Work Text:
Sharp nails clicked across hardwood flooring in the darkness as Meouch slinked into the living area of the house he shared with his three bandmates. It was nearly 3 am and everyone should have gone to sleep hours ago, but habit had tugged the man out of his perfectly comfortable bed. Having night vision was a blessing for nights like these when the lure of a smoke in the fresh night air was too hard to ignore. While handy for navigating obstacles and making sure he wasn’t about to miss a step and look like a dumbass, tonight it let Meouch know that he had company.
“…Doc?” Meouch whispered cautiously.
“Oh, what’s up?” Sung asked casually, not turning from his spot at the table to face him.
Meouch stood slack-jawed in exasperation at the sight before him; several thick books littered the surface of the dining table as Sung poured over their contents, occasionally pausing to take notes. The shorter alien bounced silently in his seat and drummed his fingers on the table as he read. It was obvious that he was enjoying himself, but this likely didn’t bode well for the rest of the band as Sung had a penchant for causing all sorts of chaos from the most simple of activities.
“Uh, whatcha readin’ there, bud?” Meouch probed as he crept closer, careful not to step on Rufus, who was curled up beside Sung on the floor.
“Well, you see, I picked up a bunch of books on the history and science of necromancy in human culture. I figured I could, y’know, brush up on my techniques with some earthling flair.”
Meouch sighed deeply at Sung’s eccentric enthusiasm and turned towards the door to the porch. “Well I’m stepping out for a smoke.”
“Smoking is bad for you, commander.”
“Ha, like necromancy is any better? And no, don’t answer that.” Meouch huffed, stepping outside and closing the door quietly behind him.
Once outside, he was met with a pleasant breeze of cool night air that ruffled his mane and made his whiskers stand on end. Meouch stood at the edge of the porch looking out over the large expanse of their yard as he lit a cigarette. The wind blowing through the grass below mimicked a rolling, green ocean and shook the leaves of the many trees around their property. The view was always striking in the moonlight, and Meouch was pleased to know they had this sight all to themselves, without even having dumb human neighbors to scare. He was endlessly grateful for the wonderfully cloaked building and the surrounding area that they’d managed to call their home since coming to this backwater planet. Still, it irked Meouch knowing that their self-appointed “leader” was the one responsible for the safety they were now all privileged to. Sung liked to talk a big game, but Meouch had never once seen the man back up his claims. He wasn’t a space pirate with heightened reflexes and acrobatics like he was. He wasn’t some noble with admittedly sick guitar skills like Phobos. And he wasn’t, uhhh… he wasn’t a natural-born killer like Havve was. As far as Meouch was concerned, Doctor Sung was just a cryptically secretive, ridiculously buff, short nerd. How could someone so nerdy be so fit? Seriously, he spent most of his time doing who knows what locked in the basement or studying something dumb. Like necromancy. And he liked wearing parts of his gear all the time like a weirdo. Meouch puffed out a cloud of grey smoke accompanied by an annoyed sigh. He really didn’t feel like dealing with Sung again, but there was no way around that if he wanted to get back to his room tonight. Dropping his cigarette and grinding it under his bare heel with a low growl, Meouch decided to just get this over with as he made his way back inside.
Sung remained sitting at the table in silence as he studied one of the several books in the darkness, though it wasn’t as if he couldn’t see. He had those weird glowing freckles, and— Meouch’s ear twitched.
“Do you seriously still have that dumb core-whatever on?!” Meouch hissed, trying not to raise his voice.
“Huh, uh-yeah?” Sung glanced down at the glowing circle of light under his shirt, then up to Meouch. “…You know it’s a part of m-”
“Uggghhhhh!” Meouch groaned as he covered his face with his hands. “Yeah, yeah, it’s a paaart of yooou or whatever. Just—it’s real early in the mornin’, doc. I ain’t dealing with this right now.”
Sung watched as Meouch trudged upstairs. It was a struggle to push the commander’s hostility aside but Sung had known him for many years now and could chalk this up to a lack of proper sleep and general annoyance. That didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt, even if it wasn’t genuine, especially for an empath like Sung. It would be nice if the others at least tried to believe him from time to time. It wasn’t the easiest thing to talk about his past in the first place, but they had found his stories to be so outlandish that it was easier to believe he was making things up to sound cooler. But oh well, that was how things always went… And Meouch was right about it being very early in the morning. Sung had been at this for hours now and had amassed a sizeable collection of notes on the subject; it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to head to bed himself. Standing from his chair, careful not to disturb Rufus, Sung began cleaning up his study area. The notes were easy enough to take care of, but there were more books than he had remembered bringing to the table, all of them rather cumbersome. After some deliberation, Sung decided it would be smarter to leave the books in a neatly stacked pile and take care of them once the sun had come up. He didn’t exactly want to risk tripping on the stairs in the darkness with an armful of heavy books; that would certainly wake the others.
—💀—
Mornings for the four alien men weren’t usually much different from the typical human sort. Wake up, shower, eat breakfast—the usual routine. Except that this morning when Phobos, Havve, and Meouch entered the living area in various states of consciousness, a large stack of books laid on the dining table. Havve, having been used to Sung’s behavior for a long time now, brushed the situation aside with a roll of his robotic eyes and decided to just turn on the coffeemaker. Lord Phobos watched as Meouch slid the books off of the table and onto the floor while Rufus sniffed at them curiously.
“Those uh, those weren’t there last night,” Phobos stated with a yawn.
“Nope. Sung was doin’ some late-night reading.”
“On-” Phobos craned his neck to look at the books’ titles. “-raising the dead?”
Havve shook his head in disapproval while Meouch shrugged. Sung was incredibly hard to read sometimes and even harder to predict, so finding eleven thick, hardback books on necromancy left on the table like they were casual, light reading material was par for the course. Meouch silently wished the idiot himself would show up so they could grill him on his unique reading choices. The commander held no real malice toward the man, but he was awfully fun to tease. Sung made himself such an easy target that it would be a shame not to take advantage of it. Meouch wouldn’t have been surprised to find Sung passed out in his room at the crack of noon with how late he’d been up. The commander had barely been able to drag himself from his own room that morning, but the lure of bacon and freshly brewed coffee was too much for him to resist. He was honestly jealous of how easy it was for Havve to get up in the morning, being a machine and all… well, mostly machine. He didn’t like to dwell on that train of thought for too long. Meouch shook his head as if to rid himself of the idea, as the coffeemaker beeped and Havve readied a mug for the coffee to drain into. Whether Sung was asleep or just relaxing in his room, the smell of the fresh coffee would draw him out in no time.
