“Realistically. What were your options?”
“I could’ve gotten there earlier-”
“That didn’t happen.”
“I could’ve warned him?”
“Would he have believed you? He was steeped in their Kool-Aid.”
“I could’ve just fucking called 911 like I offered to…”
“Do you honestly think the EMTs would get there in time? I saw how-”
Something rough/experimental for Dukeceit Week, this year. Using the Day 6 Prompt: "Keeping Secrets".
I wanted to pull from a drabble I wrote for the iZombie!AU. Mind the warnings, it's kind of intense.
“It’s YOUR fault he’s like this.”
“Last I checked, I couldn’t turn people into zombies. Why do you even fucking care!?”
Remus spoke with vicious venom, breathing growing heavy but far too slow, “You’re going to die knowing that I’m Remus Ortiz and I’M Roman’s brother. Fill in the fucking blanks. You only have five sec-”
Remus didn’t give Tim a chance to respond or process that, as the life was choked out of him.
All that he felt was a brief recognition of how he felt being stared down by Remus.
Abject terror.
Just felt like scribbling a snapshot from the iZ!AU again.
Archive Warnings: Major Character Death(s), Graphic Depictions of Violence
Genres: Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Whump, Angst, Tragedy.
Characters: Roman-centric; Diane White (“Dragon Witch”, sort of) and Steve (OC) “supporting”. Virgil, Remus, and Janus opposing. Logan referenced.
Relationships: Roman/Steve (sexual) and Creativitwins (familial/estranged). Background Dukeceit (ambiguous).
Additional Warnings: Murder, Guns, Gore, Blood, Dehumanization, Body Horror, Zombies, Abuse (verbal/physical/financial), Past Child Abuse, Alcoholism, Smoking, High Control Groups, Roman & Remus Don’t Have A Good Relationship, Roman is a Mess, Roman Is Not The Good Guy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Summary:
What if Roman never left the Dead Enders? What if his first mark turned out to be a stranger? Can Roman bear the direction he heads?
(Non-canon timeline. This is gonna be rough. Main fic is highly recommended reading first.)
This was written for @halloweenhorrorfest! I worked with @brainlicking and they made some fun art for it too (intense gore warning).
Chapter 1: “it's cold like the ocean, cold like the rain"
It was near the end of graveyard hours, a couple days after Independence Day, and just on the outskirts of urban Seattle. It was still pitch dark out, if not for all the ambient light pollution coming from the city proper.
Roman didn’t really care about anything else at his post, beyond a funeral home that never seemed to have closing hours. He could even ignore the fact the car reeked of a boozy ashtray, it was Steve’s idea to let him borrow his car instead of Roman’s own garish motorcycle.
He didn’t want to admit it, but places like this always gave Roman the heebie jeebies.
It made him think about being forced to attend his grandpa’s funeral, as a child. A man he only really knew as an overly done up corpse. His brother would gleefully remind him of that movie with the wax figures and got full body shudders around that open casket. His brother had no sense of decorum about any of it.
He just had to get over himself, his duty here was far too important.
---
Steve tended to gravitate around Roman, as one of the veteran Dead Enders that showed him the ropes. Roman remembered the sting of Steve over-enthusiastically smacking him on the back, “Boy’s first solo mission! Aren’t you excited!?”
“Y-yeah.”
Steve’s tone cooled so much that Roman was immediately uncomfortable, “I’m sorry, what was that?”
Roman cleared his throat, stood up straighter, and barked out, “I’m ready to eliminate the zombie menace!”
“THAT’S more like it. I got a good feeling about you, kid.”
Steve wasn’t more than a few years older than Roman, but he was too busy wanting to show what he was made of to voice that source of awkwardness. He respected the guy a little too much not to, he held more trophies than most.
He clearly knew what he was doing, here.
---
-
This was simply a stake out, a recon mission.
It was a challenging one, since there didn’t seem to be anything too amiss about the personnel going in and out of the building. With some binoculars, he did wonder about some guy in a patchwork purple and black hoodie. Roman was also struck by how pasty the guy looked.
Roman shook his head and muttered to himself, “Could be just another one of those emo or goth kids. I mean, this IS a house of dead people. They’re practically allergic to the sun, anyways...”
Roman chuckled to himself, but his gut was telling him to keep an eye on that one.
Just because they had black hair, didn’t make it natural.
It didn’t necessarily mean Roman was looking at a human.
