Linkin Park: Brad/Chester, #032, Sunset
Title: Rage
Fandom: Linkin Park
Characters: Chester/Brad
Prompt: #032 sunset
Word Count: 507
Rating: R
Summary: They're not zombies, but close enough.
Author's Notes: Based on the movie 28 Days Later
It’s dangerous to go outside in the daylight, but when the sun sets it is suicide. On the news they call it the Rage virus, an engineered strain of the Ebola Virus. It’s highly contagious, and once infected spreading the virus is all people become interested in. They’re not zombies, but close enough.
Chester doesn’t want to know anything else. He’s heard everything he needs to hear.
For decades humans have been killing themselves, the world around them. Spreading disease, Mary Mallon with typhoid, Gaeten Dugas with AIDS, melting the polar icecaps and blaming each other.
Now this.
There’s no cure, or none that they know of, and so far the only advice they’ve been given is “Stay in your homes, lock the doors and keep weapons handy.”
Reassuring. But even with a shotgun by your bed it’s hard to get to sleep.
Brad is standing at the window, staring out at the empty street. It’s hard to keep track of who is alive anymore, but Brad tries to as much as possible. He’s seen his brother get bitten, seen him bite his mom and then his dad. He’d have bitten Brad too, if he hadn’t gotten away quick enough.
“Fucking zombies,” he mutters under his breath as he stares out the window at the blood stained road. There’s no rain this time of year, so everything smells of death, rot and copper twenty-four-seven.
Chester wants to point out that, technically, nobody anywhere is a zombie. They’re just infected, but insulting them somehow makes Brad feel better so he bites his tongue.
He gets up from the couch, turning off the TV and stepping over to the window. He wraps his arms around Brad’s waist, kissing his neck, “We have to close the drapes,” he says, “the sun is setting. They’ll see the light.”
Brad nods sadly and steps away, letting Chester pull the drapes closed. “I don’t know how much longer I can live like this”, he says heading to the front door the check the locks.
Chester pays him no mind, has become used to Brad’s sadness over time. Simply takes his hand and tows him upstairs, and in the pitch black of the bedroom they make love.
In the morning he wakes up alone. He doesn’t open the drapes or turn on the lights, they always wait a while before they do that just in case, and heads downstairs. In the hallway he steps in something warm and thick, liquid seeping in between his bare toes.
Cautiously he flicks on the light. The sight makes him almost throw up. Brad is slumped against the wall, his head lolling against his chest, his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms in his lap. His wrists, they’re hacked open to show muscle and bone, blood still pumping out from the wounds.
He stood in blood. Blood so thick it looks black.
When he opens his mouth all that comes out is a scream.
And at the front door, long, overgrown nails begin clawing.
Fandom: Linkin Park
Characters: Chester/Brad
Prompt: #032 sunset
Word Count: 507
Rating: R
Summary: They're not zombies, but close enough.
Author's Notes: Based on the movie 28 Days Later
It’s dangerous to go outside in the daylight, but when the sun sets it is suicide. On the news they call it the Rage virus, an engineered strain of the Ebola Virus. It’s highly contagious, and once infected spreading the virus is all people become interested in. They’re not zombies, but close enough.
Chester doesn’t want to know anything else. He’s heard everything he needs to hear.
For decades humans have been killing themselves, the world around them. Spreading disease, Mary Mallon with typhoid, Gaeten Dugas with AIDS, melting the polar icecaps and blaming each other.
Now this.
There’s no cure, or none that they know of, and so far the only advice they’ve been given is “Stay in your homes, lock the doors and keep weapons handy.”
Reassuring. But even with a shotgun by your bed it’s hard to get to sleep.
Brad is standing at the window, staring out at the empty street. It’s hard to keep track of who is alive anymore, but Brad tries to as much as possible. He’s seen his brother get bitten, seen him bite his mom and then his dad. He’d have bitten Brad too, if he hadn’t gotten away quick enough.
“Fucking zombies,” he mutters under his breath as he stares out the window at the blood stained road. There’s no rain this time of year, so everything smells of death, rot and copper twenty-four-seven.
Chester wants to point out that, technically, nobody anywhere is a zombie. They’re just infected, but insulting them somehow makes Brad feel better so he bites his tongue.
He gets up from the couch, turning off the TV and stepping over to the window. He wraps his arms around Brad’s waist, kissing his neck, “We have to close the drapes,” he says, “the sun is setting. They’ll see the light.”
Brad nods sadly and steps away, letting Chester pull the drapes closed. “I don’t know how much longer I can live like this”, he says heading to the front door the check the locks.
Chester pays him no mind, has become used to Brad’s sadness over time. Simply takes his hand and tows him upstairs, and in the pitch black of the bedroom they make love.
In the morning he wakes up alone. He doesn’t open the drapes or turn on the lights, they always wait a while before they do that just in case, and heads downstairs. In the hallway he steps in something warm and thick, liquid seeping in between his bare toes.
Cautiously he flicks on the light. The sight makes him almost throw up. Brad is slumped against the wall, his head lolling against his chest, his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms in his lap. His wrists, they’re hacked open to show muscle and bone, blood still pumping out from the wounds.
He stood in blood. Blood so thick it looks black.
When he opens his mouth all that comes out is a scream.
And at the front door, long, overgrown nails begin clawing.