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ahloveisboo · 7 years

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Long Forgotten Sons | pt 2

Pairing: OT7 Genre: Zombie!AU, mature (includes violence, gore, death, explicit language, future major character death) Word count: 4.3k

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***

“Hobi?”

The voice on the other side of the line was hoarse and out of breath. “Hoseok, are you there?”

“I-I don’t understand.” The boy sounded even more exhausted than his friend. “Why is this happening? I came home and they- they’re gone, Jimin. My entire family’s gone.”

It had been a whole twenty-four hours since the attack on the school. Before word of the virus had reached the general public, a handful of walkers found their way onto the non-protected college grounds. They were a short two months away from the playoffs and home games had always been Jimin’s favourite. The atmosphere in the gymnasium was tense. Heavy with each cheer and howl coming from the bleachers. It made his skin tingle, stimulating his desire to win the match.

The scoreboard showed a lead of 9 points on the opposing team. The noise filled the gym to a deafening level as Hoseok passed the ball to Jimin, who caught it mid-air and dunked it into the net, further increasing their lead. His teammates ran to pat him on the back and ruffle his hair in appreciation, once more congratulating their star player for his hard work. He ran a hand through his sweaty, black hair and shot Hoseok a grin. Their team was the best in the league. Jimin, their star player, usually received the most praise, but he was well aware they wouldn’t have made it this far without impeccable teamwork.

More cheers filled the court, fueling the boys’ energy until a piercing scream cut through the air and halted all movement. Jimin froze as the gym went silent. A second scream caused the audience to stir, a soft murmur rising from the bleachers. As Hoseok shot their coach a questioning glance, another voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Jisoo!” A girl shrieked, eyes wild and panicked as she looked at her friend in horror. Jisoo had her hands up, staring at bloody palms as though not able to register the deep red stains. She mumbled something as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she slumped to the ground. The other girl flung herself from the bench, screaming for a medic. “I don’t understand,” she wailed, fanning Jisoo and grabbing her shoulders. “She screamed and said she felt something on her leg and-”

The words had barely left her mouth when the two boys next to her jumped up. Hands were groping at their ankles, trying to pull them back. One stomped his foot down hard, making whatever was attacking them yelp in pain. The sound caught people's attention, causing the elder man next to them to finally catch on. He crouched, eyes widening as he glanced under the bleachers.

“What are you kids do- Stop that!” he shouted, his alarmed voice booming through the room. “Let go, you rascal, let me- ARGH.” He yanked his hand up, a bloody teeth print adorning the back of it. “Did he just-?” He asked no one in particular, staring at the bite mark. Panic and disgust decorated his features while he tried to grasp what was happening. Getting up, he pushed the two younger men aside, trying to leave the confines of the bleachers. The man looked disoriented, his actions sparking chaos in the rest of the audience.

Jimin cocked his head to one side, rolling the ball in his hands. He wasn’t opposed to a well thought out prank, but no one would ever fall for the zombie skit. Even if they had half the audience in on it, the game was too important to him to lose focus now. He turned to Hoseok, whose eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. Jimin placed a hand on his arm. “Come on, Hobi. They’re just trying to distract us.” The elder looked back, nodding. He made his way over to the bench, ready to tell the coach to resume the game.

Suddenly the double doors to the gymnasium swung open. Three people stumbled onto the premises. Their arms hung low, eyes glazed, mouths slightly ajar. One stumbled and fell, dragging the other down with him. They clumsily tried to untangle themselves but seemed barely in control of their own limbs. The third dragged himself further, edging closer to the court with each limp. He seemed unbothered by the others' unfortunate collision.

Hoseok watched as Daehyuk, one of their wings, approached the guy. “Hey man,” he said, trying to sound calm but Hoseok could tell he shared his irritation. “We’re trying to play a game here.” By now he was close enough to touch. “We get it, you put a lot of time and effort into make-up and shit but listen-”

He was cut off when the intruder’s hand snapped up, wrapping around Daehyuk’s forearm with an unexpected force. “Hey!” he protested but before he could pull away, the man sank his teeth into the tanned flesh. Daehyuk cried out in pain as Jimin watched a big chunk of flesh get torn from his teammate’s arm. The ball in Jimin’s hands dropped to the ground, the bouncing sounds echoing off the wooden floor as he blinked, staring at the spectacle in front of him. “What the-”

Blood gushed from Daehyuk’s forearm, covering the floor and soaking both Daehyuk and the man’s shirts in the process. Jimin found himself incapable of looking away, gaze following the exposed tendons connecting his teammate’s arm to the man’s bloodied mouth. His lips parted, ready to speak when someone grabbed his shoulder and shoved him in the opposite direction. “We’re leaving,” Hoseok hissed, tightened his grip on Jimin’s arm.

