— — ONE SHOT — —
The apocalypse started out like most normally would assume it would. With a lot of screaming.
The stench of iron and rot filling the atmosphere.
The failed attempts to create an antidote.
The pointless begging.
The silence.
In the end it had been the silence that had gotten to him. Maybe that’s why he was different. He knew no completely sane person would willingly throw themselves into a feeding hoard. Perhaps that’s why Sam had been turned instead of eaten. Perhaps that’s why he wasn’t mindless like the others. And perhaps that’s why he didn’t need human flesh to sustain himself. Or brains specifically. Not that he had a preference with his non-existent conscience.
All of that led up to his current predicament. It was getting harder to find food.
“The incubus was sighted on the border of Jacksonville. If there are any more glimpses, report it and then evacuate the area immediately. I repeat the incubus is near Jacksonville. Do not engage!” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose as the static crackled through the radioed message, interrupting the rest of what was being said before coming back to life with a report from a different station. With an exasperated sigh he stepped toward it, twisting a knob to shut the box up.
“Now what.” He grumbled to himself. He had been so careful to ensure no living being had seen him in the last town he had been staying in. How was my position given up so quickly? It couldn’t have been a zombie for obvious reasons. While he could still understand and speak human English, they couldn’t. They’d probably cave into their hunger first anyway. Besides that, he was the only incubus he’d heard of so it couldn’t have been somebody else, not when he was currently residing in Jacksonville like the announcement had claimed. He was stuck. And infuriated.
Wait. His eyes widened minutely at the realization. If he’d already been reported, as aggravating as that was, it meant a living human had spotted him. And while they’d likely try to escape now that the report had been made, it’d be hard. He’d chosen to travel through this town because of how large the zombie infestation was.
A smile began twitching across his face as he turned his dark gaze to look through the dirty window into the ravaged and destroyed town in front of him. Perhaps he had a food source after all. Now he just needed to find them.
It took three days to locate who had called the alarm. Three gut twisting, ragged breathing, empty feeling days where his thoughts of hunger only grew as the stabbing pain sharpened, his own monstrous instincts taking over.
The human had been a few blocks away from the northern highway exit and had likely been planning on making a run that way. There weren’t many zombies outside of cities or towns, with the fear of losing food, whether that meant feasting on their own or not. He, of course, didn’t end up getting the chance.
Sam had snuck in under the cover of darkness, weaving through the zombie mass, ducking under a few limbs before he’d reached the door and slipped inside. At that point he hadn’t been even looking for movement, just following the scent of warm blood and fear with his enhanced nose.
It was a man with deeply tanned skin and fluffy silver hair. He wore a red and yellow gaiter over most of his face and his back had been turned to the entryway when Sam first entered, focusing on neatly packing a duffle bag, a small white and black checkered backpack tossed hazardously near the window as well. Stitched on one of the duffle straps was the name Ponk.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, just listening to the heartbeat as he planned his next move, holding back from falling into a feeding frenzy just yet. Sam jumped when he was addressed. “There you are, hurry up, we need to move on to the next town.”
Panic and surprise bubbled up inside his chest before he shoved it down with a verbal scoff. “Who’s stupid enough to go out at night looking for supplies? That’s like asking to be eaten.”
The man, Ponk, turned toward him before the focused glint in his brown eyes was chased away by a horrified one. He reached down to the rusted metal pipe beside him, black hoodie sleeves rolled up to reveal his arms, covered in grease and a few scratches, with a familiar bruising above his elbow shaped like a hand.
A growl from his stomach was all it took to charge. It didn’t take much effort to dig his sharpened nails into the arm wielding the weapon and use his overwhelming strength to rip it right off of his body. Ponk stumbled back, tripping over the duffle bag and hitting the wall with a pained scream.
The rest was a blur from there.
Sam wasn’t sure why he was still lingering here. Nobody would be entering the city for a while after his position had been exposed. And while he was no longer achingly hungry he wasn’t exactly looking forward to conversing with the rest of the undead. He had no reason to remain in Jacksonville. And yet he couldn’t get himself to leave. Something had tethered him here.
He snapped out of his thoughts as the sun reflected against the glass to blind him and he rubbed at his eyes with a quiet grumble under his breath. It took a moment to realize where he was. He scrunched his nose as he gazed up at the building where he’d taken down his most recent prey but still found himself entering despite himself.
He hadn’t particularly felt anything while killing the man, and in fact hadn’t even put him out of his misery. The arm, the one that had held the pipe threatening him, had been more than enough to satisfy his appetite and he’d left Ponk to die of blood loss. I guess I could see if he has anything else that wouldn’t spoil while I travel.
Sam opened the last door, a thick wooden one and entered the room to find a scene very different from what it had been last. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he glanced around but he didn’t sense another living being nearby. “What…?”
There was still blood splattered on the wall and floor but Ponk’s body had been overall cleaned and covered in a blood soaked sheet. The duffle bag remained in place but the smaller backpack from earlier was missing and the window was open, blowing in a faint breeze that rippled across the sheet, almost making it look like he was still breathing when Sam knew for a fact that he wasn’t.
