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1825 DAYS

Summary:

Five years after the world ended, survival had become nothing more than a habit.

Notes:

Please enjoyy

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

NO, NO, NO, NOOO. This cannot be happening right now. No… it’s just a dream. Book’s brain screams as he runs from the horde of zombies on their trail. From their right, a few more join the chase, hunting them through this old market that nature has reclaimed in the five years since this nightmare began.
"On the left!" Force says in my ear as he lies on my back. There is a store with a shutter. I think I can close it before those creatures are on us.

Force continues to breathe heavily. He was injured while we were collecting supplies for the group we were staying with. Those people left us to die when some idiot from their side dropped a heavy box. That idiot will probably survive… but what about us? I shove into the store and drop Force. This is the only chance of survival. If even one of them gets in, it’s over for both of us. I pull the collapsible door with all my might. It’s stuck. I realize it too late.

In my five years of survival there have been many times I came close to death, but this makes it all too real. This is the end. As I brace myself to get my flesh eaten by these monsters, my hands still holding the shutter suddenly move as I feel it slide down. Force is up. He is pulling it with me. He looks at me as we both pull with all our might, and it finally closes. The zombies, with no sense of self, keep pounding on the metal shutter. But still, the sound of my heartbeat is louder than anything else in the darkness. Then

OUCH!

My head jerks as Force hits me. “Are you stupid?!” he shouts. “Why were you just standing there, posing and presenting yourself to those creatures?” His voice is louder than the chaos on the other side of the door. I have no words to defend myself. “Are you so keen to die? Stop pretending. Just walk out I’m sure they’ll enjoy you!” That hits a nerve. “Do you think I was pretending? It was stuck! What was I supposed to do?” My emotions were running high “Can’t you just try a little more?” Force screams. He sounds too distressed. “You’re always ready to die. Why can’t you try a bit harder? what if one day I'm gone”

“I’m trying my best,” I say, trying to find him in the dark which isn’t hard since he’s shouting in my ears. "and you are going no where", grab his shoulder and guide us through the restaurant. It was an old sit down local breakfast stop, probably run by some grandma who is long gone judging by the state of the place.

There is no source of light in the narrow shop, and the vents above the shutter are so covered with dust and webs they let little to no light in.
I analyze the room as I help the still pissed off Force deeper into the shop. This area is probably the kitchen, judging by the utensils. The place is covered in dust and garbage, but there is still running water in the sink. With electricity long gone, only the manual water supply systems work in this new era.

I fill a nearby glass and bring it to Force. He looks in pain from his injury. The energy he spent helping me close the shutter and his outburst have drained him. He says nothing as I help clean the blood off his side He keeps wincing but acts strong for no reason. "Okay… I’m sorry," I whisper. All the adrenaline is wearing off. The realization hits how close we were to getting eaten alive. A fate worse than death. This is not the first time Force has saved my life. Before this, he saved me from those perverted investors. Honestly, I’d personally prefer dealing with zombies.

I clean the wound. The gash is almost two inches deep and six inches wide. Looks like claw marks. There’s a fifty-fifty chance of infection from zombie claws it depends on the mutation level of that particular zombie. I feel tears prick my eyes as I fear the worst.

Force, probably sensing what I’m thinking, gently caresses my cheek. "It's okay, Nothing will happen," he says, trying to reassure me But the blood is gushing out, which cannot be good. The smell of blood will attract more creatures.

The banging is still going on at the entrance. Once the smell spreads, every nearby creature will come here. I need to stop the bleeding as soon as possible. bringing out my first-aid kit, which can hardly patch a paper cut but something is better than nothing. I wrap some clean napkins to soak up the blood and tie gauze around his waist to hold them in place.

Looking around, I realize this is my life and it has been for five years. To think we were celebrities at some point in our pitiful 34 years on this earth. Back when we didn’t live in constant fear of getting eaten… or starving. There was a time we used to hang out in spots like this after long filming days, just drinking to our hearts’ content. We used to have petty fights too. Now, when we face death every day, everything seems meaningless.

I look up.

Force seems to be having trouble breathing. "It's okay," I say, moving his sweaty bangs away from his eyes. His hair is getting long like in 2022 when we were shooting for Enchanté. I would never admit it out loud, but his hair is the most attractive part of him. Not that he’s ugly in any way but his long hair makes him ridiculously handsome. Okay, Book. Now is not the time to admire your miserable friend. He needs to lie down.

"You stay here. I’ll see if there’s somewhere upstairs you can rest… and if there’s any food," I say in my softest voice. Force nods. I help him remove his backpack. Mine was lost in the rat chase. There was nothing sentimental in it but there was food. Force's bag had the first-aid kit and other supplies. I rummage through it and find a knife. Short-range weapon, but still better than nothing.