Phobos dropped slices of white bread into the toaster as Havve stared towards the bedrooms, his arms crossed. With a quick turn of his head, Havve gave a quick hand gesture—Meouch barely registered it as the start of a countdown.
3…
2…
“-Issat coffee?”
Doctor Sung stumbled into the kitchen clumsily, clearly still half asleep, and Rufus quickly rose to greet his master. The large dog nearly bowled Sung over in his excitement while Phobos and Meouch could do little to keep themselves from laughing at the sight.
“Wha-hey! Goobyyyyyy—” Sung drawled as he struggled to cover a yawn.
Havve managed to wrangle the four-legged menace away from Sung as Meouch continued laughing. Phobos stared fondly at the chaotic scene in front of him as he bit down on his fresh toast and reached for Sung’s mug—a yellow one with sunflowers. The dork wouldn’t stand a chance of pouring his own coffee at this rate. After filling the mug to the brim, Phobos practically shoved it into Sung’s hands.
“Drink.”
Sung briefly glanced at the mug’s contents before throwing caution to the wind and taking a gulp of the plain, black coffee. His face reflexively scrunched up at the bitterness, but there was no denying that the caffeine jolted him fully awake. Giving Phobos a shaky thumbs-up as thanks and a toothy smile that he hoped didn’t look too much like a grimace, Sung made his way to the table to set down his mug. It didn’t take him long to notice that his books had been moved to the floor. Though irked that his things had been touched while he was sleeping, Sung rationalized that they would have only taken up space on the dining table while the gang was trying to have breakfast. On the other hand, however, Meouch was ready to pounce.
“So, Sung… wanna tell us why you were having a little, uh, study session at like 3 am, dude?
“Huh?” Sung glanced up at Meouch, the words still registering in his mind. “Oh… because I didn’t get enough done before then?” The short alien fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he spoke.
“Sung,” Phobos spoke up, “you know that you shouldn’t keep pulling these all-nighters. You-you get like this whenever you’re excited about something…”
“Well, yeah, but—”
[SUNG. PHOBOS IS RIGHT. UNLESS THERE IS A REASON FOR YOU TO BE STAYING UP UNTIL THE EARLY HOURS OF THE MORNING, YOU SHOULD BE SLEEPING. THIS DOES NOT SEEM LIKE SOMETHING WORTH LOSING SLEEP OVER.]
Sung looked away from Havve, down at the floor as he spoke. He knew that they were right; he shouldn’t be pushing himself like this over something so… insignificant. He grit his teeth and balled his fists at the thought. Of course there was a reason for doing things like this in the dead of the night; Sung didn’t want to lose sleep over this when he quite honestly didn’t need to. But he was tired of… of…
“…You know what? There is a reason for me to stay up all night for this.” Sung spoke with a dark, almost mocking tone. “If I do my ‘weird shit’ in the middle of the night, there’s less of a chance for you guys to make fun of it.”
“Huh?” Meouch’s smug smirk quickly fell to a frown as Sung became defensive.
“Don’t play dumb, Meouch. I know you don’t actually care about this; you never really do.”
“Dude, what are you talking about? You need to chill-”
Sung held up a finger to silence Meouch as he drained the rest of his coffee and slammed the mug on the table. “…I need to chill? Okay, okay, cool! You’re right, I’m overreacting to this whole thing! I have absolutely no reason to be pissed at you guys for making me the butt of your jokes! So, go ahead, make fun of my hobbies. I’m all ears.”
The three other bandmates tensed at Sung’s outburst. He was usually so easygoing and… passive? As if nothing they said had ever really bothered him for long. But here he was, leaning forward against the dining table with his hands gripped together tightly and an incredibly forced-looking smile on his face showing off his now unsettlingly sharp teeth.
“I’m uh… gonna take Gooby for his morning walk,” Phobos mumbled aloud as he headed to grab the dog’s leash. Rufus shot up excitedly at the mention of going for a walk, blissfully unaware of the rising tension in the room as he followed Phobos.
Havve watched on from a short distance away as Meouch and Sung stared each other down in the awkward silence that had been created. He’d known that it would have only been a matter of time before Sung snapped like this, but he’d honestly expected it to happen much sooner. Meouch’s constant schoolyard bullying techniques had evidently eaten away at his target over time, and now he was angry. Phobos may not have been an instigator like Meouch was, but he did relish in teasing Sung and joined in whenever he could. Both Meouch and Phobos were equally guilty when it came to bullying him. Deep down, Havve knew that he was partially at fault as well. Even though he never directly made fun of Doctor Sung, he did nothing to stop the others from picking on him. He supposed his decision to stand down stemmed from some morbid curiosity to see the man pushed to his limit. He was the only one in the band to know Sung’s true strength and how terrible it could be… the same strength and supposed ‘powers’ that Meouch regularly laughed about, claiming that Sung was lying in order to make himself seem cooler. Havve knew that the reason Sung refused to show off and prove Meouch wrong was that he didn’t want to hurt his friends. Sung could realistically do almost anything he put his mind to, quite easily in fact. Now that Sung was angry, Havve had no idea how this would end. It likely would not be pretty; he could guess that much just from the view in front of him.
Havve wouldn’t exactly call Meouch an idiot, but the commander could be too proud and hotheaded for his own good. Or anyone else’s for that matter. There was no way he’d think of taking the high road and apologizing in a situation like this. He’d be blinded by his hubris and likely—
“Finally pissed you off, huh? Well, whatcha gonna do about it then, cone boy?”
…There it was.
Havve waited in silent anticipation for the situation to escalate. Sung rhythmically closed and opened his hands, tightening them into fists then releasing, as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to deck the commander or not. Meouch looked far too smug, completely unaware of the danger he’d gotten himself into.
“…Nothin’, huh? Big bad Doctor Sung’s not gonna yell back? Where’s the fun in that?”
