerves were shot and on fire with every espresso like substance out there. Race cars and Sonic would have nothing to my jolted body.
And yet it had to be concealed. A mask had to be pulled over my own cold-blooded terror to pacify hers. No wait, not a mask, a full on body suit because if my expression didn't give it away I knew that my body sure as hell would. I was battling my own fears with her but I couldn't show them. Not because of weakness or strength but because if I were to express my absolute anxiety, she would know immediately that something was wrong. She would be even more frightened and in situation like this that's good for only one thing: getting us both killed.
Neither of us wanted to die at this moment. I mean, who would want to die right now? Who would want to die prematurely ever? It would be practically destroying what sense of rule we had to experience our lives to the fullest. We had full lifetimes to endure with all sorts of (hopefully good) surprises to make it all the more interesting! This circumstance was deliberately refusing us to live any longer if we couldn't adapt to what was handed to us.
And it was handed to us. It might as well have been served on a silver platter with a little pristine note of "Best of luck in whatever afterlife you follow!"
Still, none of us could have been prepared for this. It just was not normal to have this occur. It could have been from some sort of miscellaneous ordeal of some idiot with too much power or even an idiot with the right amount of power and the wrong type of material to be in charge of and I still would not have expected this to ever happen. It was too surrealistic and didn't feel like it belonged in reality.
Reality sure brought up its infamous surprise attacks, eh?
No, this wasn't time to make any humorous thoughts. This of all times wasn't the time to make those sort of notions. Right now I was to be calm and tranquil. Laughing at some absurdity in this moment would only make her feel a lot worse and even more scared. She would think I lost it! I know I would think I lost it.
As a result, she would lose it. She wouldn't lose just her mind, but her faith in me as support and any self-assurance that she would survive.
At this moment, if I couldn't calm her down, we were going to die. I was willing to do anything to keep her safe but it was impossible without a strategy or a weapon of some sort. Like carrying a spoon to a gunfight. No, not even a knife, a spoon. It would be worse than that.
Imagine walking up to a… dead corpse per say and only having your bare hands and personal experience as a weapon? Let's also say that you are physically lean and skinny with little to no significant muscles to speak of? Even more, let's add in a fact that you are mostly interested in your own self-sacrifice to save someone else rather than to save your own skin. Your survival rate just decreased to less than one percent. In fact, it might as well be zero. You wouldn't live. You need a weapon and whether that would be scissors or an AK-47, it was better than your own nails and skin.
Even if you had a weapon, if you didn't have a clear head and stable hands to support the said weapon you were still screwed. So many factors contribute into your survival. Too many factors. And our current scenario multiplied it by a tenfold.
Our location didn't make our odds any better. We were as successful as cornered black rabbits trying to burrow ourselves in snow while in the hungry eyes of a wolf. God that analogy brought shivers and goose bumps across my skin. Odd because I thought they would already be there. I mean, this was a situation where such actions would be actually reasonable to have!
The fear of death was heavy in the room. Its stench clawed out between the cracks of my resolve and I clenched hard to avoid it getting any further. I was just too fucking scared.
Always so scared. My mind kept flitting from reality to video game pretense and back. It kept creating similarities. It kept adding fears to my list. Even now I couldn't concentrate! This whole position felt too much like Amnesia when I would hide from the bro and while avoiding its gaze so I wouldn't go insane or get caught. I'm fairly sure if this was that game, I would be well on the floor cringing from the insanity of this fear and cowering.
God, scary video games. This was almost a real life deja vu moment to every single one of those and I could feel my heart rate rise with every moan and grumble, every slip and leer. If games were to be recreated into reality, this certainly wasn't one I would have picked. I would go back and erase that order. I would put in Flappy Bird or some other absurdly addictive game that wouldn't end in our death and ultimate demise!
But I couldn't go back. I wasn't a time traveler. I was only human and being mortal scared me more than anything. The fear of not getting a reset and a save station to restart at after a game over.
But I was better off than the trembling woman next to me. The apprehensive woman being Marzia, the girlfriend I now regretted bringing with me.
Marzia had never seen this. Marzia was not used to this drastic change or these altered scenarios like I would be in video games. For Marzia this was probably ten times worse, no wait a hundred times worse, than what I thought of it. She's never played the games I did. She's never faced the foes I have. She hasn't overcome the obstacles I have in learning the tricks a maneuvers of most if not all horror games. Overall, she wasn't accustomed to this.
