Germany x Reader - |Armageddon|

“What’s a girl like you doing in an apocalypse like this?” 

 
The silence was deafening.

You had to remind yourself that the stillness was a good thing. No scrapes of limping, fleshless feet against the sidewalk; no groans of the undead; no snarls of a cannibalistic freak of nature within radius of your earshot. The streets were nearly empty, you were alone, and you heard nothing but the wind. This was all good.

Except, it didn’t feel that way.

Even with your back against the wall of an alley, a handgun in your palm, and a sword strapped to your hip, you still didn’t feel safe. You never did.

You were in the middle of an abandoned city with no one but yourself, with no exact place to go, and no shelter at all. How could anyone feel safe in a time like this? Every minute that passed, you felt lucky to be alive. Shocked, even, that you had made it this far.

…I don’t deserve this, you thought to yourself. I don’t deserve to be here. Even if you were grateful to be living, there was also immeasurable guilt, horror, and grief woven into your life that made it difficult to keep going. Guilt for abandoning them, horror for the world’s real-life nightmare, and grief for his death.

You didn’t even like to think about the latter.

It only made you want to go back.

The thought alone, the memory, caused you to reconsider your actions. But… it was too late. You were in too deep. You had already made your decision and there was nothing you could do to change it; no point in mourning over the consequences. You had lost everything—but you chose to, because you thought it was the right way to go. You didn’t dare to regret your path.

This way, no one would get hurt.

Well… no one would get hurt because of you, that is.

About four days ago, you weren’t completely alone—as you are now. Four days ago, you had friends. You were a group. Survivors.  A clan of six that hunted together, ate together, killed zombies together and had fun together. Everything a last-remaining human could ever want. There was a base. A safe place to sleep. A warm bed next to the ones you cared about more than anything else in the world.

You had been with five of your friends—and that was an amazing feat in itself. Not because you didn’t have many friends in The Before, but because having more than a couple friends left here in The After was something to marvel at. Why?

Because most of the people you knew were already dead.

Your mom. Your dad. Any other close relative. The rest of your friends. About seventy percent of humanity had already been wiped off the face of the Earth—and either turned into a flesh-devouring monster or buried with a very improper funeral.

Most would assume you’d gone mental for abandoning your last remaining friends.

But it was something that had to be done. You used to call them, ‘the Allies’. Mainly because it was them, including you, against the world.

Unfortunately, you weren’t ready for the zombie apocalypse. No one was, but you hardly deserved to be grouped together with people that were as strong and capable as your friends.

Back in The Before, everyone liked to think that they were ‘ready’ for the zombie apocalypse; it was mostly due to TV shows like The Walking Dead or video games like Resident Evil. But when the end of the world actually came around, there was no one prepared for it. Truly nothing could protect the Earth from a zombie invasion, after all.

Just like in the countless shows, books, games, and movies, the apocalypse had started with a strange disease that somehow allowed the dead to come back—and with a menacing hunger for human flesh.

It was three years since the outbreak, and by now the planet had gone to hell.

Zombies were all over the place. Earth became an undead armageddon.

You’d felt completely useless for the past few years. Your five friends were all you had, and you did nothing but drag them down. They were natural born fighters, but you weren’t. Countless times they’d almost lost their lives because of you.

And then, it happened.

This was why you left. You couldn’t handle to see them die. So you ran away from the base while everyone was asleep. You’d been residing in an abandoned limo bus with them at the time.

It was the night Francis died. You couldn’t take another death. You were solely responsible for your dear friend’s, and frankly, you wouldn’t be the one to blame for the next.

They’d said they didn’t blame you for Francis. Instead, they praised his bravery for saving you. Alfred called him heroic. Yao gave him his utmost honor. Ivan placed self-grown sunflowers at his burial. Arthur… well, Arthur was never Arthur again. That was… something.

None of them felt angry with you because of Francis, but there was still hidden resentment within the grief. It was basically lingering in the air, even if no one truly acted upon it.

It mostly emanated from Arthur. You could never tell what Ivan was thinking, and Alfred hid any bitter emotions with his charisma, but Yao had told you everyone felt disconnected since the loss. Honestly, you should have known; it was obvious.

You’d gone solo for a whole four days, and it was miserable. But at least you weren’t hurting anyone. Still, you missed your friends dearly and in the back of your mind, you hoped they were looking for you.

…They probably were. No, you knew they were. Too bad you wouldn’t allow yourself to be found.

The sky overhead was clouded and gray, somehow matching your emotions. The building you were leaning against was ancient, and it wasn’t entirely comfortable, but you still were hesitant to leave the alley. At least here, you couldn’t get cornered. You could either run left or run right—there was also the safety of having your back against something. Nothing could attack you from behind, at least.

However, you clearly understood that you had to move. And soon, before the quiet of the city was disturbed by growls of the not-yet-dead. You needed to find shelter; you’d finally made it into a city, and there was a higher chance of finding a place here to stay for awhile.

You already knew you’d leave eventually. That finding a house and residing here would only be temporary, you knew that both from experience and from Daryl’s line—Sooner or later, we run.

You didn’t mind. For now, you were grateful.

Taking another glance out of the alley, you decided it was safe to move.