“Oh—! Oh! You want a fight? You want me to yell at you? Hahaha, where do I begin?!” Sung barked with hollow laughter. “I know—let’s talk about how useless I am! That sound good to you, Jazzlan? That’s your specialty after all.”
Meouch’s ears flattened back against the fur of his mane as Sung called him by his first name with such hostility. The shorter man stepped around the table to face the commander with his fake smile spread from ear to ear. Meouch bared his fangs right back in an amused, wry grimace.
“Is that an invitation? Where do I begin? Let’s see, you’re our singer and you need a machine to help you sing in the first place. Oho, what about when you flung Fuckthrust across the stage? That was priceless-”
“Without me you’d be nowhere, Commander Meouch. You’d be left behind on a dying planet with nobody there to save you. How does that sound?”
“Oh, so you’re supposed to be my fucking savior just because you were there with a working ship?” Meouch growled. “Didn’t know you had a superiority complex to match your ego.”
“I expect us to be equals, but for some reason you need to criticize everything I do!”
“S’not like it’s hard when you make shit up all the time. You don’t have “powers”, you just sound like a little kid playing pretend. And I mean, both Phobos and you are the last of your kind? Really? Admit it, you just wanna sound cool.”
Meouch’s jab was met with a deafening silence.
Sung stared back at him, an unreadable emotion upon his face.
Havve knew that this would not end well if he didn’t step in.
[SUNG.]
Havve stepped toward the two bandmates who remained unmoving as they were locked in a staredown. One look at Sung’s fists, crackling with a faint, almost unnoticeable energy, told him all he needed to know.
[STAND DOWN. HE IS NOT WORTH IT.]
Sung’s arm twitched as if he was holding himself back from punching Meouch in the jaw. And Havve wouldn’t blame him. Meouch had done much more than just strike a nerve; he’d flat-out called Sung’s painful past a sham. Anger swelled in Havve’s chest despite him not being the one verbally attacked. He couldn’t possibly begin to imagine the rage Sung must be feeling, but he absolutely could not allow Sung to hurt Meouch. If things progressed as he imagined they would, they would quite possibly be down one band member.
“Fine,” Sung growled through grit teeth. “maybe I’ll just prove you wrong then.”
The short man crouched down to pick his books up off of the floor and tried to ignore Meouch’s smug grin. The asshole treated this like a game that he needed to win—and he took pride in doing so. Hoisting all eleven hardback books over his right shoulder, Sung shot a pointed glare at Meouch before silently stalking off towards his room. Havve shook his head solemnly as Meouch snickered when they heard the door to Sung’s room slam shut.
—💀—
「Is Sung still locked in his room?」 Phobos signed to Havve as he took a seat across from him at the table. Havve responded with a simple nod.
It had been several hours since the fight earlier that day and the sun had begun to set. Sung had locked the door and refused to answer to either Havve or Phobos, choosing instead to isolate himself in silence. He wouldn’t even answer his phone. Meouch was the only one not trying to get him to open the door, not that Sung was likely to listen to him of all people anyway. Rufus had even spent a majority of the day curled up in front of Sung’s door waiting for him to let him in.
Meouch sighed heavily as he let himself sink further into the sofa. The tv droned on in the background but it had become little more than white noise to the three bandmates by now. Meouch didn’t feel right about this. Sung would usually bounce back by now, all cheerful and cracking dumb jokes or whatever… this was wrong. Sung should have been there, sitting next to him on the sofa watching tv and talking his ear off about something or other. Sure, it would be annoying, but it would be better than the gloomy atmosphere he was stuck with in here. He’d been hoping that this would have all blown over by now, but the guy was still holding a grudge. Meouch didn’t want to admit it, but he did feel some guilt over the situation; ultimately it had been his fault that Sung had locked himself away in his room in the first place. But it was just a petty grudge!
[COMMANDER MEOUCH.] Havve’s rough, electronic voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah,” Meouch grunted, turning to face his friend. “’suh dude?”
[YOU SHOULD APOLOGIZE TO HIM.]
“Pff, like that would do anything—”
[I DO NOT CARE IF YOU THINK THIS WILL HELP OR NOT. IT IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO. NOW GO.]
“Sheesh, okay…” Meouch grumbled as he stretched out before standing from his spot on the sofa.
He could feel Havve and Phobos staring at him as he walked across the room. Why was it making him nervous? He was just going to give some dumb, half-assed apology to Sung for hurting his feelings. The nerd was too sensitive if an argument was all it took to turn him into a shut-in. Wait. Had he… actually gone too far? The thought made Meouch come to stop roughly a foot before reaching Sung’s door. Shit. If he had, then he needed to actually say something meaningful. Shiiiiiiiit. Rufus looked up at him with pleading eyes as he whined pathetically as if to tell him to just get on with it. Fine, he could take a hint.
“Hey, uh, Doc? You in there?” Great start you idiot. “I uhhhhhhhhh, wanted to say sorry?”
Meouch scratched at his mane restlessly as he awaited any response. Sung obviously wasn’t just going to reply with a cheerful “Okay! Thanks bud!” and open the door, even if that’s what Meouch really wanted. So instead Meouch decided to give listening a shot for once. Pressing his ear against the wooden door, he focused on trying to hear anything on the other side. There was no audible crying, which gave him a small sense of relief, but he wanted to know what was going on in there. If he listened closely, he could hear… talking? Was Sung talking to himself?
“Sung? You good in there?”
Silence.
Meouch clenched his jaw in frustration. Sung was awake in there, he could hear him. So Sung was ignoring him. Figures. He wasn’t going to let that slide though; he’d drag that idiot out of his room if he had to.
“DOCTOR SUNG!” Meouch shouted, banging a fist against the locked door.
“WHAT?!” Sung shouted back, annoyance clear in his voice.
“OPEN YOUR FUCKING DOOR!”
Meouch could hear the dull thudding of things falling to the floor and muffled swearing. Rufus looked up expectantly and Meouch backed away from the door when they heard footsteps. The door was unlocked with an audible click and Sung threw it open with force.
“What do you want?” Sung growled, glaring up at Meouch.
Truthfully, Sung looked like a mess. His hair was disheveled and there were dark circles under his eye. The room behind him didn’t look much better, with books, papers, and pens littering the floor.
