Before The End [In Our Hands One-Shots][Closed] Read 1227 times

Krystal Itzume

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Before The End [In Our Hands One-Shots][Closed]
« on: December 08, 2014, 07:58:00 am »
We Met In A Liquor Store Trope

The blond clerk who’s name always eluded her was smirking as he observed her looking over the options.
“If I were you,” he started, “I’d go with the largest, strongest bottle of vodka you can carry, and about ten energy drinks.”

The woman looked over at him, mimicking his smirk as she put a hand on her hip,
“Yeah? You think that’s what I need for this criminal law case?”

“Nah, I think that’s what you need for going to law school in general,”
he joked. He knew what she did. She was in here often enough, and always, inevitably, got the same small bottle of rum, and every now and then, some bitters. Whenever she ran out. “Or maybe a good bottle of merlot, and some chick flicks. Legally Blonde?”

“I hate that movie,” she answered him as she reached for her usual bottle, “Bimbo gets into Harvard and I get…here.” A sigh parted her lips as she put the bottle on the counter. “This.”

“Again.” But he rang it up with a smile that suggested he really wasn’t judging her. She put the card into his hand when he asked for it, and it was swiped. “Same time next week?”

“Maybe,” was the response. She turned to exit, but just as she reached the glass door, she paused. Outside, someone was staggering about, looking quite ill.

“What is it?” She’d been standing there too long.

She pushed the door open without answering and gave a call,
“Hey, are you okay?” Maybe they were just drunk.

That hope vanished when the individual looked up at her with bloodshot eyes and mouth hanging open, blood staining their chin and a queer, hissing sound escaping their throat. The black-haired woman didn’t need to ask twice. She let the door shut as she stepped back, right into the clerk who had moved to get a better look of what was going on. The creature outside ran into the door, scratched at it, beat against it.

“What in the hell?”

The woman shook her head.
“Do you have a radio?” She asked, tilting her head back and up so she could look at him.

He hopped over the counter and brought one up onto it,
“Lock the door.” He said, and she stepped forward to do that, grateful that the human-looking thing didn’t seem capable of opening the door on its own. The radio was tuned to a news station.

The report that was coming across was not what either of them wanted to hear.

“…in your houses, in your business, and lock the doors. The national guard is being brought in to deal with this, so please, remain inside and do not go outside unless it is an emergency. I repeat, an illness that has spread across the world has caused people to lose their minds and violently attack anyone they come across, so please remain in your houses, in your business….”

The two exchanged a look.

The woman offered her hand,
“Hello, I’m Alice Evers, and it looks like you’re my partner in the zombie apocalypse.”

He reached out and took her hand,
“Dane Darst, and I hope to hell you don’t plan to tell the zombies its illegal to kill people.”

“Nope, there aren’t laws for zombie actions yet, after all.”

They shook over the counter.
“C’mon, I have a gun over here. You’ll need it.” She hesitated, but did walk around.

“You don’t think the national guard is going to be successful?”

The look he gave her said it all. He didn’t believe it. He put a gun in her hand, not the shotgun which was apparently hers.
“We’ll hope, but how much good has the government ever done for you, eh?” Her understanding was clear. Not to mention, the government probably created this in the first place and then it got out of hand. “We’ll move out of here tonight when the things might not see as well.”

“They might still be alive. I mean—”
but she cut herself off when she heard a scream. She looked out, and saw the thing slobbering on the window look away, too, to witness a man being torn apart by a group of the sick-looking. “…or cured.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, “ain’t no reason for you to die, though.”

“I’ve never shot a gun before.”

“Well, you’re gonna learn.”

She did not learn that night. That day, they watched the situation escalate from within the liquor store, and say people killed. They never saw the national guard. When night fell, they crept out.

It would be that morning she'd learn to shoot. She'd become one of the fighters in the group that she and Dane eventually made their way to, when the national guard fell and civilization toppled around them. 


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Re: Before The End [In Our Hands One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #1 on: January 11, 2015, 12:10:31 am »
We met in a hopeless place…

A knock on the door.

Stan opened it, a confused expression overcoming his features. “Yeah?” The kid at the door was holding a bag which looked to be a bit too heavy for him

“Hi… are you the owner?”

“No. I’m just the help. It’s a nursing home kid, whatcha want?”

“Oh… I’m here to look t the computers and telephones.”

“Ain’t you a bit young for all that?”

Vincent smiled easily. “I’m a fast learner.” He explained. “You going to let me in? I have my I.D if you’re concerned… and I can give you my boss’s number to call if you’re really concerned. I’m just here to make sure the staff have their computers and phone lines up and running.”

“Fine. Get your ass in here kid.”

“Vincent.” He corrected.

“Alright Vince, get your ass inside, I’ll show you to the staff room.”

“So, what do you do here?”

“I ain’t one for small talk Vince.”

“Ok…” The kid went quiet, simply following Stan through what seemed like a maze of corridors and rooms till they came to the empty staff room.

“Empty for now, they’re doing med rounds. You’ll have about half an hour before it goes shit crazy in here.”



“Thanks Stan.”

“You gonna be o.k on your own? You need me for 'owt?”

“I could use a hand with a couple answers as we go along, I promise to keep it totally professional. No small talk.”

Stan nodded, and parked his behind on the edge of a desk, watching as the kid got to work, answering his questions as he went along.

It didn’t take as long as Stan thought it would for Vince to get everything set up and working, however, the staff hadn’t returned yet, which was unusual. He hadn’t even seen anyone run to the canteen next door for a quick caffeinated pick me up.

“I’m all done here.” Vince had already packed up and was ready to go. He saw the look on Stan’s face though. “Is there something wrong?”


A body smashed against the glass part of the closed door to the office; blood streaked down as it slid to the ground. Something was dragging it backwards.

A bloody hand hit at the glass.

“Shit!” Stan cursed. “Knew there was a reason I always carried this. Get behind me and don’t get lost." He told Vincent as he pulled out a gun from his side.

The door opened and outside the office was chaos. A mess of blood, guts and remains of elderly service users in various states of being… eaten alive.

Something rushed at them, there was a quick shot from the gun, a thud and Stan grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the scene. “Let’s get out of here kid.”

Once in the car, Stan had started driving and hadn’t stopped. Vincent had been hugging his legs for the past hour.

“You alright kid?”

Nothing but a nod.
« Last Edit: January 11, 2015, 12:12:38 am by Q »