With only the vigilance of an apocalypse survivor, you crept out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. Overturned cars, heaps of litter, fallen telephone booths, shattered windows, and slain zombies instantly came into view. The city was no longer pretty, of course.

Strewn all over the cement were broken glass, used bullets, and splatters of blood. Looking back up, you noticed what appeared to be an apartment building. If you squinted, you could detect an open doorway. Either zombies were lurking inside, or there was a possible place to stay not too far from you.

You betted against the former. Taking more cautious steps, you soon made it across the street and over towards the building.

The opened doorway was on the first floor, so you didn’t have to go up the outside flight of stairs. Good. Those things were a nightmare to run down—easy way to trip when running from a horde of flesh-eaters.

As you carefully peeked inside the small apartment, you happened to catch sight of your reflection. A mirror was on the opposite wall of the entry, and it showcased your horrible condition.

You hadn’t bathed in the four days you’d left your group. The sweat and grime from your harsh travel stuck to your body, and your hair was an oily mess. Your t-shirt was dirtied with blood and clung to your torso like a second skin. Some of that blood was yours, some was not. You hadn’t even noticed the pain until now, when you saw the wound on your shoulder. Luckily, it wasn’t from a zombie bite, though it was from a fight nonetheless. You hoped it wouldn’t worsen due to your mistreatment of it.

Ignoring your appearance, you stepped inside the apartment. It was fairly clean, as if it belonged to a small family in The Before. There was a little table pressed against the hallway with picture frames of a mother and her young son, along with a vase of dead flowers and knickknacks such as a cheap platter, loose buttons, and used batteries.

Well… it seemed no one had resided here since the family’s so-called death.

Just as you were toying with the buttons and reminiscing of the innocent past, you heard a sudden noise from upstairs.

Instantly on guard, you readied your sword. A footstep followed almost directly above you. Weapon ready, you prepared yourself as something crept down the apartment’s tiny staircase. By the movements, you couldn’t tell if it was either a zombie or a human.

Its slow, uneven steps made you think of the worst. Carefully, you tiptoed for the wall past the staircase, this way you could slice the zombie or zombies before they could catch sight of their prey.

Holding your breath, you aimed your sword for whatever was about to pass. You couldn’t see unless you peeked from beyond the wall, which you now had your side against. You had the upper hand here, and you weren’t about to let it go to waste.

As the footsteps inched closer, you tightened your grip on the handle. You wouldn’t use the gun unless you were in extreme danger, plus the sound really did attract more zombies. You knew better than to shoot when you could use something else, like a sword or ax.

Just as the being was about to walk past the wall and give you an opportunity to strike… it stopped. Confused, you slowly moved away from the wall, carefully peeked out—

And nearly screamed.

Instantly you’d been faced with an enormous shotgun. The firearm nearly pressed against your nose, you inhaled sharply and jumped back.

The person didn’t lower his weapon. Instead, he stared you down, electric-blue eyes narrowed and mouth in a scowl.

Once you calmed down, you looked him in the eye. Silently, you frowned back. Now, he had the upper hand—his gun was still pointed at your face and yours had been moved to your side due to the previous shock.

He kept on the displeased expression, and after a few moments, finally spoke. “…What are you doing here?” He asked, never daring to move away his weapon. You couldn’t run or even look away from him with that shotgun pointed straight at you, and he knew it.

“Oh, you live here?” The question came out before you could stop it.

His face loosened up just the tiniest bit, though he was still on-guard. “No. This isn’t my house,” He eyed your sword and gun. “…Drop them.” He demanded with almost no emotion.

Oh, how badly you didn’t want to drop them. It was the last thing you wanted to do in that moment. However, those cold blue eyes were undeniably intimidating. The man’s tall, muscular frame and sharp features didn’t help him look any nicer. You dropped your weapons.

“Now kick them over here.” He was only about four or five feet away, but he obviously wasn’t going to lower his weapon to bend down and pick yours up.

Curtly, you followed his order. They slid against the ground quite loudly, no doubt scratching up the wooden floors.

Once the gun and sword were shoved away from your reach, the male took another hard look at you. Not once did he point the firearm in any other direction but towards you.

Glaring back, you crossed his arms. His eyes happened to notice the wound on your shoulder. “…How did you get that?” He gestured towards the gash with the tip of his shotgun.

Disliking his shameless scrutiny, you retorted, “Does it matter? This is no way to treat a lady.” Normally you didn’t care to be ‘treated as a lady’, and you’d had your fair share of injustice (the mentioned wound was proof), but come on. This guy was by far the worst.

He tilted his head, “You don’t look like such a lady.”

…You actually agreed with him. As you’d noticed before, your face was covered in soot and grime, your hair was filthy and your clothes were full of sweat, blood, and rips. “Well… so?” You didn’t want to care about what he thought, but the fact that he was clean, neat, and smelled like soap only made you feel a tiny bit self-conscious. “It-It’s not like I’m trying to look like one.” You couldn’t help but pout.

At this, his features softened once more, now completely an average expression much unlike his all-business one from before. “…What’s a girl like you doing in an apocalypse like this?” He sighed, finally lowering his shotgun.