But I was. I was used to this so I had to work extra hard to keep us both safe and alive. I had to be her anchor much like my bros were to me in the land of pixels and animations.
We were currently huddled in our hotel closet, watching as the person – corpse? – in front of us continued to roam throughout our room. It moved painstakingly slow, dragging its feet in small shuffles across the carpet. Blood stains and raw skin were staining the once white floor. Each step sent a vibration through its creaking bones that resulted in waterlogged skin peeling off like a second layer. The person – a she? – walked throughout the entire suite with a searching, dead gaze and I prayed to whatever God out there that it wouldn't smell us.
Marzia was quivering terribly (or was it me?). A leaf in the wind couldn't compare to the shivers she was trying to hold in. Even through my embrace, I knew it didn't do a damn thing to calm her. I couldn't blame her. We didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to do. This wasn't like the Walking Dead game I finished so long ago. I wasn't as strong, as profound, as Lee was. I was weak and a coward. Clementine was braver than I was. When she held a gun and, depending on your choice, shot Lee, she did it even though she was frightened and mourning. She did what was supposed to be done.
A gun did rest in my hand right now, but I didn't use it. It stayed bouncing in my palms, a full round loaded.
But I didn't shoot a single god forsaken bullet.
I watched the zombie closely, trying to catch minuscule glimpses of the walking corpse thinking of leaving. Minutes passed by but with as shallow and quiet our breaths mingled and the tense atmosphere suffocating any bravery, it might as well have been hours.
A time of some amount trickled down and the zombie still didn't move towards the door now hanging on a hinge. It remained shuffling through the room with no objective and I realized that if I wanted it gone I was going to have to act myself. But that would not only risk myself but Marzia. I didn't want to lose her. I didn't want her to be lost to this disease that seems to have affected the entire world.
Because she was like a beacon right now. The only living being that was keeping me from hyperventilating out of control and tensing up.
If she was gone… I wouldn't know what to do.
Perhaps I would actually lose it like I denied earlier! Maybe I will steel up and become apathetic although that is all fucking unlikely due to my personality. I had better chances of getting down on my knees and praying in a mob of zombies than becoming that cool and collected.
Marzia was my anchor like I was hers and she didn't even know it.
So I sat there huddled in the closet, watching a zombie that didn't appear to be leaving anytime soon. I was hoping for a miracle I knew wouldn't appear.
Miracles. Yeah right. There was no such thing as spontaneous miracles. There was no such thing as luck. There was only chance and decision, facing the music and plugging in your earbuds.
Hope was a stingy and stubborn emotion though. It still dripped into my veins and coursed through my heart.
I was just waiting for Daryl to show with a crossbow in tow. I wouldn't be surprised at this point.
The beginning of the long night was more surreal than this after all and nothing could compare to that.
It started with the power going off at around midnight. Marzia and I assumed it was just a shortage or maybe the breaker decided to malfunction. We waited for half an hour but no one came to our room to see if we needed help. No staff came out to relieve us of our fears. No words of comfort were exchanged. That was probably the first time fear and terror struck us like a knife stabbing the same wound over and over.
The first scream rang out around 2 am. Yells and more screeches followed. Banshees were outside and I couldn't distinguish people from monsters. Even then I was trying to be optimistic in what the horror could be. Maybe it was a robbery. Maybe a murder had occurred. I didn't expect Armageddon to come skipping into town like some child with flowers. Telling Marzia to stay I decided to check it out. I assumed it was a prank to add to the list. Couldn't be anything else really.
When I looked out it was clear how wrong I was. This wasn't a prank. How could it be? Unless Americans are ridiculously good at this sort of thing and are able to get an entire city at that point, this was definitely not a joke. Not even remotely close.
Outside the door was a person standing in the hallway. The lights were out but the emergency light still blinked in and out. A red hue became potent on the walls before fading the black. It made the person look like a severely altered silhouette. I caught glimpses of the person but each glance only made it so much worse. Flesh was falling off. Movements were erratic and unnatural. Everything spelled the impossible.
I couldn't force myself to look away.
It got worse from there. More of the dead appeared. It was like this suite was a beacon of fast food for them. Foreigners and natives being the main course. They saw me and made their way towards our room in limping movements. When they reached the door, they pounded and growled out guttural noises too beast like to possibly resemble the humans they once were. I tried to keep them back but when it was clear they would come in this room anyways, Marzia and I hid in the closet. As a last thought (and a good one), I grabbed the gun.
