Chapter Text
The sound of the body hitting the ground echoed through the cracks of the city walls. The stifling silence momentarily interrupted by the last thread of Reki’s old life escaping his grasp.
His best friend had jumped off a building.
There was no goodbye, just a carefully folded note held down by his discarded shoes. Placed on the same roof that led to his death.
Reki peered over the ledge, watching the disfigured body that lay flat on the ground. Blood seeped out of it and onto the concrete, sinking into its cracks. He listened to the moans of the undead as they made their way to their next meal. Served to them on a fucking silver platter.
With trembling hands, Reki picked up the note, pushing the shoes to the side. He held the paper as if it would disappear. It might. He carefully opened it, revealing the messy, slightly smudged handwriting across the lined paper.
I can’t live like this anymore. I’m sorry.
Eight words. He didn’t know how to react. One, two, three - His friend couldn’t even leave the world with a proper goodbye. Four, five, six - Reki couldn’t even say he was surprised. Seven, eight - his heart beat wildly, it was too much for him to bear.
His hands clenched at the note. His gaze remained on the eight words, reading them again and again until they were woven within him.
The first thing Reki had felt after hearing the thud was anger at the abandonment. Red steam fogged his brain, it filled his lungs and burned each breath he took.
Then, the anger melted into fear of what was to come. It pooled into his blood and found his heart. He didn’t know if he could face the world alone. He wanted to scream, but no sound would come out.
When the fear hardened, Reki was left with the crushing realization that they would never laugh together again. Their innocent dreams of normalcy would never come true.
The grief reached his eyes, leaking out in a horrible river.
When the first tear hit the note, Reki knew he was done for. He couldn’t stop his mind, overflowing with pain. His breathing was erratic, each gasp left his body trembling. Paper crumbling beneath tensed fingers. Sobs clawed through his throat. His wails harmonized with the screeches of the cannibals below.
This broken requiem was the last thing he could offer his friend.
Thoughts raced through his mind, each making his chest heavier. Reki Kyan’s best friend is dead on the ground below him. The unrecognizable corpse was the boy he swore to survive with. The note he left was all that remained. Reki had no one left. The undead had taken everyone he cared about away from him. His friend, his mother, his father, his sisters. Reki covered his ears, he couldn’t stand the sounds of…
the sounds of—
—shrieks in the living room.
He could hear shuffling, wet squelches, and the faint noise of chewing.
He watched as his mother took chunks out of her own daughter. Feral. Deranged. Vicious. Unhuman.
And all Reki could do was watch, the fear paralyzed him. He stood frozen on the stairs of the home that no longer felt like his own.
The blood stained the floors. The blood painted the walls. The blood was pungent, a smell that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Each inhale stung, spreading through his lungs like a curse. His heart was pulsing like it was going to tear out of his chest any second. He didn’t know what to do, not in the slightest.
Her head twitched slowly. She jerked like a malfunctioning machine until she was looking directly at him.
That wasn’t his mother, not even close.
The look on her face would be engraved into his memory forever…
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His words spilled out, weak and desperate.
He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not when the body attracted so many of them. He hauled himself up, doing his best to ignore the pounding in his head.
Down the rusted stairs and through the abandoned corridors, Reki ran. He ran until he reached the door that was busted open, the room that was filled with all of their things.
The important things, like medicine, food, and clothes. The little things, which they picked up in hopes of saving what was left of their sanity. Each fragment reminded him of the loss.
The loss of the only person he had left.
Reki took a deep breath. His eyelids felt heavy, and his cheeks were sticky with the residue left from tears. He fumbled through their belongings, fitting the things he could into his worn-down backpack.
He glanced at the two baseball bats that remained in a corner of the room — one was Reki’s, the other was his friend's. He left him. He placed his backpack along his shoulder, then slowly made his way towards them.
He hesitated, but then picked up his own, ignoring the other beside it.
The bat was discolored, a muted tone showing its age. The wood was scarred, dented with small cracks. It was worn out, though Reki didn’t mind that.
After he finished gathering his things, Reki walked out of the apartment and into the corridor. The foul stench of rotting wood instantly filled his nose. He grimaced at the odor and gripped his bat tighter. The walls of the hall were torn, and fragments of plaster were scattered along the floor. Papers and other debris were dispersed among them.
The building itself was shabby, falling apart piece by piece. Stains clung to its walls like scars that refused to fade away. Overgrown vines and mold covered the little charm that it did have left.
He pushed open the shattered glass doors of the lobby, giving a final goodbye to this home.
Reki stepped outside, and the sun’s warmth covered him again. The layers he wore for protection left his skin damp with sweat. He stopped and turned his head, watching the undead devour the meal that was once his friend. He understood he wouldn’t be able to recognize the face of the boy he once knew.
Reki lingered for a moment before turning away, he would have time to grieve once he was safe.
The city buildings were close together, leaving the air thick and stuffy. There was little shade to hide him from the sun’s blaze, which made traveling during the day difficult. The city was mostly abandoned, and the few survivors that remained stayed out of each other’s ways. That is, unless they were looking for trouble.
Though abandoned, the city was swarmed with the undead. Some stayed hidden, lurking for their next meal. Others roamed around the streets, in slow, disfigured movements. The undead who had recently turned still mostly resembled a human. However, their skin paled, and their eyes no longer had irises, it turned pure white. Black veins started to form on their skin, almost as if their blood was rotting.