You picked at your wound. “This isn’t a bite. I know that’s what you’re thinking. I was actually stabbed by someone when I got caught trying to steal their group’s ammunition.”

He narrowed his eyes at you again, “Then if I help you, do you promise not to steal any of my ammunition?”

Your eyes widened a bit. He was going to help you? Well, who said you needed his help? “…Excuse me?”

“I’ve got a place to stay, although it’s not here. I’ve got medical supplies. If you want help, stay here until I’m done searching this house.” Without waiting for a response, he turned, picked up your weapons, and walked back upstairs.

As soon as he left the room, you sighed and plopped down onto the nearby couch. Did you really want to go with him? How did he know you were alone?

…Was he safe?

Although, he did say he had medical supplies. However… there was always the chance that he was lying. Did he seem like the malicious type?

The truth was, no. He’d been very cautious at first, as if you were the enemy; as if you were the one not to be trusted.

Besides, where was this place to stay he was talking about? Was it here in the city?

Before you truly realized it, you had made up your mind.

About five minutes later, he came back down the stairs. He was carrying a clear plastic bag of stuff he’d taken from upstairs; you saw its contents were new batteries, a few flashlights, and… a pack of dog food? “I’m done here. Have you made your decision?”

Standing back up, you replied, “Depends. Are you gonna give me back my weapons?”

He tossed you a confused look. “Of course. But you are only to stay until that wound’s healed. Afterwards, you’re back on your own. Deal?”

Sounds fair enough, you thought. “Deal.”

 

XxXx Armageddon XxXx

 

The walk towards his base was quiet, but at least you didn’t have to be as cautious. He led the way, keeping an eye out for any approaching zombies. You covered his back, scanning the streets with your sword prepared.

Luckily, neither of you saw any impending dangers. Ludwig as he’d introduced himself, eventually stopped in front of a large glass building. “This is the place,” He grumbled.

A bit confused, you looked up. It appeared as though it used to be an office building or business corporation in The Before: many stories high, countless rooms, desks visible from the glass walls. “We’ll be staying here?”

He nodded stoically, “Follow me. Watch where you step. I’ve set many traps among the floors.”

“And which floor will we be staying on?”

“The highest one.”

You followed him up. Several times you almost triggered some of the traps.

Eventually he led you up to the highest floor; the biggest room. Once you stepped in, you nearly gasped at its size. It must have been a showroom of some sort, or a large meeting room.

The floors felt like laminated cement. There were four glass walls; the room’s shape was a rectangle. The ceiling was so high that you needed to tilt your head all the way up to see it. Metal shutters were rolled down two of the wall-like windows, and you noticed they operated by chains. This type of room must have been off-limits back in the pre-apocalypse, you knew for sure.

Earlier you’d noticed many old desks on the side of the building, broken and smashed as if shoved out a high window. Well… this room explains that, you thought. Instead of it containing many small offices and cubicles like the previous floors, this one seemed to have a living room, infirmary, and kitchen all in one enormous room.

Overall, it was neat and clean. Tidy, even. One wall was lined up with guns and ammunition; another was lined with tools, weapons, and objects to construct traps. The center had a couch, a coffee table, a nightstand and a battery-operated lamp. Towards one side of the room were a working refrigerator and a few counters. In one corner were a steel operating table, some cabinets, a desk, and a chair.

Before you could utter a word, you heard the sound of scraping nails against the floor. Alarmed, you readied your sword towards the quickly-approaching creature.

As you’d turned, you’d expected to see either a zombie or a person. It had become a natural instinct. Though to your surprise, it was neither—it was an animal.

A dog. German shepherd, to be exact.

“Berlitz! I brought you something.” Ludwig instantly bent down and reached into his plastic bag. So that’s why he brought dog food, you realized.

Ignoring his owner, the large brown-and-black dog looked towards you and growled slightly. He must not be used to new people.

“Down Berlitz,” Ludwig then glanced at you. “If you want to bathe, there’s a showering room down the hall. Buckets of clean water are inside, along with a few sponges and bars of soap,” He took another peek at your clothes and grimaced. “And you might want to wash your clothes while you’re in there.”

 

 

A while later, you were enjoying yourself. The showering room was quite luxurious, and the clean water felt cool and nice against your dirtied skin.

A few bottles of shampoo and conditioner were in the room as well, and you didn’t waste time washing your clothes and then yourself. Ludwig had told you to avoid scrubbing at your wound directly, and to just wash around it. He’d take care of the cleaning, stitching, and bandaging later, he’d said.

After you were done bathing, you dried off with a towel (there were neatly folded piles in the cabinets), and wrung out your clothes as best as you could. They were still a bit damp, but you didn’t mind. Living at the world’s end had taught you to accept limited conditions.

Here, things didn’t feel so limited. You’d found combs and hair gel in some of the cabinets, for God’s sake.

Now dressed and squeaky-clean, you exited the shower room and returned to the main room.

Ludwig was inside, sitting at the desk with a variety of first-aid stuff spread out on the operating table. He was looking through a few papers while Berlitz rested by his feet. “Ready now?” He asked once he noticed you in the doorway.

You nodded. In response, he pointed for you to sit on the table. “So… do you know what you’re doing?” You couldn’t help but ask.