It felt so different from anything Sam had ever seen, there was something about the scene that felt so personal, so genuine, so human. Somebody had risked their life giving this body the respect it deserved with the limited time they already had. His brain briefly flicked over to Ponk’s last words. He’d been waiting for somebody to return, probably the very person who had done this.
That was awfully sweet…
And incredibly stupid. Despite himself, his intrigue spiked as he knelt beside the body to lift the sheet. Ponk’s facial features had been smoothed over, though his eyes, interestingly enough, remained staring blankly at the ceiling. His sleeve had been rolled up to his shoulder and tied off like he’d always been missing an arm and was used to living life like that.
The gaiter had been pulled down to hang loosely around his neck and Sam felt a twinge of regret at how clearly looked after this man had been. It had been a long time since he’d felt any kind of emotion like this. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to embrace them or stomp them into smithereens.
“You were pretty lucky.” He sighed, sitting back and allowing the stained sheets to cover the body again. “Somebody really cared about you.”
Nothing answered him in the following silence.
“Move.” He snapped, shoving another zombie limb out of his way as he struggled to make his way through the parking lot toward his destination, a long abandoned Hobby Lobby looming over him. It was smaller than a couple of the ones he’d seen but he was hoping it might still have what he needed due to how tricky it was to access.
Another low moan as a zombie brushed against him and he shot it a scathing glare that had it stumble a couple steps away before continuing on its path. These things are so dumb.
All he needed was a pack of batteries. He’d decided to check out the nearby news casting studio a few days ago and had found a set of walkie-talkies that were connected to those who were still active. It seemed much easier to carry those around than to try and find or build a working radio every time he reached a new hunting ground. And this way he had a map to where people would begin to gather. He just needed to get them to work.
Another gurgle as a zombie began walking into his shoulder with glazed over eyes, trying to get past him as their strength battled against each other. “I said move.”
Immediately silence fell before there was a quiet bellow that echoed across the pavement as the undead began to slowly scoot to the side and make a path for him to cross through. He rolled his eyes as he pushed a few who were moving out of the way too slowly. He eventually got to the heavy glass doors, one partially shattered. The hole looked big enough that he could step through if he was careful of the jagged edges.
He stepped one foot in before ducking to maneuver his head and most of his upper body through. Sam hissed through his teeth when he felt his jeans catch on the edge as he slipped in completely. “Come on.” He glanced down to observe the wound with a grimace. There was now a long tear in his jeans and a cut that was bleeding a lot but the wound was shallow. His healing abilities would kick in and deal with it soon enough. “These were my good jeans.”
A flicker of a shadow in the corner of his eye reminded him of his task. He just had to pray his supposed brethren hadn’t absolutely wrecked the stand and that not everything had been hoarded yet. Though he hadn’t thought any of them would be lurking inside the store, they tended to be pretty social creatures.
The faint sound of a heartbeat began echoing in his ears and all the muscles in his body tensed as he froze and listened harder. There’s someone here!?
Sam worried at the bottom of his lip before quietly moving toward the sound. The heartbeat, while still faster than a normal one, wasn’t nearly the same pace as most humans while in a building surrounded by creatures who wanted to eat you. He kept his weight shifted as he moved through the building until he heard a faint crash and a muttered curse a few rows ahead.
He hesitated briefly before hauling himself up one of the shelves to balance on the top of it, eyes adjusting to the darkened shadows, a faint red tint coming to his gaze as his night vision activated to give him better depth perception. Sam let out a breath before pinpointing the heartbeat ahead of him and making the first jump to the next shelf. He nearly overshot and his arms pinwheeled wildly for a moment before he managed to catch his balance in a crouch, where he froze, listening for any clue that the human had heard anything.
There was no change in their heartbeat and he could now pick up the sound of fabric swishing slightly. He gathered his courage and pride and made the next jump, landing on his toes. A small thud that sounded incredibly loud in his ears echoed up to him and he froze, teeth clenched shut as he closed his eyes, waiting for the red glow in his vision to die down. He did not need his bright red pupils to give him away right now.
Eventually Sam risked peeking his eye open and found himself staring at another male, this one looking a couple years younger. He was wearing a face mask pulled up over his nose and mouth and his fingerless gloved hands were flicking over a few objects, sometimes taking the time to pick it up and study it more carefully before putting it back down.
He couldn’t pick out many details due to the terrible lighting that was practically shadows on top of shadows but his heart suddenly lurched as the young man’s vivid green eyes caught on his as he scanned the area warily. His breath caught in his throat and he found himself holding it until they turned away again, revealing a small black and white checkered bag hanging off one shoulder.
Oh. His brain flitted back to a covered body with a missing arm in a sunlit room. So Ponk was talking about you.
