It's All Over (Zombie AU)

The two no longer felt human, just a shell of where humanity and sanity used to be contained. The actions they had to take in order to stay alive were ones that had gotten his pursued criminals thrown into jail for life. But none of that mattered anymore; the world’s laws no longer applied to anything. And whatever was important now, was balanced on the scale between survival… and death.

*~*~*~*
“You pathetic piece of trash; you’re a waste of space!” The pistol’s barrel was placed on the forehead of a young man. “Where are they!? Tell me the truth this time, or I might shoot a bullet through this worthless head you have on your shoulders!”

“Al, don’t –Achoo!- kill him!” An ill Florence Sich tugged at the bottom of Potty Prof’s lab coat as she sat, weakly slouched against the wall.

“Listen to your girlfriend, man! I’m just here to look for some scraps; I haven’t eaten in two days! I don’t know where they are!” The young man was tightly held by the collar of his shirt against the wall as he struggled to be free from Potty Prof’s grasp.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Potty Prof pushed him up against the wall harder, almost choking the kid. “Judging by the contents of your bag, it seems that you’ve already found what you’re looking for.” He looked over to the sprawled out backpack items looted from the vending machines and a thought came to mind. “Why are you still here? You’re here for something else too, aren’t you? It’s not just the food you’re after; it’s the drugs. A low life like you, even at a time like this, is still looking for your next chance to get high.” Potty Prof withdrew the pistol from the kid’s head and let him go; throwing the backpack at his feet. “Get out of here! I’ll find the damn IV bags myself.”

The kid took his things and left without a word, not even bothering to pick up the lost bags of food that Potty Prof had taken to examine. Alfendi slumped down against the wall and sat next Florence, a hand to his head as he fought off a migraine from Placid Prof taking control.

“You alright, Al?” The purple circles that usually loomed under Florence’s eyes were darker than usual; a coughing fit following after her words.

“I don’t know…” He let out a sigh. “With Potty Prof showing up more than usual to handle our current situation…” Alfendi looked over at the empty IV bag still connected to Florence’s arm. “And if this hospital doesn’t have any more IV bags… You’re going to-”

“Don’t say it Al, I know… But we just got –Achoo!- here. There should be some IV bags that have been placed in-”

Alfendi quickly placed a hand over Florence’s mouth, taking his other hand and placing a finger over his lips.

Down the deserted hospital hallway they heard it. The quiet shuffle of feet, the strong sent of rotting flesh as it came walking down the hall, and the obvious moaning that let Alfendi and Florence know that it was coming.

Alfendi quickly helped Florence off of the floor, bringing her over to hide behind the reception counter as he pulled the pistol back out of his pocket once they were there. “Whatever you do Florence, don’t sneeze.”

Stumbling out into the waiting room it came, the decaying body of a little zombie girl. Alfendi glanced over the top of the counter, pistol cocked and ready to fire if needed.

As he stared at the roaming girl, heart beating in his ears and hands shaking, Alfendi remembered something. He remembered when life wasn’t like this; when he was back in the solitude of Mystery Room working alongside his friends. Not fighting for his life and looking over his shoulder to avoid getting attacked by a zombie. It was only three weeks ago and he could still recall it very vividly… But he forced himself to keep the memory; for it was his last time seeing anyone but Florence alive.

*~*~*~*~*
“Mornin’ Prof, wot kind of case do we ‘ave ta work on today?” Lucy Baker came in through the door of Mystery Room a bit later than usual, Alfendi noticing a little limp in her walk but chose to ignore questioning it for now.

“We have an old trick on our hands; a simple locked room murder.” Alfendi got up from his desk chair to turn on the crime scene reconstruction machine, the office becoming a copied scene of the crime. “As of now the cause of death was suicide but I can’t help but think that there’s something missing…”

“I’m sure we’ll figure summat out.” Lucy went over to the dead body of a woman hanging by a noose from her ceiling fan and began to examine the scene. “’Ey Prof, how did the lass ‘ang ‘erself on the fan; there’s nothing around the body that could ‘ave got ‘er up there.”

“Right, the murderer could have hung Ms. Drape and moved the object they were using. But-”

“There’s a big dark spot on the floor under Ms. Drape ‘ere. It’s looks like ta floor is wet.”

“Then it’s likely that-”

An ear piercing scream came bellowing down the hallway that was immediately brought to the two’s attention; Lucy, and now Potty Prof, opening up Mystery Room’s door to see all the commotion going on outside. From what the two could see, everyone was just as curious as they looked out from the doors of their own. Turning down the halls of Scotland Yard was a hysterical Mike Meekins who came running.  

“Meekins!” He stopped to turn back to Potty Prof with tears streaming down his face. “What the hell are you doing!? What’s going on?”

“It’s terrible sir! They’re here… and… and they killed Sniffer. I-I found his body in the break room… There was blood everywhere… His organs were torn apart… I-”

Potty Prof slapped Meekins across the face. “Do you think this is funny!? You’re lucky I don’t cut out your tongue for such nonsense!” Potty Prof looked back over his should to glance at Lucy who was shocked and speechless. He knew that Meekins had no reason to lie, but neither of the Profs, nor Lucy wanted to believe it.