He set down the papers and gave you an irritated look, “Yes, I do. I specialized as a veteran doctor after I resigned from being a military officer.”

Hmm, veteran doctor? So that means he was used to treating soldiers with gunshot wounds or stabs, you realized. Feeling a bit better, you sat on the table.

He stood up, sanitary gloves on, anti-bacterial wipes in his hand. “Now just…” He stopped directly in front of you and stared down at your bare shoulder.

“Hm?” You looked down. Why did he seem so hesitant? You were clean now, weren’t you?

“D-Don’t move.” He blushed furiously as he leaned in and pressed the towel to your wound.

The stinging feeling lasted only a few seconds. But the pain that spread over most of your shoulder was what made you realize just how small and thin your tank-top was.

It was the kind with spaghetti-straps. Was Ludwig really embarrassed from touching your skin that much? “Hey… you’re blushing.” You noted without thinking.

Eyes widening, the pink across his cheeks deepened to a shade of red. “I-I’m not… I was a doctor. I’m used to this.”

Yeah, a doctor who treated mostly men.

As he removed the wipe and placed another to remove the dirt, you noticed just how close his face was to yours. Even though you were sitting on top of the table, his frame had towered over your own, causing him to come close. You hadn’t seen his face this clearly until now, and with its adorable blush, you couldn’t help but think he looked cute in a way.

By now, your heart was pounding. You couldn’t even tell what he was doing. He could have given you a shot and you wouldn’t have felt it. You were too busy staring at his face—his combed-back hair, his bright blue eyes, and the streak of red across his cheeks. How could you have not seen before what a pleasure he was to look at?

He smelled like soap. You could hear him breathing. You’d felt a small puff of his warm breath against your bare collar bone. His strong arms brushed against your skin; you wanted to drag him onto the table with you.

Little did you know, the close proximity had caused major chemistry for both you and he.

The stiches came. Then the bandages. It had felt like hours, and you hadn’t realized how sleepy you were.

As soon as Ludwig said he was done, you fell asleep out of your pure mental and physical exhaustion.

Finally, finally, a safe place to sleep…

 

XxXx Armageddon XxXx

 

The sense of protection, warmth, and security bundled you up like a blanket, giving off the same serene feeling as soon as you woke up.

You stretched, never feeling so refreshed or at peace with the world.

The four metal shutters were down, except for one that was a third-open. It revealed a clouded, foggy, dark morning sky, which shed misty blue light into select corners of the room.

You looked down at the couch you were on. How did I get here? … Enormous pillows surrounded you like a cave. It was very comfortable. No, it was the most comfortable couch you’d ever been on. From its condition, it wasn’t expensive or new, but it was still soft, fluffy, and cozy. Your body heat had warmed up the entire sofa. It was completely broken-in; it looked like one of those couches you see in a movie’s old flashback to happier times—a loving environment; a family living room—like a fuzzy, tender memory from a troubled character’s innocent past.

You lay back down. You hadn’t felt this content and at-ease in a long time. Pulling up the thick, dark-red quilted blanket, you happened to notice a pocket watch on the coffee table. It told you 9. A.M. Berlitz slept on the ground next to you, like a real guard dog.

Before you could go back to sleep, the room’s door opened, thus revealing Ludwig. “Oh… good morning.”

“M-Morning. Where were you?”

He walked even more into the spacious room—placing objects down as he went—and replied, “I was just setting up more traps on the lower floors.”

No longer feeling sleepy, you sat up a bit more and responded, “Oh. Hey, I was going to ask…” You rubbed your upper arm nervously, careful to avoid your bandages, “…How did I end up on the couch?” You asked in a more quiet voice.

He came closer and set down a clipboard and pen onto the nearby coffee table. “Well…” He said it as if it were obvious, but the way he stubbornly avoided eye contact to hide his flushed face made it seem anything but normal, “I had to carry you from the operating table...”

Your face burned. “Oh,” You couldn’t help but feel a bit shy; by now you knew you were attracted to him. Your savior.

While the image of him carrying you in his muscular arms enveloped your mind, you didn’t immediately notice him plop down next to you.

“Miss _____... if you don’t mind, care to tell me why you were alone?”

“…Oh,” You shook off the thoughts, subconsciously making your ears redden even more. “I… I just…” Thoughts of Francis, Alfred, Yao, Ivan, and Arthur invaded your head. They pierced through your memory like knives and cut into all emotional stability. Within an instant, you wanted to cry. You missed them so much. “…I-I’m not ready. Can you tell me your reason first…?” Francis died for me. And how did I pay back the group? I abandoned them. How could I ever tell that to Ludwig?

“Well, let’s see…” Ludwig sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back into the couch. He looked upwards, as if recalling back his most distant memories. Down by his feet, Berlitz gradually awoke and rubbed his head against his owner’s leg. “I… was with a group of my friends. Kiku liked to call us, ‘the Axis’—because he believed we were all connected. Our families were gone; we had no one but each other.”

You nodded. Sounds familiar.