And that's where we were now. Where we have been for the past few hours. Drenched in sweat and incredibly thirsty, we didn't even so much as whisper if we could help it. Silence and shadow was our best friend all of a sudden when we once feared it. Our fears were friends and our friends were fears.
We were lucky though. Day break was moving in and it seemed that the corpses were biologically given a call to move away to a darker area. They sluggishly crawled out of our room and into the hallway. As of now, I don't think any zombies were actually in the building period. Well, beside this one. The only one that decided to linger right now because it seemed to not get the message.
Meaning I would have to put it down.
I froze briefly and Marzia looked at me then at the gun in my hand. Understanding shone in her eyes quickly despite the situation at hand. She nodded to me as if telling me to do it, but I was afraid. Afraid for her. Afraid for me. Just afraid. Always so fucking afraid.
What if I miss? What if it gets to her? I don't get a do over for this. I don't get a chance to undo what I will undoubtedly screw up. There was no green life shroom to help me fix my mistake.
Laughter and girlish screams were not going to save me this time. Humor might as well be placed with going to a gunfight with a spoon.
This was why people watched me in YouTube. For my personality. And for a while that was okay. Looking scared in the camera and knowing nothing would touch me in real life. That was all okay. I was free to act with ignorance and the cries of a child. Even if that wasn't fully me. It was for the Bros after all. I didn't want to disappoint them.
But those fears were true now. I couldn't just brofist the fucking zombie and hope for it to disappear when I blinked because that wouldn't happen. I wasn't safe behind a computer screen. Not anymore. I didn't value it then, the safety and security, but I missed it now.
A lot.
But a particular proverb stuck in my head. I don't know why it came now. Perhaps to help me through my stage of distress? Either way, it echoed soundly in my mind and left a feeling of serenity in my body.
"Anfall är bästa försvar." To translate it into better terms, the best defense is a good offense.
I was the stronger of us two. I couldn't hide behind Marzia and I wouldn't hide behind her. Defending her was my priority. She was my priority.
"F-Felix…" Marzia whispered hoarsely. Looking up, I noticed the zombie getting closer and closer to us. Maybe I made a noise or perhaps it just smelled our fear. It was too late to cower now.
It's steps were heavy and they had direction. This room. This small cramped space. Between the gaps of the two crooked closet doors I could see it look straight at me. Right in my eyes. It was so direct I noticed the enlarged pupils narrow to slits in animalistic hunger.
A growl erupted from its throat as it lunged towards the closet doors, clawing as I held them closed using nail and force. Marzia was inching away as far as she could, tears streaming down her face. I was surprised when she didn't make a sound.
And I just sat there watching her. Really. That's all I did.
Wait. What the fuck am I doing? I'm her boyfriend and I'm not even pulling out all my stops to keep her safe. I have a gun. I have bullets. Why am I not using them when it's clear we need this? She shouldn't be scared if I have a way to lessen it.
God I'm such an idiot.
"Jag är så jävla dum," I cursed to myself as I adjusted my hold on the small pistol I had in my palms. It was heavier now that I had a purpose for it. In all honesty, I brought it in case something were to happen when Marzia and I went out during our vacation in Florida, but it seems that wasn't meant to be. Now I have to use it to kill a person because in a switch, life was turned from living to survival of the fittest.
I double checked the barrel of the gun to make sure it actually had ammo. Now that I think of it, I probably did it just to procrastinate what I had on my shoulders.
The gun made a small click as I locked it on where the zombie's forehead would be when it opened the door. Claws were echoing into the enclosed space as nails were driven down. I waited, sweat rolling down thickly from my brow. Those growls seemed ever closer. I was nervous, unsure, and afraid. The zombie wasn't. Not a good mix when shooting was a priority. I just hoped my bad shooting from video games didn't follow me into real life. I really really hoped so.
I released the door. Hands aching at the joints from holding onto it so tightly.
At last, the growls turned to grumbles as the corpse's fingers gripped between the doors on accident and began to tug. I sighed and took one glance at Marzia's shivering form despite the heat consuming us.
Fright. That was the theme now wasn't it?
In this world, fear was going to always be the message. It was going to be the theme. It was going to be the word that we try to get out. Fear was the word to describe this but it was up to us on how we interpreted that.
