zombie thread


Elijah wasn’t exactly a “people” person even before the whole world fell apart, so it was a shock to even himself that he teamed up with this group of rather salacious men that he came across on his trek from Virginia towards Louisiana where he knew at least one of his brothers were. Last he knew, Finn was somewhere in Europe and Kol was in Las Vegas. Rebekah was probably with Nik, who he knew had been in New Orleans. The only reasons Elijah wasn’t is because he had a business trip over in Virginia and had left a couple weeks before the reports started coming in. When it grew serious, he tried to get home, but soon the highway grew too much and the cities fell and Elijah was left wondering and hoping that nothing happened to his siblings. 

“Ready to move out?” the self proclaimed “leader,” Sid, said as he moved to pick up the rifle that he never left out of his sight. He even slept with the thing. Elijah resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he carefully ran his trusty knife against the rock he held, sharpening the blade. He had expressed his opinion the night before when he was told by Sid and his lacky, Jeff, that he had no interest in this particular raid. Elijah was all for finding buildings and cleaning them of supplies, but there was no reason to attack other people for it. “You’re the hunter or you’re the deer. Pick one,” Sid had snarled to him, but Elijah refused to back down. So they agreed he didn’t have to participate, but if he wanted to enjoy any of the “spoils,” he would have to go with them. At first he resisted because quite frankly he didn’t care, he could get his own, but finally he agreed. At least then maybe he could keep them from killing the person, even if they did take their stuff. 

It was dusk, the light just falling down over the mountains. Elijah hated being outside so late, but he knew they wanted the shadows to be able to hide so the person–or people–they were going to find didn’t see them. Elijah sighed as he dropped the rock and stood, inspecting his knife, and pushing it into the holster at his hip. He loathed guns, but he did have a couple of those along with his hunting knife and a couple smaller ones, one each shoved into the side of his boots. He shoved his arms through the straps of his bag and tugged it over his back, nodding silently to Sid and Jeff as they eyed him. Apparently they thought he was going to argue again, but he was finally starting to see they were a bit too stubborn to listen to reason. 

Sid and Jeff took the front with the rest in between them and Elijah who took up the rear. Part of the reason is because if he decided to just split off–which he had been thinking about more and more recently; he was only there for “safety in numbers” and all that jazz–then it would be easier just to sneak away and hide in the woods from the back of the group rather than the front. It was times like that he wished he still had his car, but that was lost in DC when he was trying to get out of the city. 

“I see a fire,” Sid said, pointing through the trees, smirking viciously. Elijah sighed silently as they all began to spread out into formation, well all except for him that was. He wasn’t participating, as he said, so he hung back so the others could get on with their devilish deed and get out before anyone truly got hurt. He did, however, bring out his knife just in case any of the undead decided to come up and try to take a bite out of him. 

He rolled his dark eyes as he heard Sid start in on the defenseless person that just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, Elijah wandering closer slowly as Sid demanded his supplies. Elijah tried to tune them out, leaning against a nearby tree, and actually managed to do so at least until he heard the sound of the victim’s voice. He pushed off the tree immediately, his dark eyes full of shock, alarm, and immediate fury. 

Because that voice belonged to his little brother, Nik.

Nik was being hurt. 

There would be hell to pay. 

Elijah’s face curled up into a sneer and stalked towards the group as fast as he could, fingers reaching for his hated gun before he even knew what he was doing. Elijah wasn’t a murderer, but he was Nik’s protector, he was all of his sibling’s protector. He failed them growing up, especially Nik, and he wouldn’t be doing so now. It was his main mission leaving Virginia to find his brothers and sister again, and he wasn’t about to let Nik be the blood on Sid’s grimy fingers. 

The gun blast rang out quicker than lightening, poor Lenny’s face being blown to hamburger from the close range shot as Elijah appeared seemingly out of nowhere behind him. Sid, Jeff, and the others all spun around in alarm and at least Jeff had the decency to appear frightened as he stared down the uncharacteristically livid face of Elijah Mikaelson. 

“Unless you want that to be every single one of your men,” Elijah said, his voice deceptively calm and controlled as he stared over the smoking barrel to the leader, “then I suggest you leave this man alone and find somebody else to offend.” Apparently Walt thought he was joking because he snarled and lunged, but Elijah’s gun went off again and Walt slumped down to the ground, as dead as Lenny. He tilted his head to the side. “Anybody else?”

(( @waywardsweethearts ))

An unearthly stillness hung over the woods that night, the sigh of wind through brittle brown leaves the only sound.  Moonlight washed the gnarled trees in a grey pallor, but deeper within the copse a flicker of warmer light could just barely be seen - the soft orange glow of a campfire reduced to embers.