“But… Feliciano got attacked from behind when he was left alone. For the longest time, it had always just been me, him, and Kiku. And then…” He took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Then Kiku unknowingly received a scratch from a close battle and slowly turned into a zombie overnight. He’d… almost gotten me. I-I had to kill him, and that was…” He paused. You could tell he’d definitely gone through just as much emotional pain as you. “That was when I’d decided to travel alone. I was still in grief from both Gilbert and Lovino dying a year before; I didn’t want to see another death. Especially after Feliciano’s and Kiku’s…”

He had a number of deceased close friends; you only had one. For all you knew. He’d felt the same way as you did too—that he just wanted to be alone… to keep… the pain… away.

A few minutes of silence passed.

Alone. Both of you wanted to be alone.

…Or did you?

“Miss _____,” He said, cutting into your thoughts. His voice was clipped, full of authority. “You’ll have to leave once your shoulder’s healed.”

With that, he got up and left the room.

 

You figured you had another day or two. For the rest of the day, you got some rest. You’d desperately needed it, especially after all those horrible nights of ‘sleeping with one eye open’.

The day felt like a blur to you. Berlitz kept you company. A few times throughout the day, Ludwig came in to check on you and change your wound’s bandaging if needed. He also gave you food, water, and extra blankets. For wanting to be alone, he sure knew how to treat his guest. Although each time you thanked him, he just pouted and tried to keep from blushing. You could tell he wasn’t used to speaking with women.

By the next day, your deep cut still wasn’t fully healed. Ludwig often wasn’t at the base; he kept leaving to go find more supplies. However, he never failed to come back and make sure you were doing okay. Sometimes he would strike up a conversation. They were usually cut short, but he made you happy. Very happy. As did Berlitz, who you’d gotten quite attached to in the past couple days. Ludwig began to feel like a reliable friend.

…Did you have a home now?

Or did Ludwig still think your stay was temporary?

 

XxXx Armageddon XxXx

 

“_____... you left us…”

“It’s all your fault he’s dead.”

“You didn’t care that he saved you.”

“No one will ever trust you again.”

“You’re the most horrible friend anyone could ask for.”

“You’re going to rot in hell.”

“And we hope you first get devoured by a zombie…”

You bolted up, heart throbbing, body in a cold sweat.

Nothing but darkness surrounded you. It was probably the middle of the night, and all the shutters were down. Your breath came out hard and ragged, as if you’d just been running a marathon rather than having a nightmare.

You wrapped your arms around your torso, trying to keep warm. Goosebumps had covered your skin and your throat was dry. I had another dream about them… you thought to yourself.

Your body was shaky. Without thinking, you got off the couch, and noticed Berlitz was still asleep. I need to talk to someone, you realized. Where did Ludwig sleep again…?

As if in a horror-filled daze, you exited the main room and walked down the hall. You barely remembered Ludwig telling you which room he was staying in. Five doors to the left, wasn’t it…?

You entered the room.

“Ludwig—” Immediately you noticed he wasn’t inside.

“Huh, Ludwig…?” This was definitely his room. It was organized… for the most part. But on one corner, drawers were shoved nearly off their hinges, with scatters of bullets all over the nearby ground. The cabinets were empty. Once you glanced around the room, you noticed each drawer had been ransacked and stripped of its possessions.

Had someone else been in here…? That would explain the room’s messiness…

Of course, there was always the chance that Ludwig had left for good.

No, no… you found yourself thinking. He wouldn’t leave without telling me… would he?

For the past few days, you’d been nothing but a burden, you believed. And never realized it till now. Isn’t that what truly made you a burden? Is that what Ludwig thought of you?

…Is that why he left? Taking another look around the room, it indeed appeared as though most of the items had been packed up and taken away. It sure didn’t look like he was coming back. This can’t be… you’d thought he was a good guy. Strict, but honest and caring. Never did you believe he’d pamper you for a few days and then leave you to fend for yourself directly afterwards.

Or… was this all because he wanted to be alone?

Just the thought broke your heart.

As the realization hit you, the door flung open. Inhaling sharply, you turned on your heels only to see Berlitz come in, tail wagging.

How could this bastard leave behind Berlitz? you thought to yourself angrily. Within a few seconds, you’d decided. Yes, without a doubt, you were going to find Ludwig. And tell him…? Either that he was a bastard, or… thank-you for helping you. Maybe both. Maybe.

Most normal people would probably ignore his absence and continue to reside in the safe building, but you weren’t exactly the sanest person anymore. Armageddon had changed you. And at the moment, you were disturbed with unfamiliar emotional attachment and fury and unrequited feelings. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair. You had to let someone know that; even if you had to go find him and kick him in the Deutsch-balls for toying with your teenage hormones.

Loading up with two double-barrel shotguns, a few grenades, a handgun and ankle holster, a sword strapped to your waist and an ax harnessed to your back, you ran out of the building and into the night. You’d taken nothing but stashed weapons Ludwig must have forgotten and nothing else. No extra food or water bottle. No, you’d gone out for blood.

…Okay, that was exaggerating, but you were pissed off and on a floor full of weapons in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and there was no way you were going outside in any other fashion but S.W.A.T.-level ready. I’ll find you, Ludwig… you thought as you sprinted down the streets, checking alleys, Berlitz on your heels all the while.

Cursing his name, you continued to search for him. Where could you have gone? Why would you leave me and Berlitz like that?