I expected the zombie to take its time opening the door and it did, humanity gone and the information on how to open doors with it.
I counted down.
3…
2…
1…
The zombie lurched at me and I yelped as the gun went off twice. I almost screamed when the zombie landed on me. Closing my eyes tightly, I awaited its teeth to sink into my throat. I anticipated death to come in a blink of an eye. I waited and waited but nothing happened.
Everything went silent for a moment. A pen could drop and it would sound like an avalanche.
"Felix? Are you okay?" Marzia whimpered.
I struggled under the dead weight of the woman corpse and groaned as it didn't want to move. God this looked heavier now that I wasn't some gamer pressing buttons. It weighed a fucking ton.
After a few minutes of Marzia's pleas and my groans and attempts at comfort, I managed to get the body off of me. It slid disgustingly and left a trail of blood and other human bits all over my attire. I didn't mind it too much but I probably lost any chance at getting a hug from Marzia.
Panting heavily, I looked at Marzia and she cowered back. Right. She doesn't know if I was bitten or not.
"Hey," I spoke softly," you don't think I would leave a pretty woman such as yourself in this mean ol' world, did you?" I grinned and she sighed, grinning back. It lasted a second before faltering to worry.
"The… mark?" She spoke with uncertainty.
I pulled my shirt down from the collar and exposed my shoulders to her. Both of them. After her quick check over my condition, she seemed happy. That's good. I wouldn't want her distressed. The only thing that is good for is ruining you.
Actually there are a lot of things that are good at getting you killed now that I think of it. Maybe I should make a list.
Anyhow, I already know the cake topper to its words.
Anxiety. That was like a death sentence in any scenario like this.
But so is bringing anyone you love according to The Last of Us.
I reached out to hug her but she cringed, pointing at the expired bodily fluids that stained my shirt. I rolled my eyes at her decency. Of course she would want to remain clean and mostly pristine in this situation. That was very Marzia.
But that wasn't me.
"As If I wouldn't hug you simply because I'm dirty. Come here woman," I laughed out as I pulled Marzia to my chest. At first she was tense, getting used to the stench that covered me, but then she relaxed and returned the embrace. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
The hug was real and I think that that was what I was needing this whole time. Something to say that this wasn't some horrible nightmare and actual reality. It doesn't get any more real when your lover hugs you and you can feel their beating heart and warm skin against your own.
If this is reality though, then I have to prepare the one person dear to me. I have to make her understand the reality I just comprehended. That shouldn't be too hard. I'm the thickest headed person I know. She should be nothing.
Backing away, I looked at Marzia with a stern face. She looked puzzled but I hushed her before she could question anything. She had to listen. That was all I wanted her to do.
"Marzia," I spoke, holding her by the shoulders. She remained silent but I knew she was hearing my every word. She was always a good listener. "We have to leave here, this room. If we stay here we will die of starvation or infection and I don't want you to go through that. I don't know how this spreads. I don't know if it's permanent. I don't know a lot of things so I need you to listen to me because this is important. Very important."
She nodded.
"The world out there? It's not like my video games. Do you remember the Walking Dead? This isn't like that. It's different and I need you to understand that because the sooner you do, the sooner we can adapt," I sighed and looked at her slightly worried face, "You're going to see things. Horrible things. Things I wish you would never see. Dead people? Zombies? It's only the tip of the iceberg. I don't know what we will see. I don't even know what we will do but I need you to promise me that you won't let fear control you. For the sakes of yourself as well as I. I will protect you till the end of my life, but you have to help me." I watched her expression, pleading with her. She blinked slowly and then nodded, a shaky smile on her lips.
"Okay, Felix. Okay I promise." She leaned in and kissed me on the lips softly before standing up. Surprise was definitely in my thoughts. It went as easily as I exaggerated and I'm not sure if that is a good thing. Nonetheless, I followed suit and we gingerly walked around the corpse on the floor. It was definitely dead. Well… more dead than before.
As a final, sad thought, I called out to her, "Marzia."
She turned and faced me.
"If it comes down to it and I do get bitten. If I do change or is in the process, I will need you to shoot me right in the head," I pointed to my forehead with a bitter smile. "Like in the Walking Dead. If… if you get bitten, I want you to tell me. Please tell me."
Marzia blinked slowly and I could catch the faint glisten in her eyes.