In the shelter of a massive oak a huddled figure lay unmoving beside what remained of the fire, almost unnoticeable beneath the tarp he had wrapped himself in.  A battered backpack leaned against the tree trunk beside him, close at hand in case he needed to leave in a hurry.  A close observer might have noticed the shape of a shotgun barrel tucked just out of sight next to the sleeping man - in a place like this, it would be unwise to ever leave it out of reach.

He wasn’t far from the city, just deep enough into the surrounding woods to ensure that his campfire couldn’t be seen from the road.  It might have been more comfortable in one of the numerous abandoned buildings, but he had learned the hard way that it was far safer outside city limits.  The bruises hidden beneath layers of muddy clothing were an aching reminder of his last attempt to seek shelter in this city - he had been lucky to get out alive.

It was rare for Flynn to ever sleep soundly.  Muddled dreams gave way to sudden alertness, and for a moment he wasn’t sure what had woken him.  Perhaps a sound, a flicker of movement, the prickle at the back of his neck that told him he was being watched.  He kept his eyes closed and stayed perfectly still, waiting, listening.

The sound of footsteps was unmistakable.  Cautious and practiced, barely audible, but there nonetheless.  And they were coming closer.

Flynn resisted the urge to jump up immediately, weighing his options, waiting to see what the intruder would do.  It didn’t seem likely that they were infected - that tell-tale cloying stench wasn’t there, and they moved like they knew what they were doing.  It could have been an ambush, but he doubted that any of the gangs in this area would send only one person.

He didn’t move until he heard the rustle of canvas next to him - the intruder had picked up his bag of supplies.  In one movement he was sitting upright and the shotgun was cocked and aimed at the figure standing only a few feet away from him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The gun wasn’t loaded - he had run out of shells a long time ago, and they weren’t easy to come by these days.  But with any luck, the would-be thief wouldn’t have to know that.  He kept his aim steady as he pulled himself to his feet, ready to make a move should the thief prove uncooperative.  That bag held the last of his food, his knife, odds and ends for barter - all of it too valuable to risk loosing.

“Drop the bag.  Now.”

Put a ♪ in my ask box and I’ll put my playlist on shuffle and make you a starter based on the next song that plays

For everyting a reason“ by Carina Round

They say that everything happens for a reason. Levi wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to — or should — believe it. He used to believe in a lot of things, after all, either of his own free will or because of what people said, and some of them did him no good.

"Was it necessary?” He asked, not looking back at the person standing behind him even once. He didn’t have to; he knew who it was, he could feel it in his bones. “To pretend that you’ve died, to make me mourn you for months, and to make me think that I’ve lost you? And to come back now like nothing happened, Erwin? What was so damn important?”

Maybe he should turn around, stop talking to headstone that won’t answer him anyway, and start talking to the person that could.

Zombie!AU {closed;} {scarlettdemise;}

He doesn’t know how it started.

One minute, he’s a happy, healthy thirteen year old, hanging outside with his two sisters. They sit and cloud gaze. It’s a comfortable silence and Death City is just as peaceful as ever.

Within the next minute, he and his sisters are separated, and screams of agony and fear are ringing through the air. He doesn’t know what else to do, he wants to go back and find his sisters but some disgusting, foul-looking creature oozing slime is swinging at him so he has to run. He runs for his life.

In a few days, Death City is a wasteland, overrun by the repulsive beings. Kid has found his sister, one of them, and returns to his old home to attempt to find the other. They don’t get far, as the house is now full of zombies, and he recognizes one as his math teacher. The last he remembers from then is a man coming and taking him and his sister to a camp downtown.

That was four years ago, yet the humans have not succeeded in taking back the city. He sits with his back against a wall, looking at other kids about his age reloading guns and other weapons. He’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice a girl hovering over him.

“Do you need something?”

lordfruitloop  asked:

{I'm sorry I know we have too many threads but zombie} "D-Daniel... You've been bitten..." He said with wide eyes. "You.. You're... We... Oh god."

“Vlad–n-no…” Danny choked a bit, laying on the ground against his side with his mouth agape. “There has to be a way to st-stop it.” He spoke in a strained voice, his veins in his left arm showing more visibly, seeming to slowly spread up the limb.

Zombies, Run! Cross-stitch

So it’s been a long time coming, but I finally finished my ZR cross-stitch a couple days ago! I forgot to take photos until I was already at the post office, but here is about a month and a half of finicky-but-fun work ^_^

And have some close-ups for texture as well:

Cotton floss, Aida cloth, and a lot of time, but I think it was worth it. The world always needs more zombie-themed thread craft.