I sort of went off the deep end with this one. Oops. A Zombie Apocalypse AU. Content warning: Death. Implied violence.
Even though it was impossible to forget, Mike was sure to keep his memories close, a constant reminder of all that they had lost right under his fingers. He could feel the notches in the worn wood each time he picked up his bat. They burned his fingertips each time he swung to save his own life. Five marks scratched into the handle of the weapon he held close at all times. Five marks he stared at without fail each night before fitful sleep took him.
Five memories that he’d rather not have, but that he’d never allow himself to leave behind.
The first notch was for his father, carved several days after the world Mike had once known fell apart. The news had broken at mid-afternoon and the phone lines were immediately useless. No matter how many times Karen, frustrated to tears, punched in the number to Ted’s office, she got nothing more than the buzzing of a dead line. Ted had not come home that evening. Or the next day. Or the next. After that, Hopper suggested they assume the worst.
Mike ran his fingers over the second notch and felt a thick lump grow in his throat. Hopper.
They would never have made it out of Hawkins without him and it had been critical for them to leave the town. Hopper never explained why, but Mike figured it was safe to accept that he knew something they didn’t. After taking on a job at the Lab, Hopper always seemed to know something they didn’t. Mike would never forget the look on his face; the set expression of fierce determination. He’d never forget the words on his lips; Go. Now. Uttered with such untroubled satisfaction and surety that they had done just that.
Mike pressed into the second notch and held in a sigh. Was it horrible he had cried when carving a mark for the Chief when his eyes had been dry for his father?
The third notch was the worst. Mike couldn’t touch it. He could only look, his gaze hard and his chest tight as it had been when he carved it.
Dustin had never been one for this world and Mike suspected that, after several weeks of grotesque horrors, he just gave up. In retrospect, Mike believed he had seen it in Dustin’s eyes for a long while and wondered if he should have said something. Could he have changed something?
He tried not to dwell on those thoughts, as they always led to the question Mike dreaded most. Am I cut out for this world? Lucas was tough as nails and determined. Will had experienced hell and survived once, of course he could do it again. Max was fearless, smart, and quick. And El…El could protect herself. Her entire life had been spent learning to endure. In himself, Mike saw none of the things he saw in his friends.
Yeah, the third notch was the worst. Everyone had looked at each other in shocked, horrified silence until Jonathan had stepped forward, tears in his eyes. Mike had to turn away into El’s shoulder, his hands coming up to shield his ears while El whispered comforting words to him.
Jonathan. He was notch number four. He had left camp one day with Steve and had never come back. Steve returned with a trunk full of canned goods salvaged from a store eighteen miles out and a glassy look in his eyes. No one said anything as the car door slammed shut and Steve cut a harsh path to Joyce’s tent, his feet throwing up dust as they dragged along the dry ground.
Steve got reckless after that. Detached and impulsive, he was notch number five. It was Nancy who stepped forward that time, but there were no tears in her angry eyes. Mike noticed, days later, the same glassy and distant expression on her face that he had seen on Steve’s and Mike worried that his sister would become notch number six.
He wouldn’t let that happen.
“We don’t have to do this,” Lucas placed a hand firmly on her wrist and looked at her earnestly, his imploring eyes meeting hers, hard and cold.
“We do,” El said hoarsely. She shook free of Lucas’s grip and watched him sink back against the wall, defeated, before she placed the knife against the wood. She felt numb, her mind detached from her body as her hand began to mechanically scratch a sixth notch into the handle of the bat.
Description: When Stiles’ phone buzzed and lit up with the image of Lydia with two chopsticks in her mouth, he answered immediately. “I thought I told you you can’t keep calling me up for meaningless, mind blowing sex, Lydia”.
A horny commando in dark armor
slid into eons of flowing dust
dragging me up and into the shelter
of a buttress, I was stripped
and he caught a faint
but unmistakable whiff
of fresh-crushed mint, then he mounted me
thrusting into an irresistible glowing sky
of packaged chicken dinners.
