Wrong Genre

[directors_cut]

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.

Comments

[thepurpleone]

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.

[directors_cut]

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.

[target_audience]

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.

[thepurpleone]

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!!!!"

[directors_cut]

"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-"

[target_audience]

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.

[directors_cut]

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?"