Dead in Ohio, Kurt/Puck (Finn/Tina), NC-17
Title: Dead in Ohio
Authors: patchfire and raving_liberal
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, Finn/Tina; Rachel, Quinn, Burt, Hiram Berry, Glee ensemble, various OCs
Genre: Horror/Crossover (Zombieland)
Warning: Extensive, graphic minor and major character death; graphic violence; violent, consensual bloody sex; gratuitous descriptions of firearms, thieving, and looting; situations that may imply dub-con and/or vore depending on reader interpretation; underage drinking and smoking; characters being non-consensually drugged.
Spoilers: Through the beginning of s3
Disclaimer: Glee and all characters therein belong to RIB/Fox; Zombieland belongs to Columbia Pictures.
Author Notes: Zombieland 'verse crossover, but does not contain character crossover. Beta'd by knittycat99
Summary: Be an Asshole. Conserve your ammo. Follow the rules. If this is the way the world ends, they're going out with a bang, not a whimper.
Word Count: 93,566
Prologue: How They Died
Will doesn’t know what’s going on out there, but it certainly seems like they could use his help. They’ve already heard two accidents down on the street in front of their apartment complex, and no sirens yet. Emma’s got the television on and her cleaning bin out, polishing the silverware while she watches. He tells her he’ll be right back and kisses her; she starts to argue, but then her eyes turn back to the silver and she starts polishing again, muttering to herself.
He hasn’t been outside for long when he sees the crashed car and the woman slumped over the steering wheel, blood coming from her mouth and forehead. Will calls out to her, asks her if she needs help, and he’s sure he sees her twitch in response to his voice. He promises her he’s there to help her. He promises her that she’ll be okay. He opens the door of her car and as he leans across her to unfasten her seatbelt, she pulls him down into her lap, biting and biting and biting.
He was listed as a MVA, but they brought him in restrained and seizing. His skin is cold and clammy, he’s bleeding from several wounds, and he turns his head to snap-literally snap his teeth-at the nurse trying unsuccessfully to take his vitals. Two orderlies help hold him down and when the nurse finally gives up trying to get a blood pressure reading on the obviously-broken machine, one of the orderlies yelps and pulls back his hand, bleeding from a bite mark.
The riot starts about thirty minutes later, while Carole’s on her break, and she can barely hear Burt when she calls him on the phone. She runs to the nearest office, but before she can shut the door, Lucille rushes in with her. Carole slams the door and locks it, putting her arms around Lucille. The two of them sob, then Lucille goes quiet, shuddering in Carole’s arms. Before Carole can ask her what’s wrong, she feels Lucille’s teeth.
Will went out over two hours ago and hasn’t come back, and he won’t answer his phone. The television live news cut out, the radio stopped broadcasting, and when Emma tries Will’s phone one more time and it says ‘no signal’, she knows she’s truly alone. There’s a plague outside, infecting everyone in Ohio, and she’s alone.
She dons her rubber gloves, then takes a pair of sterilized scissors and starts cutting garbage bags down their sides, spreading them over the bed as she goes and taping them together. When the bedspread is thoroughly covered, Emma puts on her favorite yellow suit and the floral brooch she inherited from her grandmother. She changes the gloves out for a fresh pair, then takes every single pill in her bottle of Ambien before lying down on the plastic-covered bed.
She’s done all she can to keep things clean.
Burt runs through the hospital halls, gun in one hand, tire iron in the other. He’s never been a man who liked hurting people, but he’s increasingly sure these aren’t people-and even if they are, he’ll keep telling himself they’re not so he can keep hitting them with the tire iron and find his wife. As he runs, he screams for Carole, but there’s no way she could hear him, not over the noise.
The floor is slick with blood, bodies lie sprawled in corners and against doors, and the formerly white walls have red handprints across them. Burt can hear them behind him now, a group of those things, whatever they are, and he’s just rounding a corner when his foot hits a pool of blood and his legs go out from under him. His head hits the floor and then they’re on him.