“I wanted—”
“You wanted to apologize to me? Have you ever honestly apologized for anything since we’ve known each other?”
“Uh,” Meouch’s ears flattened and he bit his tongue. Sung had a point. And he was still pissed. “look man… I… I know I said some mean shit.”
“I know I’m a joke to you, but I did say I’d prove you wrong, didn’t I?”
“Wha-? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m going to show you that I’m not just talk.” Sung quipped as he picked up a notebook from the mess on the floor.
The topmost visible page of the notebook was covered in writing and sketches while the pages underneath were dogeared and bursting with sticky notes. Sung inspected the notes, flipping through several pages before shrugging and pushing his way past Meouch.
Phobos shot up from his seat when he saw Sung walk into the living room, flapping his hands excitedly. Sung gave a tired wave in response before setting his notebook down on the table. Both Phobos and Havve peered down at it curiously as Sung stretched and took a deep breath. Meouch joined the trio, staying a few paces behind. He felt uneasy from Sung’s angry confidence and the possible implications of what ‘proving him wrong’ could be.
「Doctor Sung?」 Phobos signed, tilting his head to the side like a confused dog. 「What is this?」
“What is this?” Sung parroted. “This is your proof that I’m not the liar you think I am. And I thought, well, what’s a better way to do that than using necromancy?”
“Wait, wait—hold up,” Meouch spoke up, finally joining the others around the table. “you’re seriously gonna try necromancy dude?”
“If you think I can’t, that’s only more reason to do it then!”
“No, dude listen—”
[THIS MAY NOT BE THE SAFEST THING. DOCTOR S-]
“No! You don’t get to take this from me!” Sung yelled, slamming his hands down on the table. “Lights off. Now.”
Stunned by the sudden outburst, the three men stood there in silence for a moment until Phobos collected himself enough to go turn the lights off. It wasn’t completely dark with the lights off as the orangish light of sunset shone through the blinds. The sun had almost fully set by now though, so it would surely get darker in a matter of minutes. Sung looked around the room from person to person before turning his gaze back to the notebook.
“Salvēte! Mortua, vocem audi meam!” Sung began speaking as he placed his hands over the notebook. A soft green light emanated from his palms as he recited the incantation. “Nostrī agnosces quae vos fui quiēscentis enim diu. Autem, nunc est tempus ut surgētis ex vestra sepulchra et suo nōs!”
Meouch’s fur stood on end from the change of the energy in the room and Rufus began whining. Phobos fidgeted with his long, braided hair anxiously and shivered as a cold chill pervaded the living area. The temperature had dropped considerably even though the heater was still on. Rufus barked at their shadows on the floor and walls as they warped and stretched oddly in the waning light. Meouch had a horrible feeling about what Sung was doing and he secretly hoped that this was all an elaborate prank to get back at him. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him that it wasn’t. Despite the cold façade his faceplate gave him, Havve was rather worried underneath as well. He’d had his own past experiences with necromancy, and from what little he knew about it, he didn’t like where this was going.
“SURGĒTIS ET SUO NŌS!”
Sung’s shout reverberated through the room, only serving to add to the already tense atmosphere that had been created. As if like clockwork, right after the echoing had ceased, what remaining faint light there was left lighting up the room slipped away as the sun had finally set. As the strange green light faded from Sung’s hands, the bright core underneath his shirt became the main source of light in the room as the four men stood in the dark.
“…Uh, what now?” Phobos spoke up.
“We go outside? C’mon guys, they aren’t just gonna show up out of thin air.” Sung shrugged nonchalantly as he walked over to the door leading to the porch.
Dark clouds covered the sky, blocking much of the moon’s light and making the usually peaceful scenery dark and eerie. Throwing caution to the wind, Sung ran out onto the porch and climbed up onto the railing to look down at their yard. The man was clearly not dressed for the chilly night air, not having stopped to even throw on shoes before running outside, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Sung’s friends hung back cautiously in the doorway, however, as they watched their reckless leader. The brisk early autumn breeze tempted his uneasy companions to head back inside and turn the lights back on, but none of them exactly wanted to leave Sung outside. A strange noise caught their attention before the three could come to a decision though. Curiosity getting the better of them, they braced themselves against the wind and joined Sung at the edge of the porch.
“Sung, holy shit,” Meouch balked, taking a step back. “What the hell did you do…?!”
Below the four in the yard, fresh grass and dirt were being ripped through as several bony hands poked through the earth. Sung looked down at them with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Necromancy, duh. Willing to believe me now?”
“Dude. Now is NOT the time!”
“Are those…?” Phobos’ voice faltered as he stared down at the odd scene unfolding before them. “…..Zombies?”
“Sure are Phibbis!” Sung called cheerfully as he jumped down from the balcony before anyone could stop him.
Sung walked up the closest pair of decaying hands trying to claw their way through the dirt and kneeled down, watching intently. He was ecstatic to see his hard work and research come to fruition. It had been such a long time since he had reanimated a living thing and to see so many creatures have life breathed back into them all at once filled him with an odd sense of pride. Sung laughed excitedly as the undead human in front of him managed to free an entire arm from the ground and pull itself upward.
“Hey there buddy! Welcome back!”
The zombie lifted its head to “stare” at Sung as best it could without any eyes. It certainly wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at but Sung wasn’t about to shun a new friend. So he reached out a hand—
[SUNG.] Havve shouted, pulling Sung away from the zombie before it lurched at them.
The thing couldn’t quite reach them, but it swung its free arm angrily at Sung and Havve as it let out what sounded like a raspy hiss. Sung stared back in surprise wordlessly as it continued struggling to free itself.
“Rude,” Sung scoffed playfully, brushing his uncertainty aside. “guess someone’s cranky!”
“Yo, doc, I really don’t think these guys are too happy you woke ‘em up!” Meouch called out from above the two on the porch cautiously.
Havve might have had the balls to jump in and pull Sung back, but Meouch had seen the way that undead… thing had lunged at him. It looked desperate and angry and Meouch had a feeling that its “friends” wouldn’t be much better. He really hoped that the idiot would snap out of his self-important hubris before he managed to get himself hurt, but this was Sung after all. Part of Meouch wanted to just jump down there and drag Sung back into the house with Havve and Phobos, but the other, rational part of him, was worrying over whether that would be enough to keep them safe in a situation like this. Sung had literally just raised the dead and seemingly had no control over them; what good would a wooden door do them? It didn’t help that as Meouch was busy having an internal crisis, more zombies had freed themselves from the ground. Shambling corpses in various states of decay surrounded Sung and Havve in the yard.