"Okay. I will."
I let out a sigh of relief and smiled and she reflected it quickly.
We walked to the bed where our suitcases still lay. Clothes were strewn out across the beige comforter, some folded some not. Marzia didn't hesitate in giving me two shirts to put on: a long black sleeved shirt with a grey short sleeve on top. I slipped it on quickly as she changed from her stunning sundress to skinny jeans and a grey tank top with a dark blue hoodie. She pulled her hair up into a hair tie and grabbed her bag, emptying all the contents on the bed with everything else.
"Until we find a bigger bag we will have to use my purse, yes?" She asked me cautiously as I gave her a weird look. I blinked quickly before nodding. She was right. She didn't look like she wanted to be but she was right. For once I was glad that she loved large purses. Didn't think they would ever be useful.
She continued packing the necessities. A shirt for each of us, some snacks we snuck aboard the plane, and some deodorant. As an afterthought, she gave me my laptop and my phone.
When I took the laptop, I stared at it while she stuck her own phone, the exact same as my own, into her pocket.
"Perhaps… you should write about this. You know. In case this ends and people wonder what happened, right?" She smiled at me and I chuckled.
"Yeah but who would listen to a Swedish guy who was a has-been on YouTube? Doesn't give me much validation not to mention that I have nowhere to charge this," I pointed out and she rolled her eyes.
"It's better than nothing. If anything, we can go to some sort of electronic store. They must have laptop batteries or generators, right? Also, I'm sure those people won't care whether it was a four-year-old or an old man. Besides," her gaze got darker, sadder, "we can use it to write about every person we met and knew at one time. So nobody would forget them…"
I didn't reply, simply humming in agreement. What do you say to that? Nothing was a better response than actual words.
Within five minutes we were ready to leave and out the door, me in front and Marzia behind me. Our movements weren't trained to this lifestyle but we still tried. Practice as they say and I'm glad it was just that. Marzia didn't seem to have the hang of it yet. She was stiff and unsure while I was languid and nimble, used to this environment. I wasn't as accustomed as video game characters or TV actors, but I managed to pull it off well. I guess old habits die hard.
Silence was a common aspect in the world now. No birds were chirping and not a breath of air was whispering past the trees. It was quiet and I didn't like it. I needed ambience. I needed something to break this wall or paranoia will certainly grow.
I didn't express this to Marzia. Less worry. Less fright. Less of a chance of being killed.
I looked around, opening every door to make sure no walkers resided in the rooms. When it was clear that none were in the building - or at least down this hall - I motioned for Marzia to follow me. She did with worry very evident. I wanted to console her, tell her everything was going to be alright, but that would be a lie. I wasn't a seer. I couldn't predict the future but I could assure her that everything was not going to be fine. I just stayed quiet and offered a halfhearted smile in her direction.
We moved silently until we reached the first floor, the view of crashed cars and dead bodies clear for anybody who glanced outside the once beautiful entranceway. Marzia tried to appear like she wasn't fazed by this but I wasn't fooled so easily.
Appearing by her side, I grabbed her hand and she squeezed back tightly.
"I would love to tell you it gets better… but…" she shook her head slowly, cutting me off.
"I know. I just don't like it. I mean, what of your parents and my own? What of our friends? What of Ryan?" She had a point. I didn't have a clue on how Cry was, especially since this all happened. I'm sure the cell towers are down along with any inkling of internet. We were in the dark and I was worried that he might already be gone…
'Don't be ridiculous,' I thought ignorantly, 'He's Cry! He's an amazing gamer like I am and even better! I'm sure he is already prepared for this as I speak. Nothing to worry about.
I paused.
"Felix? I found a gun…" I heard Marzia shout and looked around before finding her behind the receptionist desk. When had she let go of my hand? When I was worrying over Cry?
"Is it full?" I asked and then added after, "Actually, can you hand it to me? I don't think you would know much of this."
She tossed the gun and I caught it with ease, checking it. I sighed in relief when I noticed only one bullet had been used. Granted that was one less that I could have used, but still. It was better than nothing. Definitely. No complaints here. I honestly didn't expect to find one at all.
"Any ammo back there?" I questioned and she looked at me oddly. "Um... a box that has these cylinder things in there?" I tried to draw it and failed miserably but she got it anyway. Going through the stuff behind the desk, she pulled up a few boxes that were definitely ammo boxes.
