The Final Bell (Zombie Apocalypse AU) (NCT127 x Reader)

Baby Doll

Chapter warnings: none

Word count: 1840

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Y/N stared out the window, unsettled by what she saw. Everything was dry and windy, and the air was heavy. While she knew pollution must be down, everything had that solid tension about it. Taeyong and Taeil were making small talk, but she wasn't particularly listening. Every now and then, they'd pass an abandoned vehicle or a pile of trash, but aside from that she noticed no signs of life. While she was lost in thought, she was brought to attention by a voice.

"...Y/N!" She sat up quickly, looking around. Taeyong was staring at her intently.

"Sorry, I was... thinking."

"It's fine- I was just trying to let you know that we're here." He said, pointing towards the windshield. Sure enough, there was a small campsite in front of them as they slowed to a stop. There were two tents, a few boxes, a small grill, and a black Toyota Tundra. She was nervous to meet this character, but didn't want to show it in front of her two associates. Stepping out of the van, they walked into the center of the space.

"Hold on." Taeil said to her, moving to the tent on the right. Stomping in the dirt next to the structure, he said, "Johnny! We're here." After a bit of rustling, the front unzipped, and a man stepped out.

He was certainly taller than anyone she had met so far- six feet if she had to guess. He had defined features and faded red hair, although- like Taeil- it was evidently not his real hair color. He was definitely thin, but stronger than Taeyong and Taeil. He wore a pair of old jeans, a green shirt, and a leather vest, with combat boots to match. Out of all of this, though, one thing in particular caught her off guard.

His left arm- or rather, where his left arm should have been- there was a purple, twitching appendage, sewed on with black surgical stitches. While it's nails were clean and the flesh seemed to be staying on fairly well, it was unmistakable: a zombie arm.

She involuntarily stepped back, but before she could move away, he grabbed her wrists, holding her arms above her head and turning her in various directions.

"Hmm, interesting." He eyed her up and down, mentally measuring her. "I'm sure I can find something that fits you." Uncomfortable, she jerked her arms, ripping them away from his grip. He looked surprised for a moment, before his face settled into a questioning grin.

"What's the matter? Can't you talk?" She tried to say something in return, but only managed to open her mouth slightly. Staring at her for another moment, his expression shifted to understanding.

"Ah, I see. You think I'm turning." He waved his purple arm. "I assure you, sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about." Pointing to the stitching with his good hand, he said, "This isn't my real arm. I made her myself. The wound is closed underneath, so quit your shaking." Well if that wasn't the riskiest thing she'd ever seen, she didn't know what was.

"What happened to your real arm?" She managed to mutter. He laughed, reaching up to touch her face with his left hand. The skin was disgustingly cold, leaving a tingling feeling wherever it touched. She knew it was probably in her head, but she already felt infected as he felt her face.

"I cut it off." He whispered playfully. Backing up and spinning on his heel, he pretended as if he had not just been incredibly creepy. "Keeps you on your toes, you know? Reminds you how fleeting this all is. It does have a mind of its own, though." He admitted, evidenced by its twitching. She was more than uncomfortable at this point, staring at the seam between his human and undead bodies. So he had... cut off his own arm, and sewed on this zombie one, for fun? Or as he called it, a 'reminder'. This dude was unhinged.