“But the game-”

“Screw the game, Park. This is fucked up.”

He had lost Hoseok somewhere in the crowd by the time he made it out. As soon as people realised it wasn’t a set-up, chaos and panic had ensued. A sea of bodies was pushing and pulling towards the entrance of the gymnasium, fighting to get out.

Jimin didn’t stick around to find out what Hoseok’s fate had been. Jimin silently wondered if he ran home as fast as he did. If he was as horrified by the turn of events as Jimin was.

By the time he reached his front door, the place was a mess. A table overturned, broken glass scattered throughout the dining room, and the copper smell of blood in the air. “M-mum?” he called out, stuttering as he fought to catch his breath. Jimin moved into the house, climbing over the shards of broken china and wood. He held tightly to the wall for support.

“We’re here, honey.”

His mother’s voice was in the living room. He all but ran to her, finding both his parents draped over the cushions of the sofa. They looked as though they’d been dragged to hell and back. Beside them lay two bodies, not unlike the ones which had attacked the gymnasium. “What the fuck is happening?” Jimin questioned, gaze flickering from the bodies to his parents in disbelief. His father bled from his shoulder, but he just shook his head and nodded at their television set.

“A virus outbreak of some sort.” Jimin tore his gaze from the wound to stare at the screen.

“They wandered into the living room and attacked us for no reason. I didn’t even realise someone had entered the house.” His father rubbed his shoulder, wincing when a surge of pain shot through it. Jimin was ready to scold them for not locking the front door when his mother spoke again.

“At first we thought they were house jackers or something,” she admitted, turning to face him. She looked pale and tired. “But when I told them to leave, one bit my arm and it all just kind of-” She paused. “Escalated.”

“You killed them,” Jimin finished, his head spinning.

His father looked on pleadingly. Wanting him to understand. “We had to.”

Silence fell, and it took a few minutes for Jimin to find his voice. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.”

***

Hoseok, calm down. What do you mean, gone?”

The elder’s breath was heavy on the other end. “They’re dead, Jimin. All three of them.” A sob tore through the silence, and for a moment Jimin didn’t know what to say. “They’re telling everyone to evacuate but I’m the only one left.”

“You should go,” Jimin said softly. “Let them take you to safety. Check on everyone we know.” He could hear Hoseok inhale sharply.

“Come with me?” It wasn’t a question.

“I-I’m sorry, Hobi, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Jimin hesitated. “There’s something I have to do first.”

“Right,” Hoseok swallowed audibly, trying to diffuse the lump in his throat. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jimin interjected. “You need to leave. Go to your family in Gwangju. I’ll do just fine on my own.”

The elder boy sniffled but managed a faint laugh. “Don’t be brave,” he said, mimicking Jimin’s tone. “That’s not you. Meet me at the college in 3 hours. Bring a bag and your master key.” Before Jimin could answer, he hung up.

***

When Jimin arrived Hoseok was already there, leaning against the pale yellow wall next to the entrance doors. The school looked ghostly, completely abandoned and surrounded by police tape. Hoseok picked up his backpack as soon as he saw Jimin, looking worse than when Jimin had seen him last.

“Hey,” Hoseok greeted as he straightened, his voice heavy and tired.

“Hi,” Jimin replied, adjusting his shoulder strap. “Listen, you can still go back and get on that train w-” Jimin started but something in Hoseok’s expression made him swallow the rest of his words.

“I’m not leaving you,” Hoseok said, matter of factly. “You either skip town with me, or you’re dragging my stubborn ass around with you for the next couple of days until you’ve completed whatever it is you need to do.”

Jimin considered this for a moment. The two of them had great chemistry on the court. Hoseok was a little older than Jimin but he never made him feel small or belittled. This despite Hoseok having had more experience than Jimin when he first joined the team. When Jimin made team captain his first year, he was surprised to find Hoseok was the first to congratulate him. Jimin often wondered if he felt lowkey robbed of his title since he had spent a lot of his free time giving Jimin extra practice and teaching him his favourite tricks. But the older boy didn’t seem to believe in holding grudges. Jimin admired that about him.

Jimin clacked his tongue. “I guess you’re with me, then.”