Not too much time passed. With only the moonlight to guide you, soon you found yourself checking the empty streets. It was no use looking inside all the buildings.

As you were peeking past a restaurant wall… that was when you saw them.

Blinded by your anger, you had either been oblivious or ignorant to the presence of zombies. But the entire time, you’d been running, hearing nothing but your thoughts and Berlitz’s paws by your side. You hadn’t even been on the lookout for the undead.

At least, not until you were faced with a horde of them, moaning and groaning around one particular street.

Never had you seen so many all gathered in one place. They must have been attracted there by a sound—a gunshot, most likely—which only proved either Ludwig or someone else was nearby.

You hadn’t heard any gunshot, but the zombies were still gathered. You needed to run before they saw you.

Although, before you got the chance to turn, you heard a hiss from directly behind you. Nearly jumping out of your skin, you turned at full speed—only to see Berlitz had already jumped on the creature and clawed out its eyes. No bark; no struggle. This dog knew how to sic zombies.

“Thanks Berlitz.” You whispered as you began to run.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn on your life that you saw the German shepherd nod. As if in substitute to barking.

Momentarily putting the dog’s intelligence aside, you decided you needed to find safety. Backing away from the restaurant building, you turned into an alley.

There you found two more zombies, which definitely noticed you.

“Shit,” You cursed under your breath as you turned again.

Letting out hisses and groans, the zombies limped towards you. Walkers. These ones were fast, unlike some others.

As you ran past another alley, you were noticed by more zombies. You accidentally let out a scream in shock as four more crawled out from beneath cars, reaching their hands out for your ankles.

You lifted your sword, just as a group of six more zombies trudged into the street in your direction. I’m getting surrounded, you realized. They were behind you, to your left side, and in front, blocking your escape into the next street. You only had one option and that was to run right. Better to conserve your energy and get to shelter.

As you swiftly passed the growls and moans and escaped through the opening, you checked to make sure Berlitz was still with you.

He was— tongue panting heavily.

Just as you looked back up from the animal, you didn’t notice the red-painted sidewalk. It was higher than the rest of the street.

Your foot slid. Seconds after, your body toppled forward, harshly slamming your ankle against the sidewalk’s curve. “Ouch!” You shouted as you tripped and fell onto the cement, guns clattering to the ground.

The sounds caught the attention of zombies which were lurking inside the nearby store. The time it took you to get up stole precious seconds of your life as the herd of zombies behind you got closer, now at a dangerous range.

Bullets had scattered to the ground. You didn’t have the few seconds to pick them up. Heart pounding, chest heaving, and stomach burning, you managed to get up. A sharp pain in your ankle immediately caused you let out a whimper and slip back down. It was burning, like fire, down near your lower leg. The heat travelled up your sweat-covered body, giving you painful cramps and a slimmer chance at escaping. How long had you been running? You couldn’t even remember. But the injury only heightened the strain on your body, causing the stitches on your shoulder to weaken and a nearly unbearable agony on both your upper and lower body.

“…L-…Ludwig…” You heard yourself saying.

Berlitz whimpered by your side, nudging your back with his nose as you tried not to succumb to the physical torture. Running miles with a now-opened wound and several heavy weapons was no doubt too much on your body; especially with the addition of a presumably fractured ankle.

The zombies were getting close. They came at you on all sides. Six, ten, fifteen, your guess on their amount continued to rise as more and more appeared, mouths agape, hissing, their green-and-blue arms reaching out for your fallen form. As you finally scrambled to get up, pure adrenaline kicking in, you could actually see the hunger in their gray eyes—the way their faces sunk in, deformed, bloodied, falling apart, some missing chins or cheekbones. Dead flesh. Mouths covered in dried red blood. You could see their desire to consume you—in the most gruesome way possible—at all costs.

I can’t escape this crowd. They’re closing in.

Berlitz whimpered even louder, no longer afraid of making noise. He knew you had already caught the attention of the horde.

You didn’t have time to think. A full circle of zombies had now trapped you. No… I wanted to stay… alive…

…When suddenly,

A gunshot was heard.

The closest zombie towards you dropped to the ground.

More gunshots. One after another. Definitely a machine gun was in use.

You watched each zombie fall. You didn’t even flinch at the sound of the shots. Not one bullet even grazed you.

The rest went by in a blur. The next thing you remembered was absolute silence, up till Ludwig walked up and towered over you.

You were still halfway on the ground, one leg against the asphalt, once again staring up at your savior.

He let out a groan, and facepalmed. “Miss _____... Can’t go on without me, can you?”

Heart nearly pounding in your ears, you swallowed thickly. You couldn’t speak. Just a few seconds ago you’d had a near death experience.

Without another word, he glanced toward your swollen ankle. He let out another sigh and slowly bent down. Eyebrows narrowed, cheeks burning, and mouth in a pout, he reluctantly scooped you off the ground and into his strong arms. Just like how he must have done that other night.

Berlitz immediately jumped on him, affectionately nuzzling his head against his owner’s knee. He let out what sounded like a quiet, happy little bark. Relief.

“Miss _____...” He looked you right in the eye.

