Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Strange dreams danced about his head the night before, disgusting eye in his wall, the bloody mess he made of his neighbor. It. This all felt like too much. It wasn’t even halfway to noon, noon and he killed someone. No, not someone his neighbor. Then those disgusting zombie eye things shambled out of Vincent’s room. Fuck. Is he going to have to kill all of them? Seriously? He felt nauseous already.

He needed a break from this, just something. Maybe he could go water his plant, or get something to eat.

Sam clutched his mouth, trying not to puke as he stumbled out of his neighbor's apartment.

It didn't take him long to get back to his own. He set his bat by the door, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Going back to his bedroom, he gave the water to his plant, taking a deep breath. He sat on his bed, feeling overwhelmed.

Sam looked to his window, the curtains had a little peek of light coming though. Might as well close it, don't want to start growing eyes or become one of the zombies in the hallway.

Light grazed his eye, barely enough of a glimpse to tell what was going on. It couldn’t have been less than a second, no nanosecond. But he felt… strange. His whole face itched, eyes pushing against his head. Great. A headache.

He clutched his eyes before making his way out of his bedroom. Itchy, now everything else was itchy. Tensing across his skin. He continued to hold his eyes, knowing this place well enough that he knew he probably wouldn’t bump into anything. He had some tylenol in his bathroom, in the medicine cabinet.

Sybil must have seen him, she was saying, no shouting something.

Sam rubbed his eyes as he felt the carpet change to tiles. They felt crusty. When was the last time Sam got some actual sleep? Cricking his back as he walked towards the mirror, man his back felt weird.

Reaching towards the mirror he. Wait. Fur? He fell backwards yelping as he accidentally sat on something in his pants. He slowly reached back, feeling the base of his back there was something directly above his ass. He grabbed it, yanking to make sure it was attached to him, that this was some weird dream. Ouch, definitely attached. He shuffled it out of his pants, it twitched from side to side. Slowly picking up steam as Sam became more and more frustrated.

He looked down at his hand, no his paw. It was covered with white fur with a soft paw pad, he rubbed his thumb over it, sensitive.

His brow furrowed as he took it all in.

IT WASN’T EVEN THAT MUCH. How the hell did one little bit of light translate to this. Cat. Sam, you are a cat. How? Sam was clutching his head, half petting the new fur that covered him.

He slowly got up, putting his slippers back on. He let out a sigh, let's just look at what we’re working with.

He used the sink to help him up, looking at his new, furry face in the mirror. It’s not terrible considering the others he had seen today alone. He had orange fur, white muzzle, and darker more cinnamon stripes. A tabby. Or at least he thinks tabby, he didn’t actually know that much about cat colors and coats. Inspecting his face closer he noticed the blue splotch still on his right eye. The only thing that changed much about his eyes were his pupils, taking on a slit, waxing and waning as he studied himself. He heard more shouting from the living room, becoming clearer as his ears swiveled on his head. Sam flicked his ears a few times, weird.

Sybil was talking from her hole in the wall, asking Sam to answer her, say something, anything. There was worry in her voice as Sam walked over to the eye in his wall.

“Oh.”

Sybil was studying his face, looking at the unamused expression on it.

“Well, could have been, worse I guess…”

“I mean, you look kinda cute.”

He felt embarrassed. Know what more than embarrassed, fucking humiliated. He put a paw to his face.

“Please, don’t call me cute.”

“Oh, um ok.”

“I’m, I’m going to go clear out the rest of the hallway. See you later, I guess.”

“Bye Sam.”

Maybe he should have rest, but he also had shit to do. It wasn’t safe to have a bunch of eye zombies walking around the halls, if there was anyone out there with half a mind left they could be attacked. Even if they were once people, people shouldn't attack one another, people shouldn't growl or hiss. He sighed to himself, are you really rationalizing this out? But really. What other options do you have? You could be the last lucid person in this building, have to live the rest of your days with a talking eye.

God, he hopes there is someone else out there. Someone sentient. Anyone.

As he walked he could feel his tail swaying.