Roman needed more time to study this character, but he was definitely going to make a preliminary report on it. See what his compatriots thought of it.
---
Roman had done so many patrols watching and waiting in the company of the Dead Enders.
He had been stuck shadowing intelligence operations for the better part of a month. It made Roman restless for some of the action the more experienced members gloated about. For some of the praise and recognition, in working for something so much bigger than himself.
For a lot of the downtime among them, he would spend so much time practicing on the range. He wanted to prove himself ready to do some eliminations, shredding target after target. He needed to improve his shot, and those efforts earned some annoyance from the guy manning their cobbled together armory, Jim.
He was admonished for chewing up so much of their munitions – by both Jim and the Captain.
The Captain’s disappointment filled Roman with so much shame that he felt like he had to open his wallet to the group. It was only fair. He had too much in the trust fund his parents made for him to conceive of how he could spend it all, anyways.
When DW smiled at him for it, she finally complimented him on something, “You just might surpass me on the range, at this rate.”
For some reason, he was reminded of his own mom. A headstrong woman that only commended you when you deserved it. It made things that much sweeter. He felt he was on the right track, with her.
---
-
Occasionally, this funeral home took in a suspicious influx of bodies. Didn’t really correlate with the police radio feeds the organization had taps on.
It was drawing more heat to this lead.
Roman never got a good visual on the vans and hearses doing the drop-offs, at least from where he was initially posted. But he did see that emo kid’s wary body language during the transfers. Like he didn’t want to be seen, which was weird. All the bodies were in black bags, indistinguishable from any other deposit.
Soon enough, he had orders from the Captain to close in on what’s happening.
The first move-in involved Roman dropping by during normal day job hours, nearing the end of a week of this. Roman really didn’t want to learn the guy’s name, in case his gut instinct was right about the “kid”. There was a reason most of the targets on the board remained nameless.
Roman was glad to see a different person in the customer-facing part of the operation – the funeral director happily waved him in. Far too cheery given all the death stuff going on in there. A complete stranger, but at least she had some color in her face that didn’t look like make-up or a fake tan.
“Welcome! What brings you to Shady Plots Funeral Home, this fine evening? Name’s Dani!”
Roman really should have thought of a cover story to offer before entering the venue, but he was stuck winging it, “I’m- I’m looking into making plans in advance for a relative. Yeah. I just wanted to shop around, you know how it is?”
“Of course. Does this relative of yours have any end-of-life preferences?”
Roman’s guts churned, really wanting NOT to think about his own missing and presumed dead brother. His parents talked as if Remus never existed after he was released from prison. That didn’t stop Roman’s mind from dwelling on hypotheticals at the worst possible times. Like then, when Dani snapped their fingers in his face to get him out of that spiral, “Hey, I know talking about this kind of stuff is hard. Are you okay?”
“Uh. Yeah. I was just thinking about them…”, Roman refused to utter Remus’s name, even if it was just for a ploy.
Despite not mentioning the name, Roman found himself constantly making vague references to Remus. He thought, “Talk about what you know, I guess.”
Dani seemed to be very sweet and attentive about the whole yarn, Roman wasn’t too sure if it was genuine. But Roman did find himself disarmed a little bit, in doubt that there really was anything amiss here.
---
Roman remembered the first time Remus crashed on his motorbike. It was before Remus was rotting in prison. Not long after he got his GED. They were only 19.
It reminded him of the scaffolding incident, all over again.
It was Roman’s idea that they learn how to ride those things. It was Roman’s idea to fool around in that construction site they found when they were little. It was Roman’s idea that they try doing some tricks on their stee-bikes. It was just a moment where he could just have fun .
Remus had always taken the offer to play with Roman, with no hesitation. No matter how dangerous it turned out to be, looking back.
Remus almost died at a 25 mph turn near Mount Rainier, fresh after a sleet storm. Rock slide warning signs dotted the roads, never really thought about until then. There was debris on the road, Remus lost control of his bike. Roman almost sped past the wreckage, trying to avoid the rocks, himself. There was so much blood.
Roman was paralyzed when Remus didn’t seem responsive, but eventually fumbled to call emergency services. He barely managed to get across what happened, the signal was so bad up there. Remus was taken by helicopter.