“But sir, I’m telling you the truth!”

“Who are they then!? Does Scotland Yard have cannibals now?”

“P-Potty Prof… Wot’s that?” Lucy’s voice shook, his gaze followed to where she was pointing down the hall. Around the corner a groaning, rotting body of a zombie started walking down the hall towards the three.

“Lucy, get back into Mystery Room right now.” Potty Prof quickly pulled a paralyzed Lucy back into the office as a terrified Meekins took off again, screaming. “I need you to stay with me, Baker.” Potty Prof began rummaging through papers in the bottom drawer of his desk to look for a long lost item.

“Wot’s goin’ on? Is wot Meekins said true?” Lucy stood by the window besides Alfendi’s desk, tears streaming down her face.

“I can honestly say that I don’t know, although the zombie outside is proof enough that everything is real.” He was quiet as he continued his search, dedicating the moment of silence to Sniffer. If he was dead, Potty Prof could only imagine how many other victims there were; how many more friends Lucy and him had lost.

There was a quick knocking at Mystery Room’s window before it shattered open, glass falling all over the floor as another zombie tried to get into Scotland Yard and grabbed Lucy’s arm. She closed her eyes and let out the loudest scream she could manage, a gunshot following right after. The grip on Lucy’s arm was still there, but instead of it being on that would tear her arms off, it was a much lighter grip. She opened her eyes and found that Potty Prof had one arm protectively wrapped around her, pulling her into his chest as his other arm was extended outwards with a gun in hand. He had shot a bullet straight through the zombie’s head.

“I still got it after four years.” Potty Prof darkly chuckled to himself as he waited for the zombie from the hall to come knocking down the door from hearing the shot.

“Now’s not ta time to be boastin’, Potty Prof! We ‘ave to go and ‘elp ta others!” She looked up at him, face still red from crying.

“I’m sure The Commissioner will be fine on his own despite his size… But…” He stopped for a moment to think. “Come on Lucy, we don’t have time to waste!” Potty Prof grabbed Lucy by the wrist and he opened the door to see that the oblivious zombie had walked by. Once the close was clear, the two took off in hopes of finding a certain member of the forensics team alive.

*~*~*~*~*
There was another gunshot that rang out through the halls as another zombie fell to the ground from Potty Prof’s shot. “’ow many more shots so ya ‘ave left?” The two ran down the hall to the forensic lab, Lucy dragging a bit behind due to her limping.

“Not enough if we don’t get out of here soon.” The two stopped outside the door, turning the knob to see that it had been locked. “Clever, let’s hope that the other idiots around here did the same.”

“Florence, open the door! It’s ta Prof and me!” There was the sound of squeaking wheels from inside the room, the faint click of a lock being undone as the door opened and the two were quickly let in.

“I’m glad that you guys are –Achoo!- alright. I don’t know how many of the others are-”

“You’re okay!” Lucy tightly hugged Florence, being weary of the IV attached to her arm. “I was so worried; we heard about…” Lucy expression became full of gloom again. “We heard about Sniffer; they got him.”

“But there’s no time to stand by and cry about it; we need to get out of here. Florence, are you able to take off your IV bag from its stand? We’ll be able to move faster if you didn’t have to roll it.”

“I can take it off.” She began to unhook it from her stand, getting a little help from Lucy. “This is my last bag though and it’s –Achoo!- half empty.”

“If ta zombies are all over London… Then ta ‘ospitals are goin’ to be flooded with people tryin’ to get treated for bein’ bit. ‘ow are we gonna get your medicine?”

“Those people are just being nothing but foolish… They’re presenting something to the medical field that they’ve never had to deal with before. There’s no way that anyone that has been bitten can be treated before they’re infected and or die.” Potty Prof was being more forwards and dark with his words than usual as he picked up Florence’s IV stand.

“What are you using my stand for, Al?”

He walked over to Lucy, handing it to her. “Use this Baker; you’ll be able to protect yourself now.” Potty Prof looked around the room in search of an item. “Do you have your car keys with you, Florence? Mine were left in Mystery Room…”

“I do, actually.” She reached into her lab coat pocket and handed them to Alfendi.

“Great! Now let’s get out of here!”

“Wait Potty Prof! Wot ‘bout Dustin; we still need to find ‘im.” Lucy didn’t move from her spot, arms crossed as she awaited an answer.

“Don’t worry Lucy; Dustin called out sick today.” Florence informed her. “I just hope he’s alright…” She got up from her chair as the trio prepared to leave, the door to the forensics lab flying open as another zombie marched in.

“I only have two bullets left!” Potty Prof took Florence’s rolling chair and kicked at the zombie, causing it to stumble over it and fall back into the hallway. “Run!” They took off out of the room, Lucy bashing the zombie over the head with the IV stand for good measure as she passed by.