The one thing King Roan finds that he can’t do and the one thing that Raven finds she doesn’t mind so much turn out to be the same.
There is very little that King Roan of Azgeda cannot do well. Raven learns that annoying fact within the first few weeks of their meeting. So she tends to latch on to the few small things he fails at with the utmost zeal. One of those things, it turns out, is dying. Or perhaps more accurately, staying dead.
She notices it for the first time after joining Clarke and the others in Polis. Ontari’s body lies sprawled on the floor from where it had unwittingly helped to bring an end to the destruction ALIE had been crafting. Clarke clings to Bellamy’s arm, her eyes still hazy and the breath still rasping out in spurts as she tries to comprehend what she’d just been shown in the not-so-accurately named City of Light. Raven hoists her leg over the casualties of the incident, both those who are actually dead and those who are struggling to face the real world now that they have become so accustomed to a ‘perfect’ one.
And then out of the metaphorical ashes of each of their lives steps Roan. Well, more like staggers. Even the Ice King isn’t immune to bullets and his handsome face twitches slightly with each movement, further jostling his side where it is still lodged. She thinks to leave him there, sweat dripping into those fierce eyes and rough hand clutched around his broad side. She thinks to leave him, she swears it. But somehow leaving him turns into an exasperated scoff and her hand wrapped around his bicep, tugging him to sit down on some scrap metal while she lays strips of cloth at the ready and prepares to dig out the bullet.
“Prepare yourself your highness, I’m more accustomed to breaking bones than fixing them and I’m no Wanheda.” She jostles his arm more roughly than she means to and he grunts a little before gritting his teeth. She tries not to let it affect her; the pain of this man whose people have caused her own so much suffering. Let the great King Roan of Azgeda walk in her shoes for a day, weakened and vulnerable and in pain.
“Not quite sure the Commander of death is what I need right now,” he grits out, “I’ll just have to settle for you.” He’s closer now, deep voice low right beside her ear and slight smirk gracing his royal face. And yeah he may be joking and hot as hell, but Raven doesn’t play second to anyone and she lets him know it when she yanks the bullet out without preamble, dropping it in his lap as she walks away without a backward glance.
The world we now live in, is a world where humans are not just the dominant species. Discovered in 1737 Western Europe, a new species named Monsters, were bor. They were created, by a vengeful spirit, named Lucifer, to terrorize the damned creatures he helped create. He looked for the most evil, sadistic creatures that he knew would do damage to the lives of many, but, there wasn’t many like that, surprisingly. Eventually, he found one that went by the name of Misdius Cearo. He was tall, toned and down right gorgeous. Misdius was a man who always had the ladies flocking towards him, which was great for him. After love making he would slit their knecks and hang their heads off the ceiling. He never felt anything romantic when it came to the intercourse, neither did he when it came to women.
Eventually, the towns people discovered his killings, after their princess went missing. They nailed him to a stake and before they burned him alive, he said, “ May the devil be in my favor, and demons be cast upon this treacherous world.” The burning was pushed away, and around twenty five to thirty graves were made for all the women who were viciously murdered.
Lucifer took this chance and created something out of the woman killer. Misdius sprouted out torn up looking wings, and a tail with the end of it being a scythe. Misdius was transformed into a being of pure evil and terror, that would soon terrorize the upper grounds with his demonic presence.
Lucifer ended up making more and more monsters, totalling up to two hundred. The world saw how much hell was bringing upon their disease infested life, and they had to stop it. They decided to make the MHA (Monster Hunter Association), in 1739, to help exterminate the monsters.
One by one, the monsters, and hunters, dropped like flies. All, but Misdius died off in the next ten years. Outraged, Lucifer casted Misdius to stay in the human world and recreate his army again.
And so with that, that’s were we begin our story.
