revivalproject | Wrong Genre

Entry tags:

Wrong Genre

Who: Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Donnie eventually
What: Fighting Zombies
Where: Temba, Alien Target
When: Zombie Event
Warnings: Blood, graphic violence, amputation

This really was pretty close to a dream come true. Hoards of violent faces they were all but encouraged to smash in. It wasn't exactly the same without that fear in their eyes. No mind games, no chase (at least not them doing the chasing), but beggars can be choosers, and for some reason they're allowed to lay into these things as much as they want without weapons disappearing, or fucking boxes raining down on them.

The boys had geared up, setting out day after day to be good, brave citizens and take care of the threat. It was the most fun they had in ages. They'd holed up in the big department store, eager to reenact the Dawn of Dead, and so far it had been all smooth sailing. Bloody and violent smooth sailing.

Billy nudged Stu in the ribs with his elbow, pointing out a familiar face in the shambling mob.

"Isn't that one Randy? You want dibs?" he teased, knowing Stu had a soft spot for the idiot.

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It had taken them some time to realize that some of these zombies might actually be recognizable. There were so many of them, relentlessly, that they all kind of blended together. The movies were always right, man, one big faceless mass, that was the real threat. Even when some of them were green or pink, they were all kind of the same, arms up and smelling like rot. Stu could hardly smell it anymore, though it had made him gag at first; it was only the swarms of flies drawn by the stench that reminded him that he had gone nose-blind.

That Billy could even pick out a face anymore was impressive. He was always so smart, so observant. Very little got by him, like the fact that Stu kind of liked Randy, and maybe Randy was a bigger idiot than Stu should have realized. Stu's frown was brief, his arms dangling limp at his sides, as he spotted the contorted face that Billy was pointing him to, then he rallied as he met Billy's eye again with a committed grin. Of course he'd cut his friend's head off, if Billy wanted him to.

"Hey!" he called, "Stupid!" Of course, they all turned at looked at him. Stu had to raise his axe, pointing through the crowd into Randy's unseeing eyes. "I meant you, stupid. Let's take you somewhere more fun." Getting one of them isolated hadn't worked out very well so far, when it was so much easier to have a party. Stu could go with the flow.

It wasn't a surprise when Stu agreed. Billy could get Stu to do almost anything, but there was still a sense of pride every time he committed himself to Billy. He liked that reassurance that he was well and truly his.

A grin on his face, Billy tapped the wooden end of his bloody rake against the floor to egg the things on as he backed away, pushing over a rack of clothes that caught up a few of them as they tripped. "One-stop shopping: everything you need, right at your fingertips," Billy quoted with a laugh.

The zombies that were too focused on Stu to be lured by the commotion Billy was making lurched their way after his giggles, and he stood his ground, waiting for one to get close enough to jab the top of the axe into its chest. It immediately grabbed at the handle, mouth stretching open like the stupid thing thought the wood was food, and Stu let out a gleeful whoop of discovery at the unexpected response. There were already others swarming up around this zombie, though, so Stu couldn't wait around to find out how far into the eating wood plot it would get, yanking the axe to the side to try to ward off the next nearest monster, and feeling the wet tear that came with the action well before he properly understood it.

The first zombie was sent staggering, confused, and the arm that had just rotted out of its shoulder slipped easily free from its sleeve, swinging wildly into the zombies to the left, then the right of it. The dead hand clung tenaciously onto the axe, leaving a bloody stump of an arm to slap into zombies as Stu swung and stumbled back himself, finally recognizing, "Woah, sick. It's like, cannibalism." The eating people part might have been a better example of that.

There was a snort from Billy, and despite the danger neither one of them seemed to really fear for their lives. They were the protagonists, of course they were going to get out of this just fine.

Billy picked off the stragglers, slamming the tines of the rake into faces, all while keeping an eye on Stu.

"You got 'em?" he called, a loud crash elsewhere in the store interrupting him, and he frowned. "The fuck was that?"

