Hello everyone! We’re happy to announce the first event that this blog is hosting: Zombieman Week 2021!
The week of prompts will take place from May 1st to May 7th.
All forms of media are welcome, including fanart, fanfiction, playlists, edits, moodboards, ect. as long as it relates to Zombieman, and was created by you.
A general event Discord is available if you’d like to share your work with other participants. Due to Tumblr’s link policy, we will be including the invitation link in the replies of this post, and on the blog page.
A collection will also be created on AO3 under the name Zombieman Week 2021 and linked on this blog and in the replies. This collection can be used to showcase work in addition to any posts you’d like to make about your fanfiction on Twitter and Tumblr.
There will be a prompt provided for each day, but feel free to branch out with your own, combine prompts, or switch the days that you use the prompts for. There is no obligation to post daily, even participating for just one day is completely welcome!
In addition, late posts are welcome through May 14th.
Adult content is fine for this event, but please place it under a read more/post it on AO3, and tag appropriately so other participants are able to easily filter content to their own preferences. Please do not submit content that depicts inappropriate relationships.
Please make sure to tag your submissions with #zombiemanweek2021 so we can showcase your work, and if you’d like to be extra sure we can find it through any tagging system issues, feel free to mention us @ / onepunchmanweek. Work added after the listed dates should include a mention, as the moderators may not be watching the tag as closely.
“According to the Association, this site was once a hive of drug use. We were given a tip-off of the presence of Unidentified Substance S, but the Association was skeptical of the contact’s report, and issued a first response too weak to subdue the perpetrators. All our suspects were lost. However, our contact assures us that there is still a sample somewhere in the vicinity, although he can’t isolate where.”
The next day was the date set for extraction. Genos arrived early, but was still the last to arrive. Drive Knight and Metal Knight were already out surveying the area. Drive Knight turned to acknowledge him, but Metal Knight began to talk, aware that they all had the same sensors that alerted them to each others’ presence.
“According to the Association, this site was once a hive of drug use. We were given a tip-off of the presence of Unidentified Substance S by our informant, but the Association was skeptical of his report, and issued an insufficient first response. As a result, we lost every suspect. However, our contact assures us that there is still a sample somewhere in the vicinity,”
Genos scanned the area. They were in a recently destroyed part of City D, where the clues of people’s daily lives still clung to the debris; smashed bike frames were twisted around the poles they’d been chained to, toys hung in the rearview mirrors of cars, the cinders of magazines blew in dust devils on broken sidewalks. On top of the last remains of life before were the taped-off zones of construction zones and the haphazard repairs done by the homeless to make an overnight shelter. He could see abandoned sleeping bags, empty food containers, and even the scorchmarks from cooking fires, but everyone cleared out as soon as the authorities came
“Were there any casualties?” Genos asked.
“I don’t see why that’s important,” Metal Knight said.
Genos bristled. “The report I was given said that the initial outbreak in America caused countless deaths,”
Metal Knight turned to shine one red eye on Genos. “I wouldn’t pay much attention to the details of a report. The Association knows nothing about the substance or how it effects the human body, except for one man’s testimony; everything else is conjecture. Neither the association nor our informant can give an accurate report based on that data alone. It seems more likely to me that this ‘soy sauce’ substance caused a panic, which contributed to the death of countless people,”
If Genos still had a heart that responded to the electrical impulses in his brain, his quickened pulse would have sent blood rushing to his face and created a tangible sign of his emotional distress. He took a great deal of comfort in knowing his expression, when he met Bofois’ gaze, was as stoney as ever.
“Then I would like to know how many casualties there were in the wake of the panic brought on by the presence of the Association,”
Metal Knight turned back to the scene. “My answer is the same. Begin your analysis of the surrounding area. Look for anything unusual. Inform us immediately if your scanners find anything they can’t identify,”
It felt as if the liquids pumping through his body, the coolants and fuels and by products, were boiling in their chassis. Drive Knight signaled him with a small gesture behind Metal Knight. When Genos approached, Drive Knight bent down and whispered in his ear; “Let Metal Knight take point,”
Genos cast an anxious glance to the back of Metal Knight’s drone; if he heard them, he could interpret it as Drive Knight asking Genos to walk off his frustration. Only by knowing Drive Knights’ feelings about Metal Knight did Genos sense his contempt.