The year now is 2016. Our new setting is in San Antonio, Texas, at The Creeptacular-an amusement park focused on all things scary and creepy, but half of the large amusement park is now abandoned, with woods seperating the abandoned and non-abandoned part.
“Come one! Come all! And welcome to the Creeptacular!” A tall showman exclaimed.
He shook the hands of young children and greeted parents. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy was in the air, while people talked among themselves and the sounds of games was what was heard. A certain pair of eyes watched from the woods, and smiled to himself, under his mask.
“Delirious. It’s time for the meeting,” A man made of fire, said in a bored tone.
“I know, I know, Wildcat,” Delirious said sighing under his plague doctor mask, and turned his back to the amusement park.
Wildcat poofed his way back, only moving five meters every poof. Delirious followed behind, floating just over the surface of the wood’s floor. They passed the gigantic ten foot clown head, that was laying on the floor with an eerie smile on it’s broken face, and passed the old carousel. Eventually they made their way to the circus looking tent that had a bunch of large holes on the top, and dirt patches at the bottom of it. When they entered, a large, rectangular, scratched up table was in the center of it, and lights hung from the top of the tent. A few of the lights flickered and we’re broken, but you could clearly see what, and who, was in the tent.
A few of the others were there, already. Which were Evan, Daithi, and Mini. Evan was the Jersey Devil. He spawned the lower body of a goat, a snake tail, two crooked looking horns, and two ripped up wings. He was usually their aid, who they would go to in time of need.
Daithi was a ghost. He died at a young age, but somehow matured over his ghost years. He was completely white, from head to toe. He had a paper bag with two circles cut in it so he could see, but the shading from it made it seem like he had none. He wore baggy jeans, with with a flannel shirt, and some beat up looking sneakers. Chains fell through the floor as he floated a few feet in the air, talking to Evan.
Mini was in the right side of the table, spinning in his velvet, torn up chair. A wheel was missing so he replaced that with stone. Mini was a shapeshifter, but today he was in his actual form, or the form he was born with. He had brown hair, styled to the side, black glasses, a orange tee-shirt, and skinny jeans, with his favorite black Converse shoes on.
Evan was the first one to notice the two, and greeted them with a smile. Daithi looked over and waved, while Mini kept spinning, but yelled out, “Hey, guys!” Delirious and Wildcat greeted them, and took their seats. Wildcat sat next to Evan, trying his best to not catch the chair on fire. Delirious sat next to Mini, but scoot closer to help him spin faster, using his blue glowing shadow.
Eventually, the rest of the gang flocked in. Cartoonz, a demon, fell from the top of the tent, creating another hole. He muttered a ‘ah shit’ and dusted himself off. He dragged his ball and chain to sit at the table, right next to Delirious. He grinned at everyone and slammed his head on the table, falling asleep.
Ohmwrecker, a ghoul, walked in and simply pulled out his chair, sitting next to Wildcat. He crossed his arms and said, “well hello there everyone. Isn’t the fog right now so disgusting?” He giggled lightly and looked over everyone.
Ohmwrecker, and Cartoonz were the stronger ones of the gang. Ohmwrecker was a ghoul, so his food was everywhere he went. On top of that, he has 10 spikes that stick out of his body that grow whenever he feels threatened to protect his head. He could easily sprout out energy from his hands too. Cartoonz was a full blown demon, unlike Delirious. Cartoonz was born a demon, not created into one. And unlike Delirious, he shows no mercy to any age, while Delirious, and the others, showed mercy to those of a young age. Toonz was the type of demon who took life from intercourse, and didn’t mind getting hurt or his hands dirty. He usually used his satanic powers to turn other’s insides their outsides, but that was just a hobby.
Everyone quieted down and focused all their attention on Evan. He cleared his throat and looked over everyone.
“ We have an issue,” he said in a low tone, “ the MHA are growing and getting into our territory. We have to start being more vigilant and put our senses on high.”