Praise the holy duck for this miracle.
Wait what?
Where was I?
Right. Boxes. Catching them.
I caught the boxes with ease when she tossed them in my direction and I inspected them further, very pleased when they were for the gun she presented earlier. The odds of that happening were slim to none. I was glad that luck was still in my favor. For now.
When Marzia came to meet me, I placed the ammo in her bag but kept the scarcely used weapon on hand.
Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my smaller gun and gave it to Marzia, briefly showing her how to hold it, where to pull the trigger, and how to aim. Three bullets were gone, leaving two, but she shouldn't have to ever shoot that thing unless it was one of those rare occasions where I wasn't near her. That would be never.
The world was cold and the bodies even more so. I didn't want her to join them. Not when I am here capable of protecting her.
Anyways, she looked at the gun like it was a grave, sad lines creasing her face.
"Only use it if you're in danger." She didn't reply. Perhaps we should leave before she gets too sad. The outside world should help her mood.
Actually, no. It wouldn't. Even outside I could see bodies and death lingering above like whispers. She would still be sad. The only thing I could do was to allow her to get used to it. It would take a while but I will suffer with her gladly. The sooner she is adapted, the sooner we can move on.
"Ready?" I prompted as we aligned with the entranceway of the hotel we stayed at.
"I... yes. I'm ready." I rose my brow at her hesitancy but she walked ahead of me, the sign she didn't want to tell me what was on her mind. Well, I wasn't going to push it. At least not now that she has a gun. God women are scarier enough. The weapon just adds that fatal wow factor… that I so didn't request.
I followed her slowly and lazily, taking a brief moment to value the scene since no zombies hoarded the area.
I don't know what I expected when we walked out. I wanted it to be like the Last of Us where it was beautiful apocalyptic atmosphere and scenery along with danger, but this was the beginning. It was still going to smell of a mixture of city fumes and salt water. Trimmed grass was not going to overflow in waves and retaliation. Safe havens wouldn't exist. At least, not now. Maybe later in a few years.
Would I even be alive that long?
'Ah, pewds. Don't think like that. Could get ya killed you know.' Ryan's voice echoed in my head and I smiled, shaking my head slightly and going on with my landscape assessment.
But no, this wasn't beautiful. There was nothing beautiful about this sight. It was gruesome and revolting and, at the very most, depressing and hopeless. Bodies were strewn half eaten or full of blood and bullets. Decapitated walkers were very little of these. Cars were in various forms of accidents ranging from pile ups to ramming the bumper. School buses and cabs were in utter disarray and abandon.
It was a scene of death. A sight that the reaper would be ever so proud of.
And I felt, for some stupid reason, that I should have done something to stop it all. I felt like this was my fault. Even though it wasn't. Even though I knew I couldn't have done anything to improve this situation or prevented it from ever happening. I still felt that way and it was like a mosquito in my skull.
Ugh.
"Felix?" I blinked and looked at Marzia. She was pointing somewhere and I followed her gaze to see something I didn't expect this early on.
Perhaps a few blocks down, a man was walking and I could easily tell walker from ordinary. I couldn't tell much besides a green jacket and a backpack, but it was still something. It still looked human. Hopefully it was.
"Should we go meet whoever that is?"
I nodded, "Yeah. Just stay behind me and out of his sight until I know it's safe." I will protect you until my last breath and if you die I won't be far off.
Because Marzia is my life right now. Besides my friends, who I have no idea are alive, she is the only one that is certainly breathing with me right now. Cry, Ken, Minx: They might be dead or alive right now.
I really hoped that they were out there surviving.
And most importantly, not alone.
Because people who are alone have no one to rely on and end up dying with no one to remember who they were before all this.
Like a tombstone with no name.
EDIT: So I lied. I didn't really fix the ending. I just kind of fixed paranoid! Felix a tad so he wasn't completely jumping to conclusions. By the way, is it sad that I became a fan of my own story? No lie. I have it on my fanfic app and I read it, forgetting I wrote it, and I was like "Damn it! Why haven't they updated? *sobs*" and then I read who the author was and wanted to kick myself so yeah. Carry on.
The Swedish that wasn't translated immediately after is (hopefully) "I'm so fucking stupid". I really hope so.
I'll try for another chapter soon. ^^ It might be out sooner if I get some readers or favorites and all those goodies. :)
Ciao~