Genos walked away from the epicenter of destruction, into the ruined section of town. At first, he just wanted to put distance between him and Metal Knight, but soon he began his job, scanning the area and analyzing the remains. Looking for anything ‘unusual’ was like combing a beach for sand, but soon he picked up a pattern of what to expect in the wastes. There was a profuse amounts of carbon in the remains of wood, cloth, bone and hair. His scanners identified the remains of plastic, stainless steel and paper, and his human mind supplied images of all this waste when it was whole. He could see scattered charcoal as a park bench, chunks of glass as windows. New cardboard lay over the debris to provide a flat bedding for squatters. Plastic sheets made new walls.
He paused at the doorway to a building, which looked to him unusually pristine until he realized the entire structure was rebuilt out of broken concrete chunks like a giant, standing jigsaw. It was so well done it was almost seamless. He went in, think this counted as ‘unusual’.
He walked down the reconstructed hallway, then looked into the first doorway on his right. Beyond the doorway was more the blue sky. He passed it by and followed the hallway to the end, where he found himself in a round antechamber. There were a few burned-out flashlights littered at the entrance, and tall, slim openings along the walls to let sun in. The room was filled with light by the late afternoon sun, directed down into the center of the room where a child lay, naked and still. Something about seeing the child presented in the empty room made Genos feel phantom pressure in his abdomen. His sensors detected nothing in the room with him, except for the components of broken flashlights. He turned his sensors off and examined the child closer, trying to understand what about it made him so nervous. It was too still, he realized; stiff. Dead, he concluded, with a curl of his stomach. Rotting. It’s skin was tight and stretched around the bloating inside it's fragile body. It’s eyes were eaten away, tongue burst and spoiled. He suddenly felt dizzy. Not trusting the delicate structure of the walls to hold him, he turned away and braced himself on the floor. He waited for the nausea to die, then slowly prepared himself to turn around.
When he did, the child looked less real to him, more like a long, flat streak across the floor. He reached out to touch it, and his fingers only registered the concrete floor. The colors smudged when he moved his hand. He realized with shock that the image of the child was a perfectly rendered chalk drawing, so well done he couldn’t tell it wasn’t real until he looked at it from the wrong angle. He wondered who out here in the ruins had the skill to make something so perfect, and why.
Asking made his phantom stomach knot more. He left the room immediately and fired a flare into the sky to signal for Bofoi and Drive Knight.
The flare sailed up into the sky, then burst. As the smoke dissipated Bofoi rose above the horizon. Then Genos he heard footsteps behind him.
He warmed up the blasters running through his forearms and glanced behind him. He caught sight of a person and turned to face it, but his eyes didn't process what he was seeing.
He'd never experienced anything like it before; he pointed his eyes towards his attacker, his brain absorbed the information, and rejected it. For a long, essential moment his eyes wouldn't settle on the body as it picked up the pace and began running towards him. He took a few steps back, trying to buy himself a little time, but he couldn't see it-- like there was a fog in front of him.
He tried to stall. "Please don't attack, or I'll be forced to defend myself,"
The person gave him no answer, but now his eyes resolved the image in front of him to reveal a perfectly normal human, from the chin down. It's head had been crushed in. Broken legs pinwheeled it towards him. He felt something jump in his throat.