You felt nervous to be carried in his arms. But you could feel his heartbeat, his body warmth, and his toned muscles. No way were you going to protest—especially when you had a good excuse not to walk. “What is it?”

He began to stride. “I-I have a crutch at the base you could use…” By now he had looked away, embarrassed that you’d see the pink across his cheeks.

“Oh. Thank you.” In all that had happened, you’d forgotten one little thing.

Berlitz barked gleefully as he followed Ludwig back to the glass building. You snuggled up against his chest, not a care in the world. “…Let’s go home.” He told you quietly.

Later, he looked over your body for any possible scratches. Turned out, none were from a zombie, thankfully.

It was the first time you’d let him touch you. Bare skin, clothes off, his smooth fingers running over your arms, legs, chest and more. As a past doctor, this check-up should’ve felt normal, but you both could sense it wasn’t.

…Would it be crazy to fall for someone in the middle of a zombie apocalypse?

XxXx Armageddon XxXx

 

You’d thought the base was safe.

After all of Ludwig’s trap-setting, who wouldn’t believe the sanctum was perfect? Not even Ludwig would leave the place. The only reason you’d found his room a mess last night was because he’d been halfway through moving to a room closer to the main one.

But to wake up, walk down the hall, and immediately be faced with a zombie in the middle of a bloody feast was something most would consider perilous.

You’d inhaled sharply, jaw agape, heart kicking into overdrive. The sight was something you’d never expect to see in the Glass Building.

The zombie had its back to you, down on its knees as it shoved internal organs and bodily fluids into its rotten mouth. Blood was splattered all over the hall, fresh red liquid oozing down the zombie’s arms and dirtied clothes. Only the sound of slurping, dripping, and monstrous chewing came into earshot.

Your legs felt unsteady. Anger swelled up in your veins and coursed down your arms as if you were given a shot full of hatred. Almost without realizing it, you shrieked out of pure grief and self-loathing. This immediately caught the zombie’s attention, to which it saw a new prey and thus abandoned its prior canine meal.

As if on autopilot, you reached down, grabbed the handgun from your ankle holster, and shot the undead monster directly in the forehead. Your body had just about moved on its own, a sort of instinct. As the zombie dropped to the ground once more, you finally felt the tears run down your cheeks.

Berlitz. Berlitz. Such a good, intelligent, loyal dog.

Hearing the gunshot, Ludwig instantly peered out of his room. “Miss _____—?” His question was cut short as he turned, blue eyes falling upon the ungodly scene. “B-…Berlitz…”

Hands shaking against your gun, you quickly said, “We have to leave.”

Apocalypse-survival instincts now activated, his expressions hardened as he gave a curt nod and ran back into his room. You did the same, shoving only necessities into a backpack. We have to leave, you repeated in your mind.

If there were zombies on this floor, then there were no doubts that there were more down below. This was the highest story. Perhaps Ludwig had forgotten to set the traps after coming home last night.

Once you were done packing, you shouldered the heavy backpack and grabbed your crutch. Man, would this be interesting.

Soon, you met back up with Ludwig. Luckily, there were no other visible zombies in the hallway. He wore a backpack full of food items and water bottles, and carried a luggage stuffed with weapons and ammunition. “We have to use the fire escape. If a zombie made it up here, then the next few stories must be crawling with them. The first floor is probably overrun. We have no other choice.”

You nodded. Although running down several dozen staircases along with heavy bags and a fractured ankle didn’t seem entirely pleasant, you knew it would be safer than going down the inside stairways. “Okay.”

He led the way towards the building’s fire escape, running almost too fast for you to keep up. “I forgot to mention it, but I found a working car last night. The key is in the backpack. We can use it to escape the next few blocks, but after that, we need to go search for gasoline.”

You nodded once more. At least a vehicle could work as shelter until further notice.

Ludwig made it to the fire escape, and because you both knew he had more stamina and energy, he ran down the stairway first. You followed directly afterward, still not able to completely catch up with him.

Down on the ground, you could see the building’s main entrance. The glass was shattered, and countless zombies trailed in and out of it. Ludwig was right; the bottom floor was overrun.

As you both scrambled down the outside flight of stairs, the zombies had yet to look up and catch sight of you. Ludwig had pointed out that the car was on the opposite side of the building’s main entry, which was good. The real problem would be getting to the ground without the zombies detecting your human scent.

Looking up, you noticed the sky was clouded and gray. A good chance of rain. The city was dead; no longer a hospitable environment for survivors. Both you and Ludwig immediately understood that you had to leave. Where to? Neither of you had any idea.

By the time you both made it the final flight of stairs, the clouds had darkened and raindrops began to fall. Perhaps it was a good thing; could the zombies pick up on your scent with the rain?

“This way,” Ludwig ran towards the side of the building. There, along the street, was an old Volkswagen. Fumbling around the backpack’s pockets, he pulled out a silver key.

Unlocking the car released a loud beeping sound. Both you and Ludwig cursed the vehicle as it instantly caught the attention of the zombie horde.

Groaning with hunger, the group of killers advanced towards your side of the street. There must have been as much—if not more—as the herd from last night.

Throwing the doors open, you both nearly jumped in as the zombies came close and pressed their bodies against the sides of the car, hissing and screeching.