“Now, come on!” Sung protested as Havve tried desperately to guide him to safety in exasperation. “Why aren’t you guys listening?”
[DOCTOR SUNG, I DO NOT THINK THEY CAN BE REASONED WITH.]
“But—! But I don’t understand! I said everything right! I—I did everything right! It was a success! So why aren’t—”
The words died in Sung’s throat as a partially skeletal hand grabbed Havve’s shoulder from behind. In a flash, Havve ripped the hand off of his shoulder and crushed it in his own hand. Its owner let out an otherworldly howl of what was likely pain before throwing itself at the cyborg.
“HAVVE!” Phobos screamed, blind panic taking over as he climbed over the balcony.
Meouch watched his friends from above as icy fear gripped his heart. Why was this happening? Why had some petty argument led to an army of fucking zombies growing from their yard like some ugly-ass flowers?! He wanted to believe that this had to be some stupid nightmare, that there was no way this was actually happening and that he was still wrapped up in his blankets asleep, but he knew it was real. It was real and his friends were getting attacked by actual real-life zombies. Goddammit.
“You IDIOTS!” Meouch bellowed, demanding attention. “Get your butts back in the house! NOW!”
Havve threw his assailant to the ground and nodded to the others. Getting back inside was definitely the safest option right now. It took Phobos a moment to register the situation as Havve patted him roughly on the back, sending him stumbling back towards the porch. Havve decided that convincing Sung into heading back inside would be more trouble than it was worth, so he opted for the easiest solution. Throwing the cyclops over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before he could even begin to argue, Havve ran back to the porch’s steps. Meouch threw the door open, ushering the three inside and running through as well before slamming it shut and deadbolting it.
Havve dropped Sung to the floor where he sat back dazed in the darkness. Rufus ran up to the short man, whimpering and licking at his face. Meouch slumped down to the floor, leaning back against the door as he covered his face with his hands. Phobos pulled a chair out from the table and sat heavily, his wide-eyed gaze fixated on the floor. The four men let the quiet wash over them as they let the reality of the situation they were in truly sink in. The darkness did nothing to help calm their nerves, but none of them dared to open the blinds in unanimous unspoken fear of seeing what was waiting for them outside.
“What… what do we do now?” Phobos’ voice came quietly, understandably tainted with anxious fear. “They’re uh, they aren’t just going to go away if we wait in here.”
“Uh… well,” Meouch sighed, trying to find a way to voice his thoughts. “Sung, since you called them out, can’t you like, tell them ta frig off? Just, I dunno man, say more of your magic mumbo jumbo but tell ‘em to go back to sleep or something?”
“I guess I could try that,” Sung shrugged halfheartedly as he snaked his arms around Rufus, pulling the dog in for a hug. “’can’t guarantee it’ll work though. I just… I dunno man.”
Havve and Phobos turned to look at Sung in confusion. That didn’t sound like the Sung they knew; he was very obviously still upset. Seeing the empath acting so sad, so empty and, well… apathetic, felt incredibly wrong. The dejection was clear on his face as he sat slumped forward, petting Rufus. Havve sat next to Sung on the floor and offered what he hoped was a comforting pat on the shoulder.
“What… What do you mean you don’t know?” Meouch groaned.
“I mean,” Sung began, though his voice was muffled as he had his face pressed into the side of his very confused dog as he spoke. “that I don’t know. Sure, I got them to come out, but you guys saw that they didn’t listen to me… fuckin’ story of my life.”
Meouch bared his fangs and opened his mouth to yell at Sung but bit his tongue as he watched the shorter man curl in on himself. Rufus whined and rested his head on Sung’s right shoulder as Havve uncertainly continued patting him on his left shoulder. Damn, Sung really wasn’t taking this whole “not being listened to” thing well. Sulking definitely wasn’t going to stop the approaching horde of zombies outside though. Meouch’s fur bristled as he heard a dull, heavy thud come from outside the door he sat with his back to. He’d been doing his best to ignore the sounds that had been closing in on them for a while now, but having feline hearing made it impossible to tune them out completely. He could hear slow, uneven footsteps creaking on the wooden deck of the porch. The thumping and scratching against the outer walls and windows. Though muffled, their inhuman groaning and wailing made his fur stand on end. Meouch flexed his hands anxiously, unsheathing his claws, as the four men and their dog sat in restless silence. Exposing his claws to the open air gave him some semblance of control over the uneasy, hopeless feeling residing in his chest. The dread and tension filling the room made him feel like he was going to drown and for once in his life, Meouch thought he might understand how hellish being what Sung called an ‘empath’ could truly be.
“Um, w-well!” Phobos stuttered nervously, breaking the silence as he signed the word for ‘possible’ despite the darkness. “Maybe they uhh, they only listen to you when you use that weird language-”
[LATIN] Havve interjected.
“-When you use Latin? Like before with the chanting?”
“Y’know, that’s actually a pretty good point, Phobs.” Meouch nodded. “I don’t think Sung spoke any Latin-whatever after we went outside. Maybe they only listen to that stuff?”
“…Whuh?” Sung mumbled in response, raising his head and blinking tears from his eye.
[AFFIRMATIVE, COMMANDER. HE HAS NOT SPOKEN IN LATIN ONCE SINCE THE RITUAL.]
“Wait, wait—” Sung wiped at his face, looking at his friends in bewilderment. “that’s…… what?”
“Oh my god dude, did you seriously not realize this whole time?” Meouch laughed as he stretched and stood to lean his full weight back against the door. “You were so ready to put yourself down over something so dumb! Maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions next time, nerd.”
“Shut up.” Sung scoffed as he crossed his arms stubbornly, but the grumpy gesture was cast aside as his dog delivered a sloppy lick along the length of his face. Rufus barked in Sung’s face as the man spluttered and wiped his face with the back of his arm. The wrinkly goofball certainly knew how to take his owner’s mind off of things. As undeniably funny as the scene was, Meouch couldn’t bring himself to smile along with the others as a heavy weight slammed against the other side of the door and caused it to rattle behind his back.