Mike wakes up late, goes for a run, and then takes a nap, because he’s not quite ready to say the summer’s over, even though he’s technically four days into his senior year. The television alternates between CNBC and HLN, like it usually does when his dad has the remote-which is most of the time-but all Mike really picks up on is that there is some new infectious disease that the CDC may or may not be concerned about. He’s in the kitchen getting a snack when he hears his mom scream.
Mike looks out from the kitchen to see two people walking in through the front door. His first thought is that it’s a home invasion, but then he thinks that they look sort of homeless. He turns back to his sandwich and takes the last bite. Maybe if he offers them some food, they’ll leave? He’s standing in front of the cabinet when he feels the teeth on his neck.
Artie and his parents always wince at the sound of a collision. When there’s a solid boom followed in short succession by two more, there’s no question in Artie’s mother’s mind what should be done: she immediately directs Artie’s dad to bring one of the injured women into the house. The ambulances stopped responding hours ago, after all, and once the injured woman is lying on their couch, Artie locks the door.
His mom starts to scream just a minute later, and in his dad’s panic, Artie’s knocked from his wheelchair. If he had more time, if he had even a little bit of muscle control in his legs, maybe he could have climbed back into the chair. Instead, he doesn’t even feel his legs get slowly consumed.
It’s been a week, maybe a day more or less, since Mercedes and her parents decided they’d swing by the mall after lunch to finish the rest of Mercedes’ back to school shopping. They didn’t turn on the radio on the way and it wasn’t until the security guards started running around locking the doors that the Joneses even knew something was wrong. The power’s been off for days now, and they’ve run out of food, and the monsters outside are banging on the doors harder and harder.
The group of them huddles together in the middle of the mall, some fifteen or so shoppers plus the four guards and a few people from the shops. It’s dark and it smells like unwashed bodies, and all Mercedes really wants is a shower and a pop and a night in her own bed, but instead she clings to her mom and they pray. They hear a crash as the glass doors shatter and then the monsters flood in. Mercedes can’t see them, can’t find her mom’s hands, but everyone is screaming. They’re screaming, and Mercedes is screaming, and she feels hands and claws and teeth on her and the darkness closes in.
The loneliness is the worst thing. Lauren had plenty of food to make it through the winter-the idiots who decided to panic instead of stockpiling deserve what they got-and the little kerosene heater kept the storage unit from getting too cold. Sure, she had to keep the door cracked while she ran it, but once it was warm, she could turn off the heater, close and lock the door, and huddle in her coat in her sleeping bag. It wasn’t a party, but it beat dying. It beat being bitten and turned into a zombie, too.
Now that it’s starting to warm up, though, she’s ready for a change of scenery. She hasn’t seen a zombie for months, not since the first heavy snow fell, and maybe that means it’s all over. She straps on her gun and grabs the ax, and she’s off down the streets of Lima, looking for a likely store to hit to restock her supplies. The sunlight is warm on her face and the little splashes of color, crocuses peeking up through the melting snow, give Lauren a feeling of hope like she hasn’t had in months and she smiles. She’s still smiling when the zombies find her, and then there’s just not much left of her to smile.
Brittany hears her mother calling her. Santana says she doesn’t hear it, but Brittany knows she does. Brittany’s mother is so loud and Brittany has to find her. She waits until Santana is asleep and then she dresses quietly in the dark, putting on her Cheerios uniform so her mother will recognize her. She looks so different now, and her mother might be confused.
The snow piles up in drifts around the tent, and as Brittany wades out into it, it comes up to her knees. It’s cold above her stained and torn white sneakers, but her mother is calling her, so she keeps walking. The wind blows up the bottom of her skirt, just like in the poster of that actress that looks like fat, young Madonna, and Brittany laughs. She can hear her mother laughing, too, and then her father, and then Quinn. It’s been such a long, long time, but they found her. They finally found her.