It really was touch and go, and Roman struggled to process what was happening. The parents seemed to worry too, but they were trapped in an airport or stuck in traffic or... So it was only him for the doctors to talk to about it, it didn’t feel real. In a blur, Remus was in and out of surgery to get more plates and screws in him. The medical stuff still flew over his head.
Remus didn’t complain nearly as much as he did when he was younger, as he was in recovery. There was something off about it all to Roman. All told, It was some miracle that Remus was able to “walk” it all off with a smile.
His parents thought it was always Remus’s fault. Roman started to believe his parents, after Remus kept finding himself behind bars or in a hospital. After Roman was no longer steering him in the path of self-destruction. Remus was his own person and seemed to accept his part in everything.
He had to own up to the consequences. Remus could have simply told Roman, “no”.
---
-
Roman was brought back to the present when a phone rang from a nearby office room.
Dani took the moment to say, “Sorry, I need to take that call. I’ll be right with you.”
She left to answer it and Roman couldn’t help but try to listen in from where he was. He only got fragments of a brief exchange, “Shady Plots Funeral Home, how may I help you?”
“Mhmm. Really? I understand, It’s deeply unfortunate that-”
“- plenty room for intake.”
“I’ll tell my tech about that, thank you, Dr. Min!”
Dani went back to addressing Roman, “Thank you for your patience! Would you like to hear about our service packages?”
“I-I’ll have to think about this some more. But thanks for all your information, Miss.”
“Sure thing, hon’.”
As he broke things away, Roman swore he saw the guy in the hoodie moving about in the back area of the place, although it wasn’t entirely clear what he was doing there. But he would rather get back into Steve’s car, than to prolong his stay. It was only a preliminary mission, after all.
He idly wondered who that Dr. Min guy was, it probably wasn’t important.
-
There were a few different places that the Dead Enders met up.
Different high ranking members had owned the various facilities at their disposal. An armory, a gun range, an “abandoned” fast food restaurant functioning as their HQ, and a couple warehouses. Roman knew he had helped the group afford some of the logistics, but he was impressed by how much was already established when he joined up.
There were a few bloodless rookies like Roman, but they usually bailed in their first few weeks. They were often not aware of the special board devoted to deserters, that was a privilege afforded only on a case by case basis. Those that remained loyal, were vicious in how they were talked about. Well beyond name-calling, in a lot of cases – there were veiled threats .
Some of the more gruff, veteran types had background with the law enforcement, or the military, or something else, Roman was scared to ask. Steve was in that third category, and he was the one who told Roman about it before the Captain did.
Roman wasn’t sure what he felt when he was given that information. Some weird mix of intimidated and honored. Steve claimed to see a lot of potential in him and was the one member that chatted with him the most.
After a couple weeks into the month, Steve ran over to Roman with news, “Hey, rookie! Did you hear about Eddy, yet?”
“No?”
“Guy was supposed to be around to keep an eye on you, but he got caught unawares by one of those zombie freaks, a couple days ago. We don’t know which of them did it, buuut-.”
Roman gulped, suddenly feeling a creeping dread, “What?”
“He’s dead as a doornail. And you know what that means, right?”
“Maybe?”
“You gotta-!”, Steve was interrupted by someone buzzing Roman’s phone.
It was the Captain, no message. Roman got shaky a moment, “I-I guess the boss wants me.”
Steve grinned, “Then who am I to stop you? Go. I gotta good feeling about this.”
-
Roman gave the Captain all the information he had on Shady Plots from his time on assignment.
Her next order to Roman was, “Well, consider your target priority escalated. Either find irrefutable proof that that body burner isn’t affiliated with those monsters AND that they’re also human. OR kill it . I don’t care which. You have by month’s end, Roman. Dear Eddy must be avenged .”
The first time he stood in her office, he saw a portrait of DW and her husband, Scott. She appeared to love him, but it was often hard to tell. At some point the photo still sat at the desk, but faced down. She pointedly glared at it as she spoke of Eddy. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.
Roman spent the next week, wanting to convince himself the guy in the hoodie was innocent. It wasn’t because he was a coward or anything. He just wished it was one of those in the late-stages, at that point, they had no sign of humanity. Ones more like that monster he had the privilege to see when he only just joined the group, a couple months or so ago. He barely knew how to even use a shotgun, then.
One thing Roman noticed about the guy’s body language was being more wary and nervous about something. The influxes at the funeral home, the timing and location of Eddy’s death, it was all too suspicious.