Cute, the work stuck to his mind. If he met anyone else who wasn’t mad he just hoped that wouldn’t be their first reaction too. He’s not entirely sure why that had gotten under his skin so much. He never really got too many compliments, and the few he’s ever gotten were more or less jabs at him. Cute, he grumbled to himself, thinking it over more. Fuck, he just didn’t want to be treated like a pet. He’s still a person. Even if he felt his ears pin back as he walked towards the stairwell. Even as his tail twitched in annoyance as an eye zombie slowly looked to him.

Sam readied his bat, swinging it at the zombie that lunged first. It knocked over, hitting a wall before going limp. The second was more tricky, slashing Sam’s arm before he could get a good swing at it.

He hit it in the stomach, to which it tried to hit Sam in turn. He took the hit, smashing the thing’s head on the doors to the stairs, twitching before freezing in place. Whew, ok, the hallway should be safe for now. He moved the bodies over to the side, trying the door. Locked. Honestly he should have guessed that he wouldn’t get off that easy. And seeing his only real option, he braved the door to Vincent’s.

It looked like a mess, smelling of cheap booze and cigarettes. Some more eye zombies shambled about, with a larger figure standing in the back of the room.

Sam stopped over by the kitchenette first, grabbing the scattered supplies left on the table and in the drawers. An eye zombie growled, thoughtlessly lunging towards the table, crawling while Sam continually beat it with his bat.

He snuck around the other stumbling mess of eyes, hoping whoever it was back there might be sane.

It was Vincent, he was clutching his stomach it looked like he had a cut on his hand too. As Sam approached, Vincent turned to face him, a determined look on his face.

“Hey, Vincent I know I don't look like it but it's me. Sam. Are you ok?”

Sam whisper-shouted. Vincent was now on the approach, but Sam paused. Something wasn't right.

“You saw it too. Didn't you.”

Shit. Alright. Sam readied himself for an attack as Vincent's grip loosened on his coat. The other zombie is approaching from behind, they were trying to corner him.

“Let me, let me in…”

Vincent suddenly flashed Sam, the many, many eyes all opening at once.

“CLOSER!”

The eye zombie lunged for Sam, he ducked smashing the thing in with the bat. Yet just as it connected, broken. A million wooden splinters scattering on the floor. Vincent went next, trying to beat Sam with his fists, Sam kicked back hitting an eyeball head on. Vincent flinched away, leaving some room for Sam to get some distance. Shit. He threw the broken bat off to the side, another weapon, he needed something else. He still had that knife, but-

“Let me… close.”

Vincent was quick. Quicker than anyone should be. He clocked Sam in the side of the head, sending him into a wall. Fuck. No time, he. Sam needed to, just.

He did it almost absentmindedly, lunging forwards with claws drawn. Slashing at the prehensile stalks supporting the eyes on his stomach. He got one, but the other moved in, hitting Sam to the floor. For a moment he crouched there, the next his teeth sunk into flesh. Vincent was wild, thrashing around trying to get Sam off, Sam dug his claws into Vincent’s side in response. Guttural growls escaped them both, Sam was kicking now, slippers flying in the flay.

He bit down harder, harder, there was a crunch, try as he may, Vincent wobbled and stumbled, falling on his back.

Vincent no longer struggled, he laid on the floor, blood pooling on the wooden floor. Sam finally let go, breathing long, heavy breaths. Everything tasted like blood, the white fur on his hands stained a deep crimson.

He felt sick, holding his mouth. People shouldn’t growl.

Chapter Text

He’s never thought about how hard it must be for cats in the wild to clean all the blood from their fur. He has been at his sink for twenty minutes, and still it wouldn’t fully wash from his muzzle. It didn't help that he still felt a bit sick.

But this was better than nothing. He tried to ignore the blood still fresh in his mouth. Sam took a deep breath before leaving his bathroom, there was still some stuff to collect from Vincent’s room. At least he still had enough left in him to prepare before he left. It wasn’t much, but even the small amount of food and the few scraps of cash were better than nothing. He even found the key to the stairwell, might as well use it.