At the same time, Stu was calling, "Was that you?" The sound hadn't been particularly close, but Billy might have planned a trap, he was smart like that. It was enough of a distraction to draw several of the zombies away, except for the nearest that Stu had to drive his axe into the skull of, then swing the sputtering body from side to side the clear back the others. It was Randy that he was trying to get to, who helpfully lurched forward into his cleared path, where Stu could grab him by the hair and yank his head back, guiding his snapping jaws up and away from any immediate, gnarly bites. It was with this hold, the axe in the other hand dripping black and with a stiff stump of an arm still clinging to it, that Stu dragged their dead friend toward Billy. "Got him!" he proudly announced, with a yank that made Randy gurgle.

So far as Donnie could figure, there was absolutely no reason why zombies would be interested in heading to the department store unless there happened to be a sale in the snack department. Signs pointed to the possibility that someone was there, and with that many zombies as were wandering within, probably in trouble.

He winced as the overturned shelf made far more noise than he'd anticipated, but it had still effectively pinned several bodies, meaning several less to worry about trying to make a meal of him. He danced away from the blindly grasping limbs, looking in the direction he'd heard voices. Grasping his tech-bō, he made his way down the aisles, pace quickening as he wound back with his weapon to swing at another lumbering zombie in his path, trying to ignore how easily its skull collapsed behind the blow as its body slowly toppled.

"Hey! You need a ha- oh great," he groaned as he saw who else was there.

Still frowning in the direction of the noise, Billy took a moment to give Stu his attention, starting to grin at the prize he'd captured when they were interrupted by a familiar face. The smile dropped into a more appropriately wary expression.

"Careful kid, you might get hurt in here," he warned, sharing a look with Stu.

That wasn't a face that Stu was excited to see. He eyed Donnie with hurt and annoyance, teeth clenched, and had to shove Randy's head down to keep him from flailing around and gnashing while Stu tried to think. When Billy caught his eye, he snorted, then couldn't help the giggle that had to follow, reassured that Billy could handle this kid's attitude.

"Real surprise that you'd even show your face, thought your mommy had you packed away in a crib somewhere," Stu noted. "Or did you sell her out, too, when she got her ass kicked?"

"Yeah, that'd be real convenient for you two, wouldn't it," Donnie replied flatly. He eyed the zombie they seemed to be getting really chummy with. Weirdoes.

"Hah, joke's on you, I don't have a mom!" he scoffed. A low groan sounded just behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder before he swung his staff back to push the zombie away, turning to finish off with a vicious overhead smack to drive its face into the floor.

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised you two seem to be enjoying yourselves."

Edited 2024-10-29 19:51 (UTC)

Stu had relayed the tale of Shaw's abrupt ass kicking behind closed doors that day, the two sharing a puzzled laugh over how the end results were very similar to their own attacks, and yet no one seemed to be that bothered. Maybe it was all down to the mask.

He arched a brow at that self own of a comeback, head tilting in surprise as the kid laid into the zombie like he's on the Dodgers or something. Huh. Impressive.

"You seem awfully good with that thing for someone so against violence."

Stu startled at the meaty swing, then snickered again at Billy's response, sharing another look with him with comically wide eyes. One of the still living in the room was definitely enjoying the violence. "Yeah, man, don't let us harsh your buzz, but we were just helping our friend out here. This is Randy. Say hi Randy!" Stu enthused, using his hold on the zombie's hair to give his head a shake and coax a guttering sound out of his throat. At this, Stu pouted, like he really thought the greeting would be more enthusiastic, then said, "You'll like him, when he's feeling better. He loves movies, spends all his time at the video store, would work there for free, probably. Or was that part not even true, just more stuff that chick told you to say? You really had me going, you know, I thought you'd be happy to watch some movies, chill out in this crazy situation we have found ourselves in, little dude."

"Who said I had anything against violence?!"

As though to prove a point, Donnie viciously smacked another zombie, the body falling headless while something flew off past the two with a distant, wet thud. He ignored the sound, giving Stu an odd look before shaking his own head.

"I thought maybe someone was in trouble in here for all the zombies they were attracting, but evidently I was mistaken."

