Septiplier One-Shots

The Apocalypse Isn't Fun

They continued moving in silence, hoping to find some place warm to stay at. They haven't seen any other survivors, which made them wonder if anyone else actually survived.

Finally, Mark spotted a small cabin. He looked at Jack who saw it as well, the two exchanging nods and running towards the cabin without saying a word. It may or not be a huge improvement, but either way, it would be better than suffering out in the cold like they were.

When they reached the cabin, they immediately tried opening the door instead of knocking. When the door swung open, the sight they saw was terrible. A man, surrounded by pools of blood and multiple bodies, was standing in the middle of the main room, placing the barrel of a shotgun under his chin.

"They're coming." he whispered with fear in his eyes. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by the loud BANG the shotgun made as the man pulled the trigger, ending his life.

"Holy shit..." Mark whispered, his eyes starting to water.

Jack was about to speak once again, but he was interrupted another time by the loud groans of an all-too-familiar walker. The two men spun around to see a group of ten, maybe even twenty, walkers heading their way. They did the first thing that came to mind and entered the room, slamming the door shut and locking it.

"We're going to die, we're going to die, we're going to-"

"Jack, calm down!"

"I can't calm down, Mark! We've only faced two of those bastards at a time! I'm freezing and we're out of Doritos and-"

"Jack, you need to calm down. We're going to be okay." Mark walked over to Jack and hugged him, squeezing him tightly and refusing to let go. Jack buried his face in the crook of Mark's neck, not bothering to hold back his tears. He didn't want to die. He didn't want Mark to die. But, he for sure he had a very small chance of surviving this day.

They both jumped when there was a sudden banging on the door. They cringed at the groans of the monsters that were so close to them. Jack screamed as one of the windows suddenly broke, glass flying everywhere. There was another groan, but this was too close to be coming from outside.

"We need to run," Mark whispered, his voice barely audible, "We have to get out of here!"

Mark grabbed Jack's hand to make sure they won't lose each other. Walkers started climbing inside through the broken window. Jack quickly grabbed the shotgun and handed it to Mark, the two still refusing to let go of each others' hands.

He used the shotgun to break the nearest window, which took a couple hits.

"Mark, hurry!" Jack yelled, the walkers closing in on them.

"I'm trying, Jack!"

"Mark-!" Mark finally smashed the window and they both climbed out, running for their lives. The man had used his last shell on himself, so the shotgun was useless. The only weapons they had were their fists and a butterfly knife that was laying in the bottom of their duffel bag, which would be too risky to try to grab.

They ran as far as they could until they could no longer see the walkers or hear their disgusting groans. They finally stopped and caught their breath. Mark looked around, wondering how they made it so far. But, that's when he saw.

"Jack," his voice cracked. He knew what this meant. He knew this was the end of the line. "your arm."

The Irishman looked down at his arm, his heartbreaking at the sight of all the blood that was pouring from the gash in his arm. He  remembers feeling a sharp pain back at the cabin, but he hoped it was nothing.

"It's over for me."

"No, Jack-"

"There's no possible way to save me."

"But- but we can find something, right?"

"We can't."

The virus kicked in right away. He would only survive one more day at the most, and Mark couldn't bear to see Jack in pain. He doesn't want to leave the man who made the apocalypse less of a hell than it is. But, they both knew what had to be done.

"Just leave me here."

"Jack, I'm not going to let you suffer."

"You still have that butterfly knife we found, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, use it on me, ye' bastard."

Mark stared at Jack, tears swelling in both of their eyes. He retrieved the knife from his bag, not wanting to do what had to be done.

"Is it a cliché movie thing for me to say 'I love you' right now?" Mark said, smirking.

"Well, is it a cliché movie thing for me to say 'I love you too'?" Jack replied, a small smile creeping up on his face.

"I suppose it is. It is a cliché movie thing if we kiss?"

"Yes, yes it is."

So, they kissed. It was a mystery to them as how they found love in such a depressing and torturous situation. It may be the zombie apocalypse, but in a way, the two were somewhat glad it happened. If there were no zombies, there would be no 'them'.

After pulling away, Mark wiped the tears from his eyes. He wasn't prepared for this, but he couldn't let Jack suffer.

"Close your eyes, Jack." Jack did as he was told as Mark reluctantly held the knife under Jack's chin, "Just close your eyes."