Hoseok turned to the entrance doors, one hand on the handle. “Good. Did you bring the master key?”

Jimin nodded, fishing the keys from his pocket in confirmation. The school had given him a copy when he made team captain.

“Okay, here’s the plan. I’m fine with not knowing what you're up to or where you’re planning on taking us. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. But if there’s more of those things out there, we need to come prepared. My parents don’t own a gun and all we had that resembles a weapon were kitchen knives,” he explained, pushing the doors open to reveal an empty hallway. “So we’re taking the baseball bats.”

Jimin followed Hoseok right on his heels. “You want to go in there? What if there are still people?” He couldn’t keep his voice from trembling, exposing his unease.

Hoseok didn’t stop walking. “Don’t worry, the police vacated the entire premises. They were all taken care of.” He sounded confident, as he always did when discussing team play and tactics before a game. “We’ll be in and out in 10 minutes.”

The school kept all their sports gear in one place, at the end of the locker room hall. It was located on the first floor, past the bio labs, and right next to the gymnasium. The hall leading up to the locker rooms had a window spread over its entire length on one side, overlooking the basketball court. The other side was janitor closets and chem labs.

Jimin liked the fact that the locker rooms were so close to the court. He loved hearing the sound of people filling up the empty space. Each added voice murmuring in excitement got him more and more pumped as they got ready for the match. By the time he stepped onto the court, he had fire running through his veins.

His thoughts snapped back to the present when he unceremoniously bumped into Hoseok. They had reached the final hallway and for some reason, Hoseok had stopped walking. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the outstretched window. Jimin started apologising before he realised what Hoseok was looking at.

The gymnasium was filled with people. Bloodied, broken, some barely breathing. Jimin had witnessed the attack on Daehyuk but he never stopped to wonder what happened to him after he’d fled. Now, the sight of him made Jimin want to throw up. The gaping wound on Daehyuk’s arm had worsened, revealing pieces of dirty bone, and it oozed with a puss-like substance. The blood on his shirt had dried, crusty and dark against his red and white jersey. He wasn’t moving, just sort of swaying in place. All around, others were wandering aimlessly or staring into the void in similar fashion. Nearly all looked familiar.

One person was completely unrecognisable. Long hair covered a blood-smeared face and her right eye was no longer where it should have been. Her abdomen was ripped apart, its contents scattered haphazardly across the floor. Long stripes had been wiped into the pool of blood surrounding her, and Jimin realised she had tried to crawl her way out. Now all that was left of her was a decaying corpse, spasming from the virus which had taken up residence in her brain.

Jimin sucked in his breath. “I thought you said the police took care of them.”

Hoseok didn’t reply, moving closer to the window. He opened his mouth to speak but came up empty. He brushed the bangs from his eyes, wiping sweat from his brow as he finally took a step back. “I don’t- We should go.”

“No shit.” Jimin cast one glance around the gymnasium before grabbing Hoseok’s arm to drag him down the hallway. “The faster we get out, the better. We should never have come here in the first place,” Jimin started, reaching the door of the dressing rooms within seconds. Hoseok’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, muttering something Jimin couldn’t make out. Without a second thought, Jimin pushed open the door, taking two big strides forward and into the dressing room.

Five glazed over gazes snapped up to meet his, halting their actions. Jimin froze in place, eyes widening with panic. Behind him, Hoseok groaned. “Jimin, why did y-”

As soon as the words left his mouth, their old teammates remembered how to move. They slumped forward, stiff from the rigor mortis settled in their bones. Their hands were outstretched, trying to grab Jimin with a desperation which seemed more like a cry for help than an appetite for destruction. For a moment Jimin wondered if he could still appeal to their human side. If he could ask them politely not to kill them.

Instead, Jimin dropped his backpack and roughly pushed Hoseok backward. “Go!” he yelled, catching sight of the older boy’s puzzled face. Jimin’s words were curt, hands still grabbing Hoseok’s shoulders, urging him to move. “Run, goddamnit!”

As he spoke, someone grabbed Jimin’s jacket from behind, fisting the material tight enough to pull him backward. Hoseok’s eyes widened as realisation dawned, sending panic down his spine in an electric current. His entire body screamed to obey and run. Jimin yelped in terror when more hands continued to grope at him. That was all that was needed for Hoseok’s instincts to kick in. Hurtling forward, he put all his weight towards countering the walkers’ strength and yanked Jimin back into the hallway.