He couldn’t see if Sybil was in the wall still, but he waved goodbye either way. Making his way to the doors, trying not to look at the bodies piled next him.

With a satisfying click the doors opened with ease.

It was a short trip down, every step tense. Sam held his breath as he opened the door to the second floor. Nothing immediately jumped at him, a good start and when he looked around the corner, someone! Someone who looked, well they wore a large cloak but at this point Sam's not getting picky. The figure noticed him in turn, tilting their head slightly as Sam approached. He tried wiping off some of the hard to clean blood from his face, his fur was still damp from his attempts to clean it.

The cloaked figure initiated the conversation.

“Are you… lucid, yes?”

Oh thank god this was a sane person. He almost shouted out loud right there, it was easy to overlook the creepy cloak and mask, he wasn’t alone.

“Yes! I’m Sam, I uh, my curtains were open a bit. But I swear I'm still sane.”

“Ah, well I am Aster, I am an astronomer. I’m researching our current astral predicament.”

He scratched the back of his head for a moment.

“Perhaps you can help.”

Sam’s ear twitched,

“With what?”

Aster perked up, keeping his hands behind his back as he walked back and forth.

“Right now, we're gathering data.”

“You know, the other night, I had the strangest dream. Normally I take no stock in hokum, but surely this must be a sign!”

“In my dream, there was a shimmering liquid pouring from dark tube. It poured out and splashed onto the floor, falling through cracks.”

“I remember feeling like I had to scoop up the liquid... to hold it and carry it with me. But nothing worked. It slipped through my fingers…”

“I just KNOW it means something! If you find anything, show Jasper on the ground floor. His purview is the collection of materials.”

Alright. Cryptic. Sam didn’t know what to make of the dream. He guessed that Aster could tell Sam’s confusion.

“Just, I have this feeling you might be able to help.”

“I'll have to think about it. By the way, is there… Anything dangerous on this floor? Well, more dangerous than eye zombies.”

“Well there have been some threats, not many. So far it seems we are safe. There was something strange at the back of the hall, but I haven’t had the time to investigate it as of yet.”

He did see a small glint at the end, a large hole blocking off the other side. Might as well take a look, hopefully it would be something helpful.

The hallway was all but normal, a few doors creaky floor, yet something felt off. He could feel his face twitching, the air felt heavy. Buried in the miscellaneous rubble was a small key, twenty one printed on it. He felt tense walking back, he could hear crunching and strange slimy sounds from the other side. Oh, he could hear it all the way from here. Every squelch and scrape clear as day. Sam began to shuffle away, the lights looked weird, flickering and dulling, yet Sam could see… perfectly fine? BANG. Nope. Don’t think about it now. The boarded up door was banging outwards, a growl growing as Sam sprinted down the hall. In shock it extended before him, as though it were made of flesh. Twisting and turning. CRASH. He could feel massive footprints tromping behind him.

Every single strand of fur was on end. The hall just kept going and going, shit. More holes in the floor. There was a path forward, but Sam didn’t have time for this. It was getting closer, everything was shaking. No time to think, just, go. Go. Go. Go. Barely noticing the gaps he was leaping. It was beginning to look clearer, he could see Aster’s figure growing closer and closer.

Freedom. Aster turned suddenly, small pinpoint eyes widening as Sam bounded towards him. Light was growing more bright, yet the thing did not give up chase. Sam made a leap of faith, get to the other side of this hole. Practically feeling the hot breath on the back of his neck as he barely made it.

Gun. On the ground in front of him. He was never one to use firearms, hell he’s never even shot in his life. But he grabbed for it as the beast was upon him. Using the many arms within its mouth to grapple Sam, throwing him against a wall. Sam took aim, missing a shot while the beast began to open its mouth wider and wider, threatening to swallow him whole. He rolled out of the way, accidently kicking one of his slippers into the beast’s mouth.