“So uh,” Meouch cleared his throat, getting the attention of his bandmates. “unless you got that weird chant BS on lockdown, doc, we’ve gotta do something about… y’know. Hey, Havve? C’mere a sec, bud.”
Though initially confused, Havve complied and joined Meouch as he’d asked. Just as the cyborg approached the door, a loud thud sounded from outside and caused Meouch to stumble a bit before slamming his back against the door once more.
[AH, I SEE. THE UNDEAD ARE ATTEMPTING TO COME INSIDE THE BUILDING.] Havve reasoned flatly, pushing Meouch aside like he weighed nothing at all and taking over as the door’s temporary barricade.
“Shit, okay,” Sung grunted as he pushed himself up off of the floor. “I can see where this is headed.”
“Wait, wait! No, you mean we have to fight those things?! I did not sign up for this horror movie stuff.”
“Aw, come on now, Phibbis! It’s not like we haven’t fought plenty of weird stuff together before!” Sung replied nonchalantly as he began stretching in preparation. “No use complaining at a time like this anyway. Besides, I uh… I kinda got us into this mess in the first place. Might as well finish what I started.”
[I WILL GIVE ALL OF YOU IDIOTS NO MORE THAN FIFTEEN MINUTES TO GEAR UP. WE WILL TREAT THIS AS SERIOUSLY AS ANY PAID JOB, UNDERSTAND?]
“Yeah, yeah, we gotcha.” Meouch shrugged, smirking in amusement as Phobos groaned.
[THEN GET GOING. NOW.]
—💀—
With Havve’s electronic voice echoing through the house, counting down the minutes they had left to prepare, the three aliens rushed to get themselves ready in the dark house. They fumbled about with the lights off in fear of attracting any more zombies outside as they scrambled to reach their rooms quickly. It was unanimously agreed upon that fully changing into their suits would take up too much of their precious time. This meant finding suitably protective casual clothing that they could move around easily in. It was a general rule of thumb to never wear anything loose-fitting when going into serious combat; something that had been decided after Meouch’s decorative loincloth had been used against him in the middle of a fight one time too many times. Baggy clothing or loose shoelaces could be surprisingly damning in the heat of battle. With this in mind, the three men hurriedly dug through their respective dressers and closets in search of appropriate gear. With fashion taking a back seat to the need for safety and insulation from the cold, autumnal weather, the band members opted for their color-coded tracksuits. Slipping on their usual pieces of armor and helmets over top of the tracksuits, all that was left to grab were their weapons.
[4 MINUTES.] Havve’s voice rang out.
Lord Phobos tucked his shoelaces inside of his pair of worn-out sneakers and grabbed his pair of sais.
[3 MINUTES.]
Commander Meouch pulled on a pair of leather fingerless gloves, glad that he hadn’t decided to trim his claws—which had grown rather long at this point.
[2 MINUTES.]
Doctor Sung grabbed his sturdiest pair of nunchucks before locking Rufus inside of his room for his own safety.
[1 MINUTE.]
Phobos, Meouch, and Sung ran down the hallway, skidding to a stop in the living area just short of knocking each other down in the process. Havve watched the spectacle in what one could guess was amusement as he nodded sagely at his friends.
[THROW ME A KNIFE.] The cyborg demanded. [A BIG KNIFE.]
Reaching over the counter, Phobos retrieved a butcher’s knife from the knife block and tossed it in Havve’s direction. Catching the kitchen tool with ease and spinning it around in his fingers, much like a drumstick, he signed a quick ‘thank you’ with his free hand.
With everything now so quiet, it was impossible to ignore the sounds of the horde surrounding their home. The restless undead clawed at the windows and the wooden door that Havve stood guard over. Sung took a deep breath and used the moment to calm himself. Yeah, this whole situation was essentially his fault, but if Meouch hadn’t been such a dick—no, no… this was not the time to point fingers, no matter how much he wanted to. He could deal with his anger and bitterness after the threat had been taken care of. The most important thing right now was protecting the others from danger. Gripping his nunchucks tightly in one hand, Sung stepped forward towards Havve and the door.
“Let’s get this show started, shall we?” Sung laughed as he bounced on the balls of his feet, throwing on a happy façade.
“Dude, how can you be so calm right now?” Phobos whined, earning a chuckle from Meouch. “This is… it’s like one of those horror games you stream all the time!”
“Well, that’s probably part of the reason honestly,” Sung shrugged. “and freaking out isn’t going to help us through this you know.”
[DOCTOR SUNG IS CORRECT AND WE ARE GOING TO BE FIGHTING WHETHER WE FIND IT PLEASANT OR NOT. NO MORE STALLING.] Havve chided as he reached for the doorknob.
Turning sideways as he opened the door, Havve thrust his knife forward before swiping it in a horizontal arc. A handful of zombies stumbled backward after being slashed by the sharp blade. Taking advantage of the opening Havve had created for them Sung, Meouch, and Phobos ran outside. The sudden movement and noise attracted the attention of more nearby zombies who began shambling toward the now opened door. Sung placed himself between Havve and the approaching enemies as the cyborg quickly locked the door. Meouch and Phobos ran farther out onto the porch, ready to cover each other’s backs.
Despite Phobos’ reluctance to fight, his sais were soon buried deep in the flesh of several zombies. He silently slew every enemy that came into his line of sight like they were nothing to be feared at all. Meouch would have loved to make a crack about his friend’s sudden ruthlessness if he weren’t also in the thick of a battle alongside him. His claws were already slick with blackened blood, though he found that snapping their necks was the easiest way for him to take them out cleanly. Truthfully, Meouch was worried about fighting these things so close-up like this, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He couldn’t help but muse to himself how ironic he found it that having watched his fair share of zombie movies was causing more anxiety than anything useful.
Sung brandished his nunchucks and steeled himself as the undead horde closed in on them. Spinning in a half-circle, he swept a leg outward and knocked a good number of them to the ground. Havve, however, was much less forgiving in his methods than his companion as he made quick work of butchering the fallen zombies. The blundering that came from being knocked back or the concussing effects of a nunchuck spun expertly were met with the cold metal of a sharp blade severing the decomposing bodies. The pair made a formidable team when it came to taking the zombies down, though when there was a lull in the fighting Havve shot Sung an annoyed glare.