Hoseok managed to kick one attacker in the knees, making him buckle and fall, which partly freed Jimin. “Lose the jacket,” he spat as Jimin frantically tried to pry off another one’s grip on his arm. The fingers finally gave way, and Jimin shrugged his jacket off wildly.

They ran as soon as he was free. Ran towards the automated doors at the end of the hallway, which stopped them. Jimin pounded his fist against the glass as Hoseok ran his hand through his hair, eyes flickering towards the approaching walkers. He took a step backward and forward, making sure the doors had registered his movement. They didn’t open.

“Why won’t they open?” Hoseok barked, kicking the glass in the process. He turned to Jimin, eyes never once leaving the enemy. “Use your fucking key.”

“It’s in my jacket, dickhead,” Jimin retorted. At this point, he was more annoyed than scared. Hoseok was the one who got them into this. They would die here, and it was all Hoseok’s fault. Jimin punched the doors once more for good measure.

Suddenly a voice rang through the corridor, coming from someplace off to their left.

“Yo, idiots. Get your asses in here.”

The chem lab door was ajar. Hoseok’s gaze snapped up to meet Jimin’s and without saying a word, they darted into the room and slammed the door shut behind them. With their backs against the door, they stared right at the familiar face of Kim Seokjin. Jimin blinked. “Oh? Hi, coach.”

They knew Seokjin’s look all too well. He seemed like he was gearing up to give the boys a long, hard lecture. Seokjin used to have the same look back in the day when they really just fucked up a game.

Kim Seokjin was a man with broad shoulders, messy black hair always styled just right and hands big enough to hold a basketball on its own. His features were soft, but his rule on the court was unforgiving. Jimin had been benched four out of the last seven games he had been coach. When Jimin let attention and adrenaline go to his head, he tended to make selfish decisions during plays. And nothing mattered more to Coach Kim than teamwork.

Seokjin folded his arms against his chest. His voice was low, warm as he spoke. “Hey boys, good to see you. Wish we had reunited in different circumstances.”

Jimin managed a grin. He hadn’t realised how comforting his coach’s presence was on both him and Hoseok. “You know us, always getting ourselves into trouble.”

“Yeah, you’re in some deep shit.” Something in Seokjin’s voice changed. “What the hell are you doing here?” He asked, almost a hiss. “Scratch that. What are you still doing in town?”

Hoseok opened his mouth to answer this but was cut short by the sound of scratching and pounding on the classroom door, announcing the arrival of unwanted guests. He pushed back further, feeling the door vibrate with every bang. “Uh, I would love to stay and chit chat but I think we have bigger things to worry about.”

Jimin turned to face the door, both hands flat on its surface as he braced himself. He glanced down, a laugh stuck in his throat. “Oh, great. This door doesn’t have a lock.”

“I’m on it.” Seokjin moved halfway across the classroom to the heavy metal cabinet which held all the chemical elements used during labs. Quickly removing any flammable components, he beckoned Jimin to come over. “I may need an extra pair of hands here.”

Jimin turned to Hoseok, worry etched on his sharp features. “You good?” Hoseok looked as though he was about to burst into tears but nodded, adjusting his feet to get more leverage on the tiled floor.

They pushed the cabinet towards the door. The scratching of metal on stone made Jimin’s skin crawl. Seokjin positioned it in front of Hoseok, panting a little as he stepped aside. “Okay. This is what we’re going to do. Hobi, when I count to three, you move and we push.”

“And then what?” Jimin asked, resuming his original position next to Hoseok. “We stay here until we starve?” His temper rose with each word that left his mouth. “This was a mistake. This was a fucking mistake and I should’ve just left on my own. None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t dragged Hoseok into this.” He balled his hand into a fist and punched the door so hard it went silent on the other end. But then the pounding resumed and all he felt was desperation.

“This was supposed to be my fight. Not yours. Not ours.”

Hoseok grunted in response, eyes strained on Seokjin. “It is now. Deal with it.”

Seokjin cleared his throat. “Right. On my count. One-” Jimin pulled away from the door. “Two. Three.”

Hoseok slipped to the side as the cabinet came crashing down against the door, robbing the walkers of entrance into the classroom. But also, Jimin realised, blocking their only exit. Seokjin cleared his throat, giving Hoseok time to catch his breath before continuing. “To answer your question, Park. We’re leaving the same way I came.” He glanced upwards at a big gaping hole in the ceiling that neither Jimin nor Hoseok had noticed. “The air vents.”

Hoseok and Jimin exchanged a glance. The older boy shrugged, shoving Jimin’s shoulder. “I guess we’re going up.”