The undead that were turned months before looked inhuman. They no longer bled and carried a specific odor that reeked of decay. Their skin was decaying, falling off, until their bones were visible. The skin that stayed clung directly to their bones, defining each sunken feature.
Reki ducked into an alleyway, moving away from the main streets made the walk a bit more bearable. And it was safer to stay out of sight. Though the detour didn’t help with the smell. The stench of rotting corpses and trash hung in the air, every shift in the wind brought it back to his nose. He was powerless against the occasional gag when it reached him again.
As he walked, he noticed the faded paint spray of graffiti along the concrete walls. Some captured the carefree existence of the old world, others showed the undead painted in mocking caricatures. His boots crushed discarded wrappers and treaded through substances he’d rather not learn the names of.
At times like this, Reki couldn’t help but miss his old life. He missed the times when he could ease the tension in his mind, when a single wrong decision wouldn’t put his life at risk. He missed being able to run freely, now every step felt like a landmine. He missed being able to act like a kid, when he could whine to his mother about every little trouble he had. He missed having her to help him fix them.
He missed his sisters nagging him to stay with them. He wished he had played with them every time they asked. Sometimes, he even missed going to school, even if his memories weren’t the best. He wondered what had happened to his classmates or teachers. If they had survived the initial outbreak, and if they lived in fear like him.
He kicked a can across the pavement. There was no way of knowing, of course. After the outbreak, all communication lines went down. There were no more phone calls, emails, or even letters. The only way to contact someone was to track them down yourself.
And that was nearly impossible with the undead roaming the streets.
Finding a friend to survive with was a stroke of luck. That was, until…
Until…
Now wasn't the time to get distracted. Thinking about the what-ifs and people who were dead to him anyways. Reki broke away from the alley, entering one of the main roads.
The city looked forgotten, with cars left deserted in the middle of the streets where people had fled during the initial outbreak. Not a single light shone from any of the buildings, and the same went for streetlights and signs. There was no sign of electricity anywhere. The city was practically a dead zone.
Reki walked along the sidewalk, stepping over glass that littered the ground. Many of the windows from each building were left shattered from people trying to flee. He lifted his gaze up from the ground to the sun that was just beginning to set. An orange hue painted the sky, distracting him from the loneliness of the empty city. The light illuminated it, making it look somewhat bearable.
Shadows fell upon the shops. If he ignored the state of chaos they were left in, he could almost see the remnants of life. The shops were scattered along the city, many still having some leftover merchandise on their shelves. Reki made his way towards the corner of the street, where he knew a gas station resided. There were still cars parked at each gas pump, left abandoned since the day all hell broke loose.
A small convenience store sat behind the gas pumps. Though Reki still had some leftover supplies he took from his old base, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get more. Especially since his future was uncertain, and he didn’t know if he would find any stores later on.
He pushed past the cars, many of their doors were left open, clearly abandoned by their drivers. One van had bloody handprints smeared across its side. Reki kept walking, slowly making his way up to the smashed window.
He was careful, making sure not to crush any shards beneath his foot. He placed a hand on the wall and peered into the shop. Squinting to make out any signs of life.
That’s when he saw it.
An undead.
An undead limping toward a boy.
The boy’s light blue hair fell into place above his shoulders, his eyes danced in fear. He sat on the ground, back against the wall. The boy made no effort to run.
Maybe the despair from Reki’s earlier loss fogged his judgement.
Maybe it was the sheer gratitude for realizing he wasn’t the only one left in this broken world.
Or it could’ve been the recognition for the same helplessness Reki often saw in himself.
But, something in those blue eyes, something in the way that boy’s shoulders shook as they pressed against the wall, something in his scarred existence compelled Reki to act.
As if the hands of fate were pulling his strings, Reki’s body dipped and he ran his hand along the ground.
There was no room for doubt, no time to waver.
Reki didn’t hesitate as he closed his hand around a rock. Nor did he stop himself from stretching his hand back and hurling it straight at the undead.
He knew it then, for better or worse, this action would rewrite his tragic story.
And he didn’t regret it.
Not one bit.
The rock smacked against its head with a quiet thud, though that was enough to grab its attention.
Panicked blue eyes met his, and it was all worth it.
The undead took a step back from the stranger and jerked its head, twisting towards the noise, looking for where it had come from. Drool slipped from the corner of its mouth.
Reki stood tall, bat gripped in his hand. He was prepared for what would come next.
Taking his best fighting stance, Reki raised his weapon. Glaring at the monster, he gave a silent prayer for the other’s escape.
But, in a sudden movement, the undead let out a snarl and whipped its head back towards the boy.
Shit.
Reki’s eyes flickered to him, noticing that he hadn’t yet moved. He was still paralyzed from fear.
Making more noise around the undead was like asking for a death sentence. Though they were dense, the undead reacted to noise almost instantly.
Reki knew all he had to do was stay silent if he wanted to live.
He knew if he walked away now, he’d leave unharmed.
But, there was a sliver of hope in those blue eyes.
Reki couldn’t pretend he didn’t see the relief that bloomed across the boy’s features. The way he sighed and slumped against the wall. The thought racing through his brain: Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be alone anymore.
Reki knew he was doomed by that thought.
He cupped his mouth with his hands and took a deep breath.
The scream tore from his throat, echoing through the empty shelves.
The boy scrambled to his feet.
His blue eyes didn’t look back.
The undead lurched toward the screech.
Each shredded note wove the thread that tied them together.
Every reverberate of his shriek marked the beginning of their tragic tale.