[YOU ARE HOLDING YOURSELF BACK, DOCTOR.]
“What?”
[DON’T “WHAT” ME. I KNOW THAT YOU UNDERSTAND MY POINT.] Havve’s voice came out flat and condescending as he scanned their surroundings for any surviving zombies, turning his back on Sung.
“I can’t just—! Dude, come on!” Sung groaned as he wiped the blood off of his nunchucks. He shot a quick glance over to Meouch and Phobos cautiously, relieved to see that they had moved their fighting far enough out of earshot. “…I can’t just do that, you know?”
[WHY NOT?]
“I uh… I don’t want to hurt you guys or anythi—”
[SO YOU’D RATHER LEAVE THE REAL FIGHTING TO US THEN? THAT DOES NOT SOUND LIKE THE DOCTOR SUNG THAT I KNOW. DON’T TELL ME THAT THE COMMANDER’S TEASING HAS MADE YOU SELF-CONSCIOUS.]
“It…” Sung clenched his fists in frustration. “So what if it has, Havve? What then? I’ve been constantly reminded that I’m apparently nothing more than some idiot who causes problems!” Sung laughed hollowly.
[I’M SURE YOU MUST KNOW,] Havve tilted his head as he turned back to face Sung, resting his hands on Sung’s arms. [THAT NOW IS THE PERFECT TIME TO PROVE HIM WRONG.]
Havve tightened his grip on Sung and with frightening ease tossed the man over the balcony and straight into the fray. Time seemed to stand still as Sung flew through the air and over the horde of restless zombies in the yard. Meouch and Phobos turned to watch in horror just in time to witness his crash-landing. Loosened dirt and zombie parts scattered through the yard, away from the impact zone as the living projectile skidded to a stop.
“Havve!? What the FUCK, DUDE!?” Meouch cried in alarm as he finished off the last of the zombies on the porch.
“Have you lost your mind!?” Phobos screamed as he ran to the balcony. “Sung! A-are you alright!?”
Havve didn’t grant either with an answer, electing to merely cross his arms and watch the scene unfold. As the dust cleared, Sung could be seen staggering to his feet. He was covered in dirt and debris and his yellow tracksuit was ripped in multiple places. Before Sung could really get his bearings, the closest zombies made their move. He tried his best to shake them off as they grasped at him blindly. Still on the porch, Havve made quick work of holding Phobos and Meouch back from vaulting over the balcony.
[LET HIM DEAL WITH THIS.]
“Are you crazy!? He’s surrounded!” Phobos yelled, struggling in Havve’s grasp.
“Those things are going to rip him apart!” Meouch growled in a panicked agreement.
[YOU TWO TRULY DO NOT HAVE ANY FAITH IN HIM, DO YOU? DOCTOR SUNG IS MORE THAN CAPABLE OF TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF.]
Phobos and Meouch twisted in their captor’s arms to share an incredulous look directed at the cyborg. Had Havve really thrown Sung directly into danger just to scold them like an angry parent? The idiot’s life was at stake here and he was taking the time to nag them?! The two continued their struggle to free themselves as Havve rolled his red LED eyes.
A good number of the remaining zombies had gathered around Sung in the yard below, attracted by his loud crash landing and the sudden movement. Sung rose to his feet, coughing from all of the dust that had been kicked up, only to be grabbed by several pairs of bony hands attempting to pull him in different directions. The fresh tears in his tracksuit caused by his rough landing made for adequate handholds as the undead horde clawed at Sung desperately. In his struggle to escape their clutches, the fabric of his yellow tracksuit jacket tore away. As the zombies were confused by the scraps of fabric that they had pulled away, Sung used the opportunity to slip away and distance himself from the crowd. The cold autumn night air rushing against his bare skin as he ran made the scrapes and cuts that littered his chest and arms sting. Though he wasn’t badly injured, his yellow blood seeped through his torn, brown tank top that he’d worn underneath the now tattered and useless jacket. The dark, cloudy night made it hard to make out where he was going so he chose to run straight ahead and hope for the best. The soft glow from his core unfortunately wasn’t nearly bright enough to light his way through the darkness, barely illuminating the space half a foot in front of him. Sung’s mind raced frantically as he ran across the yard; he was definitely going to have a serious talk with Havve about this tomorrow. Before Sung could register what was happening, however, he found himself falling face-first into the grass, dirt smearing the visor of his conical helmet. Turning to see what had tripped him, Sung was faced with a still half-unearthed zombie reaching out for his leg.
Sometimes Meouch hated being able to see perfectly in the darkness. Sure it had its perks, like being able to sneak around at night or being unfazed by blackouts… but being able to see his friend being stalked by these monsters made his blood run cold. Screw pride, Sung was much more important. Fueled by adrenaline, Meouch pried himself from Havve’s tight grip and vaulted over the balcony before he could be caught. He ignored the alarmed cries of Havve and Phobos behind him as he sprinted through the yard. Sung had managed to get himself into a pretty bad spot and he probably had no idea that he was being surrounded. The closer Meouch got to the horde, the more clearly he could smell blood—Sung’s blood. The scent only served to anger him further as he shot forward toward his target.
Sung stood in silence, trying his best to gauge how many zombies were nearby. He could hear their awkward shuffling through the grass and the raspy, guttural groans they spoke in. He could guess that there were at least ten of them from the difference in sounds alone, but without being able to see clearly, they looked like a shadowy mass. Whether he could see his foes clearly or not, he still had to fight. A particularly cold breeze shook the branches of the nearby trees noisily and caused a brief distraction for the zombies and Sung took the opportunity to ready himself in a fighting stance. Havve had thrown Sung into this mess, quite literally, because he had wanted him to fight without holding himself back. At least now he was far enough away from the others to not have to worry about accidentally hurting any of them.
Closer. Meouch had to get closer. He had to reach those damned things before they hurt Sung. Meouch could do nothing but run and run, absorbed by his regretful thoughts. This was all his fault; why did he have to be such an ass? Why couldn’t he just listen instead of making fun of everything?! Meouch snarled as he slashed impatiently at any stray zombies that crossed his path. God, Havve had flung the shorty far, but he was closing the distance. The crowd of zombies didn’t pay much attention to the rapidly approaching threat, choosing instead to focus on Sung.