Finally with this opening, he unloaded the whole clip into the beast, watching as it flinched back in pain. At one point he had gotten the thing’s eye, a disgusting burst of goo showering the ceilings and walls. It gave out one last ear shattering roar before it retreated to whence it came.

Sam was panting, heart beating furiously in his chest, it was evening. Pocketing the gun, he could use that later, when he had more ammo. He took the small key out of his pocket, all of that, for this? The apartment better have a whole week's worth of food if this is what he had to go through to get it. He walked up to door 21, the curiosity was killing him. Slipping the small key in, the door gave a satisfying click.

“Oh, um come in.”

There were a cacophony of clicks and whirrs as Sam opened the door. Freezing in place as the large, cloaked figure approached him. It stared at him for a while, the mechanical noises only intensifying as it squinted its eyes. Sam’s ears were pinned back, tail hitting the door. Fight, kill, fight, fight.

“Sam?”

“Oh, um i-it’s me Lyle. You know, we uh used to work at the convenience store! I’m uh it t-took me a bit to recognize you. I-I mean, you…”

Sam put his claws away, when had they come out? The figure was starting to ramble. Lyle? Didn’t ring too many bells, but he really didn’t remember much from the convenience store, well other than that bitch of a manager.

“I uh, no idea who you are. Sorry.”

Lyle paused for a moment, fiddling with the edge of his cloak.

“Oh. That’s too bad. I was, really hoping you’d uhm remember me.”

They sat there in awkward silence for a few moments before Sam spoke up.

“Look, Lyle. I’ve had a very interesting day. So, was nice meeting you but I should probably go…”

Lyle clutched his cloak tighter, he looked worried as he shifted around.

“W-well you can always come back! You-you’re always w-welcome here. And if you really n-need it there’s a uh passage to the first floor! But uhm i-it’s in my bathroom.”

Sam noted that down for later, tomorrow he really wants to rest, maybe go clear out the places he’s been. But he felt exhausted. Waving goodbye to Lyle before heading off to the stairwell.

The first day of the apocalypse couldn’t have gone worse. Lost your slipper to a monster, killed your own neighbors, and now you have some weird object to collect for what could honestly be a cultist. And you’re a cat can’t forget the eldrich thing in the sky turned you into a fucking furry. His fur still felt stiff, where Vincent had stained it red. It felt like paint was in his hair, and once again he began to rub his face, focusing particularly on his right paw until. Wait, you’re. Sam brought his arm down, sticking his tongue back in his mouth. You’re not an animal, just take a shower like a normal person.

Sybil greeted him when he walked through the door. He didn’t really want to talk about today, so he went straight to the bathroom to shower. It was a strange feeling, looking down at himself like this, trying to not get shampoo in your face when it too was covered in fur. At least the blood had fully washed out. People wouldn’t think he’s feral. And these clothes should definitely go to the wash once he's made it to the ground floor.

Just as he was getting out, he heard a knock on his door. It sounded frantic. Shit, he tried to shake off his fur, but it was to little avail. By the time he had gotten through two of his towels, whoever it was just started shouting.

“ANYONE IN HERE? THE LIGHTS ARE ON.”

Sam shouted back from the bathroom, hastily putting his wet fur into some pants and a shirt.

“YEA, JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE.”

He looked through the key hole, a normal looking woman, was holding a large sack over her shoulder. When Sam opened the door, the woman stepped back.

“I, uh, I’m not going to attack if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She shifted her weight, looking Sam up and down.

“Got some stuff on me, been scavenging. Interested in trading? Can buy some things off you if you need as well.”

He looked at her stock, really he was in desperate need of medical supplies, the little he had used was almost all that he had. Almost sold her out of bandages, and got some medicell as well. Could put it to use with the chemistry set he got from Vincent’s.

They both said their pleasantries, waving goodbye before Sam closed the door.

It was getting too late, he really just wanted some sleep at this point. Even if he was still soaked to bone.

He curled up in bed, exhausted from, well, everything that happened today. Though his whole body felt heavy and sore he could feel himself drifting off, already beginning to snore as he softly fell asleep.