The minimal light coming from the ventilators gives the space a vintage feel like the ones they tried to recreate in the Lovers and Gangsters sets. Pity the apocalypse broke out before the series could air. My throat tightens as I think about the past. Taking a deep breath to shake it off, I move up the narrow staircase. The shutter downstairs is still getting pounded by those monsters. I don’t know how long a rusty metal shutter can last under so much pressure.we need to find an escape from the roof and block the staircase. The building is sandwiched between two others. The terraces are probably connected. Maybe we can escape from the roof. Leave Force’s bloody bandage behind so the zombies get distracted. Then we escape.

As I reach the upper floor, I enter a living area. The windows have paper stuck on them probably a feeble attempt to hide from the cruelty happening outside. The place looks unused but covered in dust. No one made a camp here. It seems untouched for five years capturing the last moments before this world turned into a living nightmare. Touching this sacred place feels like confirming that the world has truly ended. The normalcy in this room muffles the banging downstairs. My brain tries to drag me back five years into the past.

But these are only illusions. Nothing will go back to normal. There is nothing left except survival.

I shake off the emotions. Force is injured. I need to focus.

Sweeping entire place to check for hidden dangers, then go back down to bring him upstairs. There's a gate between the landing and the living room. I can block it for extra security. Downstairs things don’t look good. There are tiers in the shutter. It won’t hold them much longer. I rush into the kitchen. Force looks like he’s about to pass out. removing one of the napkins from his wound. It’s soaked in blood. I dunk it in water and spread the water across the kitchen floor so the zombies will stay in the kitchen and won’t follow us upstairs. it will buy us some time. After that, I help Force up, grab his bag, and climb the stairs.

The sounds of the zombies outside are getting louder. In the end of the world there’s nothing like PTSD. But if there were, this would be my trigger. The pounding on metal.

We reach upstairs. I help Force onto the couch. Then securing the door as best as I can locking it and pushing heavy furniture in front of it. After that, I close all the windows. Finally, I look at Force. He looks tired and weaker than I’ve ever seen him.

"How do you feel?" I whisper.

"Sleepy," he says.

"Just have a nap. I’ll handle it."

He laughs but then winces from the pain."wow p'book taking charge", he teases.

"Just sleep. I won’t leave you behind if they break the door."

"Yeah… let’s leave before that happens," Force mutters. I brush a few strands of hair from his face. He's already asleep. Looks like we’ll be staying the night. There’s no way we’re traveling in the dark. My nosy side kicks in and I begin exploring the place. It gives me nostalgia. Unbroken furniture and no bloodstains are rare these days. Most places are infested with zombies, and camps rarely give anyone private rooms unless they’re high in the hierarchy. After roaming around and finding nothing special, I return to sit beside Force. My reason is to guard him.

But really…I just want to watch him sleep. In these five years, I’ve rarely seen him sleep properly. Force has crazy standards for sleeping places, which are impossible to fulfill in crowded camps. he has really hard time adapting. So this might be the first time he’s actually sleeping peacefully. Staring at his flawless face reminds me of when we were just two kids trying to make it in the industry. All those strict rules. No privacy. Crazy investors. Sometimes our smiles were fake. But we were happy. Happy to be together. Planning to stay together for a long time. Maybe not in the ideal scenario but we kind of kept that promise. It's been five years since that hellish Day Zero. Everything changed.

We had an event. Our fans were gathered in the mall atrium with signs. They were all happy and we were happy too, singing Force’s OST from Melody of Secrets. Pity that after that day, Force never sings. He firmly believes in living in the present. Whenever I try to bring up the past, he gets mad. Because there’s nothing we can do to bring it back.

Sometimes I wonder what the point of surviving is in a world where everything is ending. We can’t grow food anymore the soil is too toxic. Monsters hunt us everywhere. Abandoned nuclear facilities are polluting the environment and making it radioactive… which seems to make the zombies even stronger.

It’s a losing battle.

My hand drifts to the necklace around my neck.

A TomaFox necklace.

A fan gave it to Force and that fan died on Day Zero right in front of him. after that he gave it to me he doesn't like red and orange anymore nor he likes anything related to fox and tomato. he doesn't acknowledge his actor past ,his love for cats and he don't like making friends

Maybe we all kind of died on that day cause After that, I had no particular interest in surviving. knowing both my parents worked in a public building. Their chances of survival were slim to none. we went to both our houses but it was a futile attempt to hold on to our past ,nothing is worth living here for but The only reason I’m still alive…is Force.

If there was no Force, I probably would have died on the first day. Surviving for Force and surviving with Force brought us closer than we ever were. But we still don’t dare cross the line between friendship and lovers. In a world with no stability, there’s no room to test our fragile relationship.

What a pity. I look at him again.

Then A loud crash echoes from downstairs.

Looks like they broke through the metal shutter.

The noise wakes Force.

We look at each other.

But his eyes look different.

His irises are pale.

The corners of his eyes are red.

He was infected.

I'm keeping my promise I'm not leaving him behind.

Notes:

I'm trying to get back on the track with my writing please enjoy this for now