Edited (my mental thesaurus kicks in at the weirdest times ) 2024-11-02 00:12 (UTC)

Both the zombie that he held and Stu tracked that hurtling glob of meat until it landed, where it fixed the zombie's attention while Stu turned back to Donnie with a frown of annoyance. He gave a sharp whistle, loud enough that he drew focus from the undead remaining in the whole store, but it was at Donnie's eye level that he waved his free hand, baseball bat wobbling where it hung from the hook of his thumb. "Hello? Are you stupid?" he asked, but didn't really need an answer. It was clear that Donnie wasn't listening to anything that he said, so it was Billy that he addressed as he continued, "Maybe he really doesn't know what I'm talking about. All of those other dudes just made it up. There never was any phone at all. They just knew this guy was too much of a self-absorbed dick to even notice they were using his name."

Even Donnie had to wince at the sound, concerned for what attention it would bring them. Any protests he'd been about to make catch in his throat at Stu's rhetorical (???) question. It took him a moment to even piece together what the guy was getting at, and even then he was only half guessing because he'd tuned out part-way through that awful interrogation.

"You two are the ones who stole my tablet! Which I'd like back, thank you very much! You are the ones who have been unnecessary problems hurting people because apparently being stuck on an alien planet being toyed by unknown forces for entertainment purposes hasn't sunk in, nor the efforts in trying to get out of it!" He pointed at them with his staff, eyes widening. "-but then maybe that's because you're just like them. Ha! Maybe you guys are actually the aliens! You're the only ones that have been obsessive about asking movies! ...well, one out of two, Stu here talks enough for both of you though."

"Oh, now suddenly someone knows what I'm talking about," Stu taunted, swinging his bat side to side, catching Randy's eye to watch it tick like a tennis match. "You're the one who said he made movie props, learned from kung fu movies, has the projector in this wasteland, I was trying to be your FRIEND!" Stu had started singsongy, listing each of the things that Donnie had shared with him and apparently didn't even remember telling him, let alone anything Stu might have shared in return. By the end, though, he snapped in a shout emphatic enough to making Randy sniff hungrily at the spit that misted the air. It didn't slow him down, voice still raised as he continued, "And don't try to tell me you have some kind of problem with the aliens now, you said you liked being watched by them. Make up your mind, dude, you're spinning out, aliens or no, violence or no, the plot holes are really hard to ignore."

"That wasn't a denial," Donnie said. "Know what? I thought maybe we were friends, acquaintances trying to work our way up to a point but friends don't use other friends' comms to try killing their friends!"

He heard the shuffling sounds and groans of the approaching, but for the moment he kept his glare on the two...three in front of him.

"Stop putting words in my mouth! I never said any of that and you know it! Either way, I don't care about your dumb-dumb movie analogies, you'd make a terrible director!!"

Billy had gone strangely quiet while the two caried on yelling, distracted briefly by attempting to beat off the newly attracted creatures.

Distantly he caught bits and pieces. Oh well that's just not fair. Stu's a wonderful director. Maybe not as good as Billy, but maybe they just have to show Donnie their work--

Blinking back into reality, Billy took in the bloody state of his arm, groping blindly for Stu.

"It got me, man. One of them fucking got me. You gotta cut it off-" he plead in a panic. That was the only way to stop him from turning into one of them.

"I'm the one putting words in your mouth? You're the one telling all of these people stories about me, and don't even have the balls to show up yourself when you get one of them knocked out! Who would want to be your friend?" Stu was still yelling over Billy, much more absorbed in Donnie's stupid dick face than he was the zombies or Billy pawing at his arm. At first, he shrugged the touch off, throwing out an elbow for Billy to back off, until he finally went quiet enough to turn his frustrated glare Billy's way. It was only then that he heard what Billy had been trying to say, and his tone changed abruptly, small and lost as he tried, "What?," with wide eyes like he could plead his way into an answer that he preferred to hear.

That'd sting more if Donnie felt he could believe anything Stu was saying anymore. ...okay, maybe it still hurt just a bit, because the boy still tended to thrive on the feedback of others, and none of this was positive in any way. Yes, he screwed up, he abandoned ship when he saw it sinking but he had only told one person outside of Leo as to what had happened and what followed was beyond his control for how it had mutated.

