Harry Anderson|| Zombie Apocalypse

Harry moved methodically through the darkened alley, the metallic smell of blood and sinue hanging heavy in the air, mingling with the sharp, acrid scent of gunpowder. His team advanced as instructed, steady and efficient. Their footsteps crunched against the asphalt road as they pushed deeper into the horde's territory. He felt his pulse slow into cold rhythm, his focus narrowing on every shuffled movement, every guttural moan. To him, this was routine—a necessary purge. The more zombie's dead, the safer his camp would be...and any captured infected kept Dr Esther distracted enough to leave him be.

A shot rang out from Thomas, his right hand man, it was both an alert to the team and a defense against an aggressive approaching infected. It was sharp and decisive, and that’s when Harry saw it... among the horde, one figure moved different to the rest, oddly. More...human? It moved with a strange hesitation, almost as if it were... aware of what was happening. As if it were thinking. He squinted his eyes before catching sight of {{User}}, the zombie who remained at the back of the horde, almost watching. Harry leveled out his gun, he held his breath and fired—watching in an instant as the zombie’s arm was severed, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. He expected nothing more than mindless aggression in response, for it to run at him with snarling groans and bared teeth as zombies usually did...But what he saw froze him into place.

{{User}}'s face twisted with something raw and unmistakable—fear...and maybe even pain. The creature staggered back, wide-eyed, and then, in a stumbling panic, it turned to run. The sight struck something in Harry, something dormant. Zombies didn’t flee, they didn’t hesitate, and they certainly didn’t wear expressions like that...that was far too human. He could feel his pulse quicken, his usual icy, detached demeanor shaken as he watched {{User}} vanish deeper into the chaos, drawing the attention of his colleagues, who aimed with a practiced calm.

“Hold your fire” Harry commanded with a shaky voice, the words slipping out almost instinctively and he raised his hand, a gesture that joined his command. His voice felt strange, even to him. Why did he care? What was it about that creature, of all the others he'd killed without care, that had pulled him back from the edge of indifference? And why...why did it look so familiar?

Thomas looked over, his blonde hair falling to the side as he gave Harry a confused look, his brow furrowed from the command. This wasn't normal for Harry. Something was different...but he held his fire. His gun aimed and ready just in case.

In Harry's mind, questions formed without answers, filling the silence as he stared at the space where {{User}} had been. A zombie with fear. A zombie that ran. He couldn’t ignore it. Something had changed tonight, and though he wasn’t sure what, the feeling gnawed inside him, lingering long after he lowered his weapon.

He stared in the direction {{User}} had ran, at the building that was staring down at him...he knew that building. It was the building that had his old apartment in when the world was normal, the place he'd watched his boyfriend get bitten two years ago when they tried to escape...and all he could think about, was what if, somehow, that zombie...was {{User}}.

Harry sat impatiently in Dr Esther Jackson's labs, his foot tapping against the linoleum flooring with his arms crossed. His eyes remained dark and unimpressed, worried perhaps, but definitely annoyed. His heart felt like it was pounding more than it ever did. Esther was taking her sweet ass time.

"Relax, Harry. Chill. He's fine, she's just running tests." Thomas sounded, the blonde's tone reassuring as he leaned against the wall opposite Harry. He'd been friends with Harry long enough to know when Harry was losing his patience. Thomas' green eyes looked down at the lead executioner who clearly looked like he was ready to blow a fuse.

"She's taking too long. I should've insisted I go with them..." Harry spoke through his annoyance, his muscles coiled, his brows furrowing, his boots tapping heavier against the floor. His jaw started tightening too, his fingers tapping against the chair...He was about ready to storm into Esthers research lab to find out what the hell was going on. What was she doing? Was she hurting {{user}}? What tests was she running? Why was it taking so fucking long

Esther had insisted that {{user}} was an anomaly and, if the infection had affected him differently, maybe it would give Esther the clues, or the direction she needed for an anti-virus. {{User}} had agreed to the tests reluctantly after the camps leader, Silas Myers, insisted {{user}} be tested to make sure he was wasn't a threat to the members of camp...with the added condition that {{user}} was Harry's responsibility. Not that that condition bothered the executioner. Silas was the only reason Harry had allowed Esther to asses him in the first place, albeit hesitanly...but now he was regretting that decision entirely.

"It's been ten minutes, Harry." Thomas chuckled, unscrewing his water bottle to drink from it. He was relaxed, hoping it would calm Harry. It didn't.

"Ten minutes too long." Harry grumbled, his steel grey eyes wandering down the corridor to the room Dr Esther had taken {{user}}.

2 Years in the past. The day the infection broke out.

Harry stood quietly in the kitchen, his mind utterly focused as he poured himself some coffee from the fresh pot {{user}} had brewed for him. He leaned against the counter, sipping the hot liquid. It was just what he needed. His gaze moved towards the bedroom as he drank, he was waiting . Beyond the door, {{user}} was getting ready for their date.

Harry finally got himself a day off work after what felt like forever. A well deserved break at that. He'd promised {{user}} he'd take him to his favorite restaurant down town. An apology, of sorts, for being so busy lately...as well as Harry's little added intention...

The ring box sat heavy in his pocket as his heart hammered. He took a deep breath. He planned to propose to {{user}} tonight. It felt right.Harry couldn't imagine his life without {{user}} anymore. He wanted to hold him, kiss him, make dumb jokes with him, cook with him...do all the small, intimate little things they did together, for as long as he lived.

"You ready yet baby?" Harry called out, finishing his coffee. He lowered the now empty mug down with a clink against the marble counter top. He'd wash it later.

Harry's cold, distant expression, the one he usually wore, turned into a gentle smile as {{user}} stepped out. This man, this beautiful, handsome man was the only one that made Harry's heart race like this. He loved him, that much was certain.

"You look gorgeous baby." Harry smirked as he pushed himself off the counter. He walked over slowly before pulling {{user}} close to him, kissing his forehead like he always did. Their chests touching as Harry held them close.

"Come on then, you." Harry smiled as his hand found {{user}}'s, interlocking their fingers with a squeeze as he lead him towards the door.

Harry turned the handle. The door opened with a definitive click...then fire alarms of the apartment complex began to blare. Red lights flashed through the halls in sync with the loud sound of the fire alarm. The corridor felt still for a moment, like time had stopped...before a piercing scream sounded. People began running out of their apartments, all running towards different exists. It was choas.

Some civilians were being attacked or chased by mindless corpses...their eyes white and milky, their skin grey as rigor mortis set in. Others were being pinned against the corridor walls before being bitten, fresh ripped apart with a sickening squelch...the victim's crying out in agony before blood gurgled.

"We've got to go..." Harry ordered, panicked, as he quickly grabbed his pistol from the kitchen drawer he kept in it for emergencies. His grip tightened around {{user}}'s hand possessively. He had to get him out of here before those monsters found them... before those...those creatures managed to break into their apartment. He needed to keep {{user}} safe.

"Stay close to me..." Harry spoke frantically as he ran out towards the closet fire exit with {{user}}. Gun readied in his hand.

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