As the group made it to Scotland Yard’s main lobby, they came upon a terrible sight. Around a body, that at the moment they couldn’t identify, there was a swarm of at least five zombies tearing away at the flesh and organs with blood spilling everywhere. The zombies were too absorbed into their meal to notice any other movement besides their own, Potty Prof letting Lucy and Florence get out the door first.

One look back at the bloody feast and a zombie shifted, allowing Alfendi to see who the poor soul was; it was Blaine Dartwright. He couldn’t help but let a very small smile form at his lips as he walked out the door into the parking lot.

“Potty Prof, we got a problem.”  Roaming the streets of London was multiple waves of zombies who walked along the streets in the traffic of people trying to escape from the city. “We should be fine once we get on ta ‘ighway… Right?”

“Only if we’re lucky… only.”

*~*~*~*~*
Lucy and her assumption had been right; the highway hadn’t gotten the chance to get cluttered with traffic. She had to wonder just how far this zombie horde had gotten, or how it even began. But her thoughts were interrupted by the pounding pain she still had in her right leg, placing a hand on it to try and rub the pain away.

It had been about an hour of driving, ideas and theories being exchanged between the three with wondering just how bad the situation was; or how impossible. And as Placid Prof kept driving, he noticed that there were fewer and fewer cars as they kept going down a route that should have been going through a small rush hour. It was the perfect time to face a big problem; he pulled over.

“Prof, why are ya pulling over?” He didn’t respond to her, but the look on his face was full of grief and regret. “Wot are ya doin’!?

“Lucy… Let me see your leg.”

“Wot!? Why do ya need to see my leg?” She scooted over in her seat to lean as far away as she could, although there was no escape with her being in the passenger seat.

“You’ve been limping on it ever since you walked into Mystery Room this morning and now you’re trying to comfort it by rubbing it to make the pain go away. You need to tell me the-”

“I’m fine! It’s nothin’ to be worried ‘bout; jus’ a lit’le leg pain. Let’s keep go- Prof! Wot are ya doing!?”

Placid Prof reached to pull up her pant leg and discovered the horrific truth behind her leg pain. “I wish you wouldn’t lie to me, Lucy!” He was staring at what would seem to be a gaping wound above her ankle. Judging by its size and amount of blood the bandage around her leg had absorbed, Alfendi figured just what kind of wound it was. “You were bit by one of them this morning… weren’t you?”

“…I couldn’t tell ya, Prof.” Lucy started to cry again. “I don’t want ta die! I don’t want ta become one of those flesh eatin’ zombies!” She latched onto Alfendi and cried into his chest while he tried to comfort her; Florence in the back seat sniffling at the situation, not because she was always sick.

“Lucy…”

“I want… I want ya to shoot me, Prof.”

“No, I will not shoot you… I can’t do it.” What Lucy was asking was insane, but Alfendi knew it had to be done. He knew that she wouldn’t have much time before she turned like the rest; he would have to be the one to put her out of her misery. Her death would be burdened on his shoulders.

“Then ‘ave Potty Prof shoot me if you won’t! I don’t care!”

It instantly made Alfendi snap, Potty Prof taking control. “You don’t think that I know I have to do this!? We don’t want to lose you either; my pathetic other side, Florence, and whoever is left after all this! Now you’re giving me the choice, placing the gun in my hands, to take your life… but now that I think about it, I really don’t have a choice in the end. I don’t want you to suffer.”

“Potty Prof…” Lucy looked up at his face to see an expression she had never seen on Potty Prof’s face; concern.

“Let’s go…” Potty Prof broke away from Lucy’s embrace and opened his door, reaching into his pocket to take the gun back out. Lucy followed him, opening her door and limping out of the car as every step on her leg hurt.

They walked off to the side of the road onto the grass and Lucy got down on her knees and looked back up at Alfendi. Florence watched from inside the car as the two stood on the side for a long time and talked, she noticed how many times that Alfendi’s hair had switched between crimson red and purple.

Then when the time came, it was Potty Prof who raised the barrel of the gun to Lucy’s forehead. Florence couldn’t bear to watch and she turned away from the sight; a gunshot echoed through the empty freeway.

*~*~*~*~*
Potty Prof didn’t shoot the little zombie girl as she passed by, there was no way to tell how many other zombies would be alerted if he fired at her. So once she was out of sight, he helped Florence back off the floor and plopped herself into an old, rolling chair that was still behind the counter with no broken wheels.

“I still miss her, Florence…” Potty Prof started to push Florence down one of the halls, being careful at the same time, in search of the IV bags.

“I miss her too, Al. But there’s nothing else that –Achoo!- could have been done. She wanted it that way… You did –Achoo!- the right thing in the end.”

“Maybe it was… It was a fools dream to hope that there would be some way to help her, but there was no way she would live. I put a bullet through her head; I shot her. It’s just like how it was four years ago, but this time I know the crime is mine.” Florence didn’t respond back, and Potty Prof kept rolling her down the hall as the sound of the moving wheels filled the air.