But he knew Stu was wrong, because he did have friends, and more importantly, he still had his brother. Somewhere.

The turtle drew himself up, but he did look to Billy when the other started to reenter into the conversation, expecting him to jump in on Stu's behalf. His eyes widen as he quickly realized otherwise.

Ohhh that was a lot of blood. Oh this was not a time to be having a dumb-dumb argument with would-be murderers when they were all potentially going to be killed here!

He jumped between them and another lumbering zombie, bashing its head in before kicking it back, turning his tech-bō to thrust its pointier end towards another shambling, groaning body to shove it into another.

"Tourniquet! Find something to tie off his arm, cut off the circulation, slow its spread." Panicking would not help them here, but oh, it was so easy to do but they didn't all need to be panicking or they'd all die here. So Donnie took refuge in cold, solid facts.

"Can't cut it off here, it'll just attract more attention, risk of reinfection high- Stu! Get him out of here!" he shouted over his shoulder, bracing against the loose-limbed swipes of another zombie.

Edited 2024-11-05 18:18 (UTC)

Billy caught at Stu's sweater, like he could shake him into action, but seeing his own fear reflected in those wide eye was terrifying. The danger hadn't registered properly until now. It never did. Fear and anger were the emotions that came easy, a fact that he was bitter about when reflecting on his inability to feel.

"Don't let me turn. Don't let me turn into one of them, Stu-" He tried to apply pressure above the wound, trying to remember how to tie a tourniquet.

Everyone was giving Stu orders now, so he moved, doing as he was told, clumsily as he kept staring at Billy in disbelief with eyes that were already full of tears. "What'd you do that for, man?" he heard himself ask, a few times, while he shoved Randy away, sending the zombie stumbling over its own feet toward Donnie and barely hearing the noise it made at it landed on its own face. He had dropped the bat, too, freeing his hands, not sure what else he was supposed to do about tying Billy's arm but squeeze, that must have been the same thing, as he blindly directed Billy back and away from Donnie and the zombies that lurched after the kid, getting him out. Out where? They'd figure that out around the next corner.

Donnie focused on keeping the approaching zombies away, which wasn't fun considering that more had already been headed towards them with Stu's earlier whistle. The scent of blood was an even bigger draw.

Why was he trying so hard for these clowns? The thought was fleeting, startling him. He swung harder than probably necessary, crumpling a zombie's rib cage in as he leaped back, spinning his staff on a defensive arc.

Sure, he might enjoy violence and at times had the urge to wring his siblings' necks. Sure, maybe these guys might even deserve getting eaten! But deep in the back of his mind, Donnie knew it would bother him knowing he'd left these idiots to their doom. He just hoped they actually made good use of the time he was buying them.

As Stu and Billy made their retreat, they'd hear Donnie's taunting as he tried to keep as many of the zombies' attention away from them as possible.

"Sorry deadbeats, the only thing you'll be eating is military-grade titanium!!!!"

"I didn't fucking do it on purpose-!" They were the heroes. The heroes weren't supposed to die! But maybe this was the tragic surprise death, the one that came right before Stu would escape.

His panicked mind let Stu herd him away, fingers scrambling to try and get his friend's belt off, vaguely remembering seeing something like that used before in a movie. If Stu tried to help or hinder his hands were swatted away, tugging the belt free with a grunt before pushing it into Stu's hands. "Use this-"

Any noise Donnie was making then was static along with the groaning of the zombies, dead air in Stu's ear as he kept his unblinking focus on Billy and nodded obediently, letting Billy take the belt then holding it blankly. It took him a second before he finally figured out what they had both been trying to tell him, then he was moving quickly to yank the belt punishingly tight around Billy's bleeding arm. "It's fine, see? No problemo. We'll get a bandaid. We'll get murder doctor," he said cheerfully through tears.

Billy hissed in pain at the crushing tightness, but nodded with a groan. "Just like that-" he panted. "You gotta do it, Stu. You gotta chop it off or I'm gonna turn into one of those things." He shook Stu, trying to force him into action. They didn't have time for tears. "You owe me one, remember?"

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