Dead in Ohio prologue, chapters, and epilogue in full on AO3
Authors: patchfire and raving_liberal
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck/Kurt, Finn/Tina; Rachel, Quinn, Burt, Hiram Berry, Glee ensemble, various OCs
Genre: Horror/Crossover (Zombieland)
Warning: Extensive, graphic minor and major character death; graphic violence; violent, consensual bloody sex; gratuitous descriptions of firearms, thieving, and looting; situations that may imply dub-con and/or vore depending on reader interpretation; underage drinking and smoking; characters being non-consensually drugged.
Spoilers: Through the beginning of s3
Disclaimer: Glee and all characters therein belong to RIB/Fox; Zombieland belongs to Columbia Pictures.
Author Notes: Zombieland 'verse crossover, but does not contain character crossover. Beta'd by knittycat99
Summary: Be an Asshole. Conserve your ammo. Follow the rules. If this is the way the world ends, they're going out with a bang, not a whimper.
Word Count: 93,566
Prologue: How They Died
Will doesn’t know what’s going on out there, but it certainly seems like they could use his help. They’ve already heard two accidents down on the street in front of their apartment complex, and no sirens yet. Emma’s got the television on and her cleaning bin out, polishing the silverware while she watches. He tells her he’ll be right back and kisses her; she starts to argue, but then her eyes turn back to the silver and she starts polishing again, muttering to herself.
He hasn’t been outside for long when he sees the crashed car and the woman slumped over the steering wheel, blood coming from her mouth and forehead. Will calls out to her, asks her if she needs help, and he’s sure he sees her twitch in response to his voice. He promises her he’s there to help her. He promises her that she’ll be okay. He opens the door of her car and as he leans across her to unfasten her seatbelt, she pulls him down into her lap, biting and biting and biting.
He was listed as a MVA, but they brought him in restrained and seizing. His skin is cold and clammy, he’s bleeding from several wounds, and he turns his head to snap-literally snap his teeth-at the nurse trying unsuccessfully to take his vitals. Two orderlies help hold him down and when the nurse finally gives up trying to get a blood pressure reading on the obviously-broken machine, one of the orderlies yelps and pulls back his hand, bleeding from a bite mark.
The riot starts about thirty minutes later, while Carole’s on her break, and she can barely hear Burt when she calls him on the phone. She runs to the nearest office, but before she can shut the door, Lucille rushes in with her. Carole slams the door and locks it, putting her arms around Lucille. The two of them sob, then Lucille goes quiet, shuddering in Carole’s arms. Before Carole can ask her what’s wrong, she feels Lucille’s teeth.
Will went out over two hours ago and hasn’t come back, and he won’t answer his phone. The television live news cut out, the radio stopped broadcasting, and when Emma tries Will’s phone one more time and it says ‘no signal’, she knows she’s truly alone. There’s a plague outside, infecting everyone in Ohio, and she’s alone.
She dons her rubber gloves, then takes a pair of sterilized scissors and starts cutting garbage bags down their sides, spreading them over the bed as she goes and taping them together. When the bedspread is thoroughly covered, Emma puts on her favorite yellow suit and the floral brooch she inherited from her grandmother. She changes the gloves out for a fresh pair, then takes every single pill in her bottle of Ambien before lying down on the plastic-covered bed.
She’s done all she can to keep things clean.
Burt runs through the hospital halls, gun in one hand, tire iron in the other. He’s never been a man who liked hurting people, but he’s increasingly sure these aren’t people-and even if they are, he’ll keep telling himself they’re not so he can keep hitting them with the tire iron and find his wife. As he runs, he screams for Carole, but there’s no way she could hear him, not over the noise.
The floor is slick with blood, bodies lie sprawled in corners and against doors, and the formerly white walls have red handprints across them. Burt can hear them behind him now, a group of those things, whatever they are, and he’s just rounding a corner when his foot hits a pool of blood and his legs go out from under him. His head hits the floor and then they’re on him.