As Roman continued tailing him – he noticed the guy often took a pit stop at a rather obscure deli joint, the Meat Cute Charcuterie. It wasn’t part of any big franchise and didn’t get many customers. Roman wondered how it could even stay in business. He really wasn’t the best judge on value, so he often took the other Dead Enders’ word that the menu was overpriced, too. Their specials tasted a little funny and were entirely too spicy for their blood.
Besides the poor reviews of his compatriots, it all just seemed to be so normal. At first.
Occasionally, Roman would see one of the same vans that delivered bodies to Shady Plots, parked near the back entrance of the place. A finding that often coincided with the hoodie chatting with some suit that wore garish yellow gloves. The suit also spent a lot of time chatting with the owners of the place.
Usually, there wasn’t much happening with said van. For a while, Roman thought, “maybe the drivers just liked to have lunch there.”
That was until one night, where he saw someone lugging in a black bag that Roman was sure had a body in it. Roman immediately concluded, “This has to be some kind of ring operation, the Captain has to know about this!”
-
The Captain only became more strident in her command for Roman to make his move.
In the last week of July, he finally found his opportunity to confront his mark. The runt had some metal debris in a wheelbarrow, heading for one of the dumpsters in the back of the crematory building. It was a dead end- the building on one side, wall behind the end and the other side. The only obvious way in or out of there, Roman had blocked off.
The runt was humming along to a vaguely familiar tune, back turned to Roman and shoveling stuff into the dumpster. Roman briefly thought, “… is that Paramore ? No. Don’t get distracted .”
Roman slowly approached his target, his shotgun ready to fire.
The runt with the hoodie froze at the sight of the weapon, once it turned around. It raised its hands, “Whoa-whoa-whoa! Can we just- talk this out? Do- do you want my money? I don’t have a lot, but-”
Roman wasn’t going to fall for it, “Do you take me for a common thief? I know what you are!”
The runt gulped, “Wh-what did I even do to you?”
Roman fought down his own shakes, as he rose the barrel to the emo’s center mass, “YOU know what you did. What you’re complicit in doing!”
The emo flinched and had such a look of fear that made Roman doubt whether the target really was a monster. But the Dead Enders told him in no uncertain terms this guy WAS Eddy’s killer. He saw the evidence.
“Please. I’ll do anything, don’t sh-shoot!”
Even if the runt was human, he was still sighted with those undead freaks. The Captain said no loose ends. Roman raised the barrel up to the guy’s face a moment, “Take it up with the guy upstairs.”
In a moment of uncertainty, Roman wound up drifting down to the guy’s center again. The emo still tried to pacify Roman, seeing Roman faltering, “Wh-what’s your name?”
“Nobody important. Yet.”
Roman shook his head a moment, squeezed the trigger, and closed his eyes a moment. There was a clipped shout that made Roman open up and readjust to the muzzle flash and the scene before him.
The shout came from the target who was just standing there in shock – hand to his gut and staring at the blood dribbling out. What disturbed Roman even more was how the guy, the monster , didn’t even wince at it. He didn’t realize he was gawking until the target slowly looked him in the eyes.
It confirmed Roman’s worst fears, as its eyes darkened and reddened, as it started to run for him.
Roman yelped and quickly pumped the shotgun. The monster’s expression was hard to read, Roman refused to look again before firing one more time. Roman’s heart felt like it was going to explode, bracing for a strike that never came.
Just like that. The zombie was missing most of its head, went limp, and collapsed. It had reached out toward Roman, moments before annihilation, landing less than a foot away from him. Roman stared down at the corpse, worried it might flinch with life. As the seconds crept by, he was lost in his own handiwork and his stomach turned.
He looked around for any more threats before unloading the gun, flipping on the safety, and putting it away. After some more moments to barely collect himself, he shakily contacted Steve, “H-hey. Steve? Tell the Captain I did it. The monster who took down Eddy will no longer be a problem.”
“Oh? You HAVE to snap a picture.”
“O-Of course. You know my location? I need some janitors over here.”
“I’m so looking forward to seeing that on the board for you. We should go grab a drink together to celebrate, yeah?”
“S-sure, Sounds like fun!”
They soon closed the call and Roman did what Steve asked. Really, it was Dead Ender policy to never use your phone to take trophies – the more old school, the better. They had a guy who could covertly develop the film later. Roman pulled out the fancy Polaroid he bought when he was still going to college and snapped a few pictures for the group.