The monsters quietly conversed between each other and then Mini spoke up. “ When I was talking to Brock and Brian, they said that they were moving more to this part of Texas. If I find anything else, I’ll tell you all instantly. ”
Brock and Brian were two of Mini’s friends, who just so happened to be the head of sector seven and sector fifteen in the MHA. They didn’t know that Mini was a monster, because, well…he looked human. You couldn’t even tell he was a monster unless you see him shift, which he’s pretty good at covering up from others.
Evan nodded his head, and looked at Ohm. “ I want you to start watching over the carousel area,” then looked at everyone else and gave them a specific area to look over. They all nodded their head and one by one all left to go do something. Evan sighed and slumped into his large torn up sofa.
Heels clicked through the hallway as a tall, broad man shuffled through the halls in a black suit. His hair pushed to the side and his briefcase moving side to side, following his hand movement. He looked over at the sides of the hallways as the lower MHA hunters bowed at him, and held their tongue. He made a sharp turn to the right and walked down the hall, until he came to double, metal, bolted doors. He placed his thumb in the scanner next to the large metallic doors, and once it said all of his name, he walked in, setting his briefcase down.
“ About time, dumbass,” a short drake skinned man said angrily at him.
“ Calm down, Marcel. I was only late by three minutes,” the man said in an Irish tone.
“ Three minutes!? You fucking bagel! You were late by thirty seven minutes, Brian!” Marcel exclaimed, angrily.
Brian rolled his eyes and looked up at the large screen in front of him. It had a picture of a man in his early forties, torn to shreds from his neck to his lower torso.
“ What’s this disgusting mess?” Brian asked nonchalantly.
“ That is William Backster. He was walking home from the grocery store, at two thirty-five p.m., and was found five hours later, in a ditch, right next to his home by a few joggers,” a man with a half shaved head said piping in.
“ Any evidence that this was a monster that killed him, Brock?”
“ The teeth marks found on his shoulders and the claws that ripped his body can be concluded that it was an Adlet,” Brock changed the screen to a picture of the humanoid dog like creature.
“ That’s a big doggy!!!” A small man said, with a squeaky voice, in the corner, stuffing his face with gummy worms.
Brian just looked at him quickly to see his happy face munching on the large bag of sugary worms.
“ You must have diabetes from all that sugar,” Brian said with a slightly annoyed tone.
“ You must have a stick far up your ass if you’re this much of a party pooper, mom,” Lui pushed in more gummy worms and started to spin in his chair.
Brian didn’t even respond and just looked back at the screen. He read over the data that was given on the creature.
Lui was head of sector two. His nick name was “small destroyer”. He was the second oldest of the twenty sector heads, at the age of thirty. He was notorious for his large sweet tooth and love of gummy worms. And scythes.
Marcel was head of sector eight. He was known for his smart mouth and his short temper. He was great at handling pistols and small pocket knifes. He was only of the age of twenty three.
Brian was the head of sector fifteen. He was of the age of twenty three. He is best known for his smart remarks and his amazing use of a morning star.
Brock was of the age of twenty four, and the head of sector seven. He was known for his calm and sweet behavior, while still holding his ground. He is best known for his use of sickles, also.
“ Alright boys. I think it’s time to go hunt us this damn dog.,” Brian grabbed his suitcase and headed out the door. The other three followed behind him, holding suitcases as well.
“ Awww!!! My gummy worms are all gone! Brian! Brian! Can we stop for more!?” Lui asked in an excited tone, flinging his long suitcase around.
Brian pushed the case out of his face and sighed, “ why the hell not? I’m thirsty anyways.” He pushed the down button and got into the elevator. The four listened to the crappie elevator music until they made their way to the first floor.
“ Let’s go get that fucking Adlet bitch,” Brian threw his fist in the air in a victorious way, while Marcel grunted, Lui rambled about gummy worms, and Brock just smiled.