As they scratched and pounded against the windows, Ludwig wasted no time putting the key into the ignition. “Where are we going?” You asked.

He slammed on the gas as soon as the engine started up, “Anywhere but here,” He grumbled.

Jolting forward, he ran over several zombies in the process, thus splattering dark blood across the windshield. Unfazed, he simply turned on the wipers.

As he sped down the street, your breath hitched as you noticed the radio. Without skipping a beat, you turned it on.

“Tune it to 105.9. A.M.,” He instructed.

You did as you were told, passing countless static-filled stations as you did so. Finally, you managed to find 105.9.

Holding your breath, you listened to the robotic voice in between bouts of static:

“…We have…. confirmed… a designated… if any… are still alive… please come to… we repeat… survivors… California… San Francisco… a safe haven… walled-in protection… AT&T Stadium… inside Giants arena…-”

Ludwig powered off the radio.

Heart pounding, you looked over to him. “The San Francisco Giants arena in California…” A government-organized safe haven. More people. Food, water, shelter.

After a minute or two of silence, Ludwig sighed and responded, “…I never thought a baseball stadium would save my life…”

You let out a breath of relief. But… there was still one problem. “Um… so how are we gonna get all the way to California?”

He kept his eyes on the road. The gas meter was near the E for Empty. “I suppose we’ll have to find a way. I haven’t been on the road for months. That glass building was all I had.”

You looked down solemnly. Ludwig continued to race at full speed down the empty streets, swerving away from a few upturned cars in the process. You were too worried for the near future than to fret over his aggressive driving at the moment. “California is many states away… How could we make it there? It could take weeks…”

Ludwig didn’t say much. The silence was filled by raindrops against the windshield. By now, it was coming down hard.

He drove in the direction towards The Golden State.

Some time passed. It could have been minutes or hours, you didn’t know.

He had made it to a highway before the car gave out.

Instead of worrying about the gasoline problem, your mind was stuck on the Allies. Well… were they ‘the Allies’ anymore? Did they still call themselves that even after you and Francis were gone?

More importantly… did they still consider you an Ally? A part of their group, even with your absence?

If they did, then you quickly realized how wrong that would be. You had abandoned them before, and with your leaving of the state, now you would truly be abandoning them with no return. Ever. Were they still in that town where you left them? Did they know there was still a safe haven over on the West Coast?

You didn’t even notice when the car stopped. Your mind was too clouded with guilt over your lost friends.

Unknowingly, you had shed a tear. Ludwig glanced at you from the driver’s seat, perplexed. He still didn’t know your whole story. Would you ever be able to tell him?

The way he carefully patted your shoulder in sympathy—without even asking a question—made you realize you could. He had told you his story; you had to tell him yours.

“Ludwig…” You looked up, turning in the passenger seat to face him.

He eyed you with concern. “Why… are you crying?”

You began to tell him; he was nearly speechless. Halfway through, you broke down into hysterical tears.

Unsure of how to comfort a girl—and absolutely hating himself for it—Ludwig did what he felt seemed right. He didn’t have a rulebook on Consoling Teenage Females, but at the moment he just wanted to hold you in his arms and never let go.

As you cried against his shoulder, he reached forward and unbuckled your seatbelt. Gripping your waist and pulling you up as though you only weighed a pound, he slowly placed you in his lap. “L-Ludwig…” Ignoring your confusion, he laid you to his chest, rubbing soothing circles down your back.

“Just… let it out.” He whispered.

And you did. Pressing your face into his neck, you let out the final tears as you felt his chilled skin against your cheek. You heard nothing but his breath, his heartbeat, and the pouring rain.

You were straddling him. Your arms were around his shoulders. You couldn’t see his expression, but you just knew he was red with embarrassment.

Even if it gave him discomfort, he still wanted to make you feel better. You quickly realized that was enough for you and then some.

Sitting in his lap on the driver’s seat of the small car somehow made you feel safe, secure, and cared for. What more could you ask of him? He was… quite perfect. He let you hug him as tight as you wanted.

His face was pressed to your hair as you whispered a few minutes later, “I don’t even know if Alfred, Yao, Ivan, or Arthur are still alive. Where are they? Did they die looking for me…?” By now you had stopped crying, but the tears still lingered on your face.

He let out a sigh, and carefully wrapped his arms around your waist. “Don’t worry. Maybe they’re at the haven,”

Although his embrace was comforting, you still felt troubled. “But…”

He squeezed you tighter. Your form was so small against his. “But I’ll stay with you to find them—no matter what. And Miss _____...” His voice lowered, shy. “I-I won’t let anything hurt you. We shall make it through Armageddon; I promise.”

His words made your heart pound. He would stay with you to find them? He would protect you even if he’d told you he wanted to be alone?

“I’ll help you find your friends, _____. Please… j-just don’t cry anymore…”

You looked up. Ludwig stared into your eyes, a somber expression on his still-reddened face. He tried to smile for you, although the ends of his eyebrows were still lowered in sympathy. “I shall stay by your side. We will find them someday, _____.”

Hands still on his shoulders, you sniffed. “…Promise?”

He nodded.

Maybe there really was some hope left in this world.