A soft but pained sigh escaped his lips, redrawing Sam’s attention with the sad sound, a pit of guilt growing in his stomach despite how he tried to shove it out of his head. He didn’t know this person, who cared if he had pretty eyes, feeding off humans was how Sam survived and Ponk happened to be the nearest one. It didn’t matter.
“Come on.” The green eyed male dragged a hand down his face, frustration laced with faint amusement in a whisper that bounced up to Sam’s sharp ears. “There has to be a picture lamination or frame somewhere here, right?”
His hand brushes something off the shelf and he reaches to grab it before quickly retracting his hand as the sound of glass shatters on the floor. He winces, hand close to his chest as he glances around cautiously. The feeling of the predator-prey game rises up in Sam’s chest before he shoves it away, watching.
Eventually his shoulders relaxed slightly when there was no visible or audible reaction. Lights began flickering across the building, illuminating certain areas with flickering yellow lighting. His heart began doing flips again when one suddenly spotlighted the person he was watching.
The yellow lighting didn’t do much for him but Sam still felt himself entranced. He had silky blonde hair and some color to his skin. His hoodie was a neon green flag that somehow offset the shade of his eyes. There was a fresh scar that crossed from under his eye to the edge of his ear. A hockey stick was also strapped across his back as a makeshift weapon. He’s beautiful.
“Dang it Mama.” He ran a hand through his overgrown blonde hair, brow furrowing and eyes slipping shut briefly in a silent and private moment of grief. “Why weren’t you paying attention?”
Mama? I didn’t see any hints to another person traveling with them. Who’s he talking about?
His tone rose in his frustration as he kicked the shelf, voice breaking. “What am I supposed to do without you Ponk?”
A shiver ran through Sam at the words. His heart still ached for the younger man, though he wasn’t sure if it was out of pity or longing. It felt like he was watching somebody who had been in a similar position as him. Somebody who had been one push away from throwing it all away. Something inside him stirred, a new kind of hunger as he saw tears reflecting the light in his green eyes.
He wouldn’t need food for a while. “Hey.”
The blonde visibly jumped, frantically looking around him until his gaze was directed upward and caught on Sam. He waved slightly, moving to sit more comfortably on top of the shelf and have his legs dangle over the drop.
“Hi…”
“I’m Sam, what’s your name?”
“Dream.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for something.” Dream replied, shifting his weight back and forth nervously as his gaze flicked toward the end of the aisle as an escape option. A smile twitched across Sam’s face before he shoved it back down. “What about you?”
“Well I was looking for batteries. But you’re much more interesting.”
Green eyes widened slightly at the statement before Dream let out a nervous wheezing sound that Sam suspected was a laugh and took a step back. “What do you mean by that?”
He couldn’t stop the grin from creeping across his face again, revealing his own sharpened teeth as he leaned into view of the lighting. Dream’s gaze flicked quickly to his green colored hair to his black and green eyes to the patches of skin that had scarred in a weird rotten color from previous injuries. His grin widened when he saw the realization strike Dream as to just who he was.
He wasn’t sure if he was surprised, disappointed, or amused that the blonde turned on his heel and ran without another word. Sam considered following him but had to admit that the other man was fast, even for him, and he wasn’t the biggest fan of jumping down to the floor from his perch. Still, something seemed to be calling him toward Dream as he vanished from view.
Perhaps he could afford to play with this one.
He stamped down his rising excitement as he navigated his way silently through the abandoned gas station. The sign had long ago fallen and there was no way of telling what company it had belonged to. It stunk of flesh and artificial sweetness but he pushed through it, focused on keeping his steps as light and quiet as possible.
This time Sam allowed his night vision to remain activated at the risk of tripping over rubble or other abandoned objects scattered across the scuffed up tile. The electricity had long ago gone out, visible evidence of teeth having chewed through the wires in the box outside.
On the other side of the shelf, a faint shuffling sound confirmed that his target was still there, collecting a few of the stored water bottles in the long dead fridge, though it was clear both of them were on high alert for each other. But Sam had the advantage of knowing he was here.
The game had lasted much longer than Sam had originally expected, a back and forth of cat and mouse. To his delight there had been a few inventive traps that he’d accidentally sprung that had effectively, if not temporarily, slowed his pursuit. A further confirmation that his prey was just as feisty as he’d been in their first confrontation after their fateful meet up.
It had been two months since he’d first run into the blonde. Since he’d begun regaining his own feelings. Since their little game of hunter and hunted had started. But tonight would be different. Tonight would be the end of the game, one way or another.
He took a deep breath before lunging around the corner and slamming into Dream, knocking them both against the wall besides the broken fridge. A muffled cry of pain and surprise escaped the blonde’s mouth before he scrambled to fight back, landing a few hard blows before Sam managed to grab his wrists and use his inhuman strength to force him into a corner.
Blood trickled down his nose and around the corner of his lip and he licked at it with a hum before turning his sharp gaze on Dream. There was defiance even in the sea of fear his eyes held as his muscles strained underneath his grip to tear himself away and find some safety.
Triumph flooded through Sam’s veins as the newer, darker hunger rose up inside him. He had won.
