What's it like to be a ghost? - Zombie apocalypse AU [OPEN]

[Meduzia]

<sub>Standing alone in the soot and stone
He draws from his holster, a man
Crawling alone through the soot and stone
He makes his way home, half to death

In time, in vain
I wash my hands of yesterday
If I should fall, if I should pass
It's worth one last stand
Before the gates of hell

Black Veil Brides - The Gunsling</sub>

[[Sorry for any possible typos, typed on phone. This assumes human world, everybody is human. What I am basically hoping for is a little bit of zombie-related inspiration e v e ]]

The city was a mess. It used to be large, Ramiel could see, but large cities suffered most. He was alone in big city, with gun, enough ammo to kill maybe two dozens if he's precise enough and with no companions. He wished he didn't lose Simon and Faith. He wished he knew where they were. He was almost certain that they were alive, but it wasn't like he had the opportunity to check.

He recognized the city too, although only vaguely, but he was pretty sure he could place it on map. Germany? It had to be. He grew up around here, or close enough. He didn't feel nostalgic, he wasn't one of those people.

Speaking of people, he needed to find some. Ramiel Bauman might have been many things, but he wasn't stupid, at least not stupid enough for it to cost him his life. In apocalypse, large group survived, and he was alone. He needed those two dunderheads with him, otherwise he would not survive. He would not stay sane, more importantly. He hoped they were fine.

For now, all he could do was avoid zombies (stench in the air was disgusting at first, but then he got so used to it that he barely felt it) and try to find some relatives or friends. Humans were worse than zombies, at times, and he found that he couldnt trust just anybody.

He wished he could see somebody from his old work place, that international school, but he wasnt too sure in odds. He survived for one and only reason that his father took him shooting when he was little. He found it better than wrestling, especially in this situation.

Discovering what at first appeared to be empty condo, he stopped the engine and stepped out of car cautiously. No sound came from it, except what he thought would be door creaking. However it was so repetitive and the only cause that came to Ramiel's mind was wind in the building somewhere. First and foremost, he has to get out of clear sight. Secondly, he needed to get some food. Most of it was contaminated anyway. Through same shaky sources, he knew most people die from bowel infections than bites of let's called them zombies. He needed to be careful there too. With a sigh, he stared at the building, but he still didn't move.

[Rach_E_L]

(Amg, I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted >< I didn't see the top until I was halfway through writing- plus, I sort of left it so if you wanted zombies, then Dizzy could pop along ><)

The world had fallen apart when her sister had been found as a zombie.

Tam had screamed and cried as Dizzy had devoured the rest of the family. It was bad luck that Manes and his mother had come around a few hours before, trying to get to know the family more after finding Sky after so many years. All three of them were gone in less than an hour. The girl had tried to make her sister see sense, but she had almost been bitten or eaten herself.

In the end, she had shot Dizzy's arm off with a rifle. She had cowardly fled as her sister screamed.

Now she was on the run from that same sister, who had followed her from Spain to- How far had she gone? Germany? Somewhere around there, anyway. She had hopped from car to motorbike to regular bike and back to car again so many times that she had lost count of how many she'd 'borrowed' and how many miles she'd travelled. Her only goal was to escape her murderous sibling.

She was hiding in a fancy condo; as if the owner would be using it when they were dead. The redhead had set up a small camp in the living room, boarding up the windows but keeping the door open for a quick escape if one was needed. She had picked up bullets on her way, and now she had a large pouch of loose ones around her petite waist. She wasn't even sure how she had survived this long. She had never fought a day in her life, and here she was, shooting her sister and hitting any other zombies she had seen with her father's katana sword (which she kept on a sheath, also on her waist) across the throat. A clean cut would behead them - but she wasn't sure whether it just slowed them down or full on stopped them.

A fresh supply of food sat in a backpack next to her. Tam had picked up any food that didn't seem contaminated on her travels and put them in a stolen brown bag that she usually had slung across her shoulders. Now she was curled up, ready to get a few hours of sleep and run once more.

The engine seemed frightening and daunting when she first heard it approaching. The teenager froze, instantly panicking that the zombies had learnt how to drive a car. But the feet just seemed to stop, so she relaxed a little. Getting up out of her hiding place from behind a chair and a sofa pushed against the wall, she went to the door. Her rifle was in her small hands firmly, in a position to raise and shoot at a moment's notice. She cleverly hid behind the frame, only the smallest bit of light falling on her face and reflecting off her dull brown eyes.

Those eyes darted back and forth around the car, finding the owner of it. It was a man; he didn't look like one of those things. Cautiously, Tam opened the half unhinged door and called out to him.

"Hey, you."

[Meduzia]

It's perfect <3 ]]

Goddamn it. He knew it. The creaking continued, somewhere in distance. His heart sped up for a moment but then slowed down again as he was not shot immediately.

"I mean no harm." - with a gun in his hand, he outstretched his arms - "I would just not be comfortable enough if I let this go. I'm sure you understand." - and if not, Ramiel could die because of it. Then so be it. His weapon is his only mean of protecting himself. Letting it go would probably mean dying, and Ramiel already saw that humans could be worse than zombies, indeed.