“Alright. But at least let us get what we came here for.”

***

The door to the dressing room was open when they lowered themselves from the ceiling. Careful not to make any noise, they made their way to the supply closets. “Right,” Jimin whispered. “Let’s take the bats and some protective gear?” He looked at Hoseok in confirmation, then Seokjin. Seokjin nodded. He was standing a few feet away, making sure the walkers were still hung up on trying to break into the now abandoned classroom.

“Hurry up,” he whispered, taking the wooden bat Jimin pushed into his hands. “And you know what? Pass me a hockey stick, too. I was never any good at baseball.”

Jimin rolled his eyes but grabbed a hockey stick off the shelves in the second closet, a metal bat of his own, and arm and leg pads for protection. His hand briefly hovered over a chest protector. “Don’t take that. It’ll only slow you down,” Hoseok said beside him, taking out his own stuff. He closed the doors silently and turned to Seokjin. “Ready?”

“Wait, let me get my backpack and jacket,” Jimin interrupted, remembering how he dropped his bag the first time they walked into the dressing room. “We’ll need the master key.” Tiptoeing, he approached the open door. His hand reached out to grab the jacket, then the straps of his backpack. He pulled them closer, followed by a loud tearing sound. He gasped. The contents spilled onto the dressing room floor, clattering against the hard stone tiles. His head snapped up to assess the damage. The walkers were looking their way.

Seokjin cursed, not bothering to keep quiet anymore. He moved fast, dragging Jimin by the arm away from the door. Hoseok was already positioned to climb back into the air vent when Seokjin gestured for him to come down. “We’re not going up,” he stated, eyes fixed on the five walkers in front of them.

Jimin started to protest but Seokjin’s expression made him fall silent. Hoseok hesitatingly approached the two other men. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’re leaving through the front door. Grab your bats. I hope you have a good swing.” At this, he let go of Jimin’s arm and stalked forward. His bat hung loosely in his right hand, dragging over the floor behind him.

Hoseok and Jimin watched while he let two walkers come close, raising the bat with both hands to swing angrily. The bat connected with their teammate’s temple, leaving nothing but blood and a collapsed corpse on the nearby wall. As the other tried to grab Seokjin’s shoulder, he tangled his hand in the boy’s hair and bashed it into the same wall, cracking his skull.

“A little help would be nice!” he yelled over his shoulder, to where Jimin and Hoseok were still watching, frozen. Seokjin was already moving again, ready to take on the third walker by himself.

Hoseok looked first at his bat, then at Jimin. He swallowed. “Right. Let’s do this.”

He rushed forward, grabbing the bat so hard his knuckles turned white. One walker passed a struggling Seokjin and walked straight at him. Long hair stuck to her face in sweaty patches, her eyes white and teeth bared. The image of his sister flashed before his eyes. Smiling, brushing long brown hair from her sun-kissed face. The last memory Hoseok had of her wasn’t unlike the girl before him. Anger jolted through his veins, spreading through his limbs like rapid fire. Tears pricked his eyes and suddenly he was screaming, swinging the bat at the girl’s head. She caught the blow on her shoulder, knocked off balance enough to fall over.

Blinded by his tears, he stepped over the girl, feet on either side of her head. Hoseok raised the bat, blinked away tears and growled. “This one’s for my sister.”

He thrust the bat downwards, the barrel hitting her square in the face and crushing her skull. A pool of blood exuded her limp body. Hoseok caught his breath, wiping tears from his cheeks. He saw Jimin take down the last remaining walker from the corner of his eye.

For a moment there was nothing but silence while Hoseok took in the scene. Seokjin’s hands were covered in blood, stains over his jeans and hoodie. Jimin had blood in his hair and on his cheek, a streak he was now desperately trying to rub off. Hoseok glanced at himself. His shoes were speckled with blood. It covered most of his lower legs. He cleared his throat and stepped away.

Seokjin wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans before speaking. “Time to go.”

Jimin nodded, grabbing his stuff and heading towards the automated doors. Not bothering to use his master key, he shattered the glass with his bat. He didn’t wait for Seokjin or Hoseok to follow him.

A/N: I was planning on making the jm/hs/sj backstory a short flashback in the other parts but it turned into a full sized chapter. I hope you can forgive me for only mentioning a few members again. Next chapter has all of them, promise!!

#noonanet #long forgotten sons #bts fanfiction #zombie au bts #bangtan #bts au #bangtan au #bts series

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