Sung hesitated for a moment, flexing his right hand, before delivering a swift punch to a zombie standing in front of him, striking it directly in the face. The audible crunching and snapping of brittle bones accompanied the head of the unsuspecting zombie flying fast and far away from its body. Energy crackled from Sung’s fist and his core gleamed brightly as Sung laughed aloud in a mixture of surprise and confidence. His attack had seemed to rile up the monsters even more than they had been as one of them charged forward. Another quick jab stopped it in its tracks however as the blow he had delivered left a hole in its chest.
Meouch skidded to a halt as something flew past him overhead. What the hell was that?! Before he could figure out just what had happened, an odd yet familiar cackle brought him back to his senses. Sung? Sung! Dammit, he couldn’t be getting distracted like this now! Meouch tore through the grass as he continued running. They couldn’t be more than 2 meters away now; he could see that dumb orange cone Sung always wore. This was it. He’d rush in, grab the idiot doctor, and haul his ass back to the house—
“Gwaaahaha! Gross!” Sung laughed loudly.
Barely registering what he’d just heard, Meouch leaped for the closest zombie he could reach, sinking his claws into its back. Wasting no time in finishing it off, he shoved his way through the circle of zombies, only coming to a stop when he came face to face with Sung himself.
“Wh—? Sung?” Meouch gaped, taken aback by his friend’s appearance.
Sung was covered in dirt and a modest amount of zombie blood at this point. The ruined jacket of his tracksuit had been abandoned, leaving Sung rather unprotected in his torn-up tracksuit pants and tank top. A large tear in the fabric of the loose-fitting top revealed a circular light embedded in the shorter man’s chest. What had once been a dangerous undead monster dangled limply where Sung held it aloft like it was nothing more than a doll. There were so many things Meouch wanted to say and ask about this scene but the most eloquent inquiry his stressed brain could produce was-
“The fuck?”
Sung turned his head innocently to look at Meouch, blinking behind his visor in confusion. Why was he down here with him? It was dangerous! Speaking of which—Sung tossed the defeated zombie aside and wordlessly shoved Meouch downward, forcing him to kneel. Swiping his leg over Meouch’s head with great force, Sung kicked away a zombie that had been about to attack him. Meouch turned his head to watch in awed silence as his would-be attacker crumpled from the single kick.
“Dude!” Sung finally exclaimed as he watched Meouch stand back up. “What are you doing out here?”
“I uh—I was… I was gonna bring you back.” Meouch admitted sheepishly as he watched Sung casually incapacitate another zombie like it was a minor inconvenience.
“Oh, so you were actually worried about me?” Sung asked in a mocking tone, grinning cheekily.
“Oh shut up.”
Sung laughed jovially in response. The remaining zombies stared at the two with a shared slack-jawed expression for the duration of their exchange, opting to hang back. Meouch couldn’t help but notice and he felt a strange sense of understanding when he registered it as a combination of disbelief and fear. At least he hoped that was what they were feeling, then he wouldn’t be the only one.
“Yeah, let’s head back now,” Sung shrugged. “I don’t think the rest of ‘em will give us too much trouble.”
Meouch tried to work through the emotional whiplash he’d just been through as he scrambled to follow Sung, who had already begun jogging back toward the house at a brisk pace. He had so, so many questions he wanted—no, needed to ask Sung… questions could wait until they were truly safe though. For now, he’d have to be satisfied with piecing together what he had seen firsthand.
“Sung! Meouch!” Phobos cried out to them as they approached the porch. “A-are you okay? You’re not hurt or—”
“Calm down Phobs, we’re fine.” Meouch sighed as he climbed the steps. The voice modulator of Phobos’ helmet picked up on a small huff of annoyance as he crossed his arms. Meouch chuckled at the childlike display and patted him on the shoulder. Havve simply nodded in approval as he looked down at the two before unlocking the door.
Sung rushed inside as soon as the door was unlocked, flipping on the lights and heading straight for the notebook that he had left on the table earlier. Pulling off his helmet and setting it aside, he read over the notes feverishly. Once the metal weapons had been washed and dried and Rufus had been let out of Sung’s room, Phobos joined Sung at the table. He hadn’t really noticed when they had been outside, but now with the lights on Phobos could see the state the Sung was in.
“Sung, are you okay?” Phobos asked quietly.
“Mn,” Sung grunted in reply as he pulled a mechanical pencil from the spiral binding of the notebook. “gotta translate…”
Phobos sighed when he saw the look in his eye. Sung wouldn’t rest until he was satisfied like this. Phobos craned his neck to see what Sung was writing. It looked like complete gibberish to him, but he could guess that it was more of that weird language that had raised the dead in the first place. Meouch and Havve joined Phobos in curiosity, watching Sung scribble Latin as he mumbled to himself.
—💀—
“GOT IT!” Sung shouted, standing from his chair suddenly and startling the others. “Uh! Outside, now!” he yelled frantically as he raced to the door.
Following Sung in his excitement, the group returned to the porch once more. The few remaining zombies milled about in the dark aimlessly as Sung held his notebook up triumphantly. His hands began glowing an eerie green once more as he spoke.
“Salvēte! Immortui, nunc est tempus ut revertetur est vestra sepulchria! Nunc, omnes vos mos somnus in aeternum. Vale atque bonum nocte!”
Moments after the words had been spoken, the zombies began falling lifelessly to the ground. The group watched in silence for a few moments before breaking out into cheers of victory. The celebration didn’t last long, however. Once back inside, Sung dropped his notebook and slumped to the floor.
“Dude, you okay?” Meouch asked as he crouched down next to Sung.
“Tired.” Sung groaned, rolling over onto his side.
[YOU ARE NOT SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR. ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU ARE FILTHY.] Havve crossed his arms in disapproval.
“I’ll uhh, grab some bandages.” Phobos offered before he set off down the hall.
—💀—
“Yo, doc. I got some questions about uh… you, I guess?” Meouch sighed. He knew what was coming as soon as the words left his mouth. That, and Sung’s dumb smirk was a dead giveaway.
“I’ll tell you if you say you’ll believe me this time.”