"Zombies can't talk, darling." - as if to prove it, he talked - "Are you alone?"

It was just something basic. Large group survives better but at the same time, attracts more attention. He wasn't sure what he wanted, other than to survive and find means to contact everybody he knows just to check and make sure that they are alive. And he wanted them to be alive, badly. Wasn't that what everybody wanted, though? Surviving based just on that was not enough. Sure, you will meet new people but the void stays. One person cannot be just replaced like they never existed before.

He itched to move, to hide behind the car door or something, to somehow protect himself, but Ramiel treated people like he treated beasts nowadays - no sudden movements, keep and collected and don't get shot. Normally it worked.

"I'm Ramiel Bauman." - he vaguely thought of this woman he met before, the one that told him her name was Amon - "That's my real name too. I've got no reason to lie." - because it's not as tough she can check, but he hoped it would mean something. Amon's named slipped eventually - she did admit it was not her real name in the beginning, but she also admitted she did not mean to mention herself as Teter Sevan. She felt safer, she said, if some people couldn't get her. In apocalypse, everything was blamed on zombies, every death, every loss, and Teter was desperate to survive. Ramiel hoped she would be alive too.

He wondered if that's how it's going to end with this girl too. Travel endlessly, for months, before you are overrun by zombies and you have to split up with a mere promise of maybe seeing each other again. He had to make his way to civilization again, goddamn it.

[Rach_E_L]

[Sorry it took so long ;-; School is a bitch- /weeps]

Tam studied the man cautiously. Her eyes looked like two copper pennies without their shine in the dim light, like all the life and will to survive had been sucked of them. True, she wanted to give up. She wanted to cushion the rifle under her chin and pull the trigger. She wanted to scream and shout and stamp until the creatures came and devoured her. She wanted this man to leave her to die, or finish the job himself.

But she couldn't. It hadn't been some random neighbour or a passer-by that had attacked her family. It had been her wonderful twin sister. The brave one, the smart one, the funny one, the kind one, the easy-going one, the older one, the better one. She had thoughtlessly ripped her family apart as Tam had been left standing there, unsure of what to do except weep for the blood spilled on the cosy living room. It had terrified her beyond anything that she'd ever even imagined, which made her more determined to keep going.

The teenager was going to help. In this apocalyptic world, the survivors needed people like her. At first, when she had made the decision to aid the world, she was unsure how. Then she noticed something glorious as she had camped out somewhere in France (well, it must have been France, since the signposts were in French) - she was surviving. Purely surviving on instinct alone. Her instinct was her most valued weapon, and it would help her to help others. The redhead could find people, lead them somewhere where they would be safe, search for a way to cure their 'zombie problem' (one way or another) and get the world working again. She was a leader, and that was what these few survivors needed.

Of course, before she could do that, she needed to find people. Well, she might as well try to recruit this man - if he'd follow a silly teenage girl like herself.

"I understand," Tam mumbled in reply, edging closer around the door, letting part of her tanned shoulder into the light. It had a small scrape covering it, where she had swerved in a car and got caught on a piece of broken glass from the window.

At his question, she gave a small snort. Would anyone have the same ideas as her, to get the human population into one space and command them? It was insanity - but hey, if the instincts said yes, then she was up for it. She kicked the door with her knee high Doc Martens (which the girl sort of stole - but there was no way to pay for them, and she had really needed some strong shoes; they just happened to be fashionable as well) and stepped into the open. She hadn't thought about her appearance since the apocalypse started, but knew that she must be a terrifying sight.

Her abnormally bright red hair was tied back in a firm ponytail with a green bandanna, which touched her shoulder blades. It had been longer before the zombies had turned her life upside down, and Tam was sure that the hair cut she had given herself was uneven. It was covered in dirt and blood like her face, which had a haunted look about it. Her cheek bones were sticking out from her decrease in eating, and were accented unnaturally by the blood smears up and down her face. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, a brown that should've been warm and comforting but now looked like wet mud. Her lips were chapped as she had taken up the habit of biting the skin off them when she was hungry, as a way of trying to make her food last as long as possible. Those lips were formed into a hard line as she stared at this 'Ramiel'. Her clothes were all black and tight-fitting, but easy to move in. Rips in them showed bruises and cuts as war badges on her skin, proof of the hard journey she had survived against the odds. A brown rifle was stuck in both of her slightly injured hands like if she let go, the world would die. Her stance told the world that she was on alert and would tolerate no non-sense.

"Of course I'm alone," she replied bitterly. "I haven't seen anyone living since my family was killed."

The redhead looked around cautiously, realising she should've scanned the area before she had stepped out. Those faithful instincts told her that they were alone, and they didn't dare lie to her.

"I'm Tam Night," she said with a quick blink, wondering why she was admitting details about herself so freely. Oh well, the world was dying anyway. "I'm from Spain. This is a little embarrassing, but" - she paused as her cheeks started to colour - "what country am I in? Do you have any idea?"

Sure, asking that question made her cringe more than the thought of asking a guy out on a date to a morgue, but as she pointed out to herself earlier - the world was dying anyway. The embarrassing became the thing you wanted to do before you died.