Mike wakes up late, goes for a run, and then takes a nap, because he’s not quite ready to say the summer’s over, even though he’s technically four days into his senior year. The television alternates between CNBC and HLN, like it usually does when his dad has the remote-which is most of the time-but all Mike really picks up on is that there is some new infectious disease that the CDC may or may not be concerned about. He’s in the kitchen getting a snack when he hears his mom scream.
Mike looks out from the kitchen to see two people walking in through the front door. His first thought is that it’s a home invasion, but then he thinks that they look sort of homeless. He turns back to his sandwich and takes the last bite. Maybe if he offers them some food, they’ll leave? He’s standing in front of the cabinet when he feels the teeth on his neck.
Artie and his parents always wince at the sound of a collision. When there’s a solid boom followed in short succession by two more, there’s no question in Artie’s mother’s mind what should be done: she immediately directs Artie’s dad to bring one of the injured women into the house. The ambulances stopped responding hours ago, after all, and once the injured woman is lying on their couch, Artie locks the door.
His mom starts to scream just a minute later, and in his dad’s panic, Artie’s knocked from his wheelchair. If he had more time, if he had even a little bit of muscle control in his legs, maybe he could have climbed back into the chair. Instead, he doesn’t even feel his legs get slowly consumed.
It’s been a week, maybe a day more or less, since Mercedes and her parents decided they’d swing by the mall after lunch to finish the rest of Mercedes’ back to school shopping. They didn’t turn on the radio on the way and it wasn’t until the security guards started running around locking the doors that the Joneses even knew something was wrong. The power’s been off for days now, and they’ve run out of food, and the monsters outside are banging on the doors harder and harder.
The group of them huddles together in the middle of the mall, some fifteen or so shoppers plus the four guards and a few people from the shops. It’s dark and it smells like unwashed bodies, and all Mercedes really wants is a shower and a pop and a night in her own bed, but instead she clings to her mom and they pray. They hear a crash as the glass doors shatter and then the monsters flood in. Mercedes can’t see them, can’t find her mom’s hands, but everyone is screaming. They’re screaming, and Mercedes is screaming, and she feels hands and claws and teeth on her and the darkness closes in.
The loneliness is the worst thing. Lauren had plenty of food to make it through the winter-the idiots who decided to panic instead of stockpiling deserve what they got-and the little kerosene heater kept the storage unit from getting too cold. Sure, she had to keep the door cracked while she ran it, but once it was warm, she could turn off the heater, close and lock the door, and huddle in her coat in her sleeping bag. It wasn’t a party, but it beat dying. It beat being bitten and turned into a zombie, too.
Now that it’s starting to warm up, though, she’s ready for a change of scenery. She hasn’t seen a zombie for months, not since the first heavy snow fell, and maybe that means it’s all over. She straps on her gun and grabs the ax, and she’s off down the streets of Lima, looking for a likely store to hit to restock her supplies. The sunlight is warm on her face and the little splashes of color, crocuses peeking up through the melting snow, give Lauren a feeling of hope like she hasn’t had in months and she smiles. She’s still smiling when the zombies find her, and then there’s just not much left of her to smile.
Brittany hears her mother calling her. Santana says she doesn’t hear it, but Brittany knows she does. Brittany’s mother is so loud and Brittany has to find her. She waits until Santana is asleep and then she dresses quietly in the dark, putting on her Cheerios uniform so her mother will recognize her. She looks so different now, and her mother might be confused.
The snow piles up in drifts around the tent, and as Brittany wades out into it, it comes up to her knees. It’s cold above her stained and torn white sneakers, but her mother is calling her, so she keeps walking. The wind blows up the bottom of her skirt, just like in the poster of that actress that looks like fat, young Madonna, and Brittany laughs. She can hear her mother laughing, too, and then her father, and then Quinn. It’s been such a long, long time, but they found her. They finally found her.
Dead in Ohio prologue, chapters, and epilogue in full on AO3