"I will respond to hostility with force,” He said, tongue feeling numb. The body was close enough to smell. He could see the muscle and fat under the dissolved skin on both hands as it reached out to grab him. He fired into its rotten neck stump and watched it dissolve through the fan of flames. He did not stop until the bones dried and popped like wood, until even the rotten fat had dissolved. He cut the fuel to the ignition and stared down at the remains. Most of it was charcoal, but the chest cavity seemed too big for a burned corpse. He was just about to fire again when it burst, spraying boiling meat and lymph over his pants. A creature the size of a dog unfolded in mid-air, like a combination of a parrot, a scorpion, and a baby doll. The next second stretched into eternity as he tried to force his blasters to heat up faster than physics allowed. The creature sailed towards him, stretching dozens of legs and one long, needle-like tail. Fire finally burst from his palm just as his brain noticed, almost idylly, that there was nothing holding its midsection together. The creature's top half dissolved in flame. It's lower half fell a little short, boiled, and burst. Hot black liquid melted his shoes and streaked across his pants. He lowered his arm listened for another attacker. The wasteland was quiet, except for the sounds of Bofoi's rockets roaring. Drive Knight dropped into sight.
"What happened?" He demanded. Genos was torn between describing the re-built building and the strange creature living in a corpses' chest.
"-I found a--"
Bofoi landed with a long, rattling groan from his rocket. "Did you kill this man?"
"No, he was already dead," Genos said. A red light winked on in Bofoi's drone, scanning the surrounding environment.
"You," He said. "Are covered in a substance my scanners cannot identify,"
“I am?” Genos looked down and scanned the splatters covering his arms and torso. He could identify all of the boiled human remains, but there were bubbles as black as oil that his scanners only marked, like an afterthought, as ‘unidentified’.
“I see. We should take a sample and take it the Association,”
“Absolutely,” Bofoi said. A long syringe unlocked from a recess hidden somewhere in his arm, unfolded, stretched out, and absorbed a small portion of the substance. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,”
“Good. Report to the Association for your full report, so they can put you under observation for any anomalies,”
(aka an excuse to draw Sonic and Genos like that)
I am so sorry, I don’t even know why I did this......but, weel, is the last day of opm week, I hope you guys like the last drawing of mine for it!
“That’s the only name we currently have for it,” Genos explained. “But once we’ve broken it down to its base components, we can give it a chemical name,”
“‘We’?” Saitama asked.
“Yes,” Genos confirmed. “The Heroes’ Association asked for my cooperation in their researching,”
“Soy sauce,” Saitama repeated.
“That’s the only name we currently have for it,” Genos explained. “But once we’ve broken it down to its base components, we can give it a chemical name,”
“‘We’?” Saitama asked.
“Yes,” Genos confirmed. “The Heroes’ Association asked for my cooperation in their researching,”
“...why?” Saitama asked. As far as he knew, Genos didn't have any experience with scientific research, unless he was the subject of research.
“Well, the substance has narcotic qualities to make people want to take it, and it’s already proven capable of burrowing through skin, clothing and heavy armor if it wants to take a host, so the Association asked a few mechanical heroes to help them handle the substance carefully,”
“Oh,” Saitama said. The spine of the manga in his hand rested on the floor, forgotten, as Saitama carefully absorbed this information. “That sounds really dangerous,”
“It is,” Genos said. “But Metal Knight and Drive Knight will be there to help, if anything goes wrong,”
“Oh, ok,” Saitama said dreamily. “It’ll be fine. You can handle it.”
Genos felt pleased. He stifled a smile and grabbed the remote, surfing through the channels. out of the corner of his eye, he could see his Sensei’s manga was still spine-down on the floor. Saitama was staring out into space, thinking hard.
“Why is it called soy sauce?”
“It looks like soy sauce,”
“Oh,”
Saitama woke up at three in the morning, sweating under his blanket. He noticed an orange glow behind his eyelids and opened them to see Genos had accidentally turned up his heater in his sleep. The apartment was filled with the smell of burning cotton. Genos’ eyelids fluttered delicately in REM sleep. Saitama kicked off his blankets and wet his gummy tongue to pry it off the roof of his mouth. He pulled off his shirt and pants, and rolled over on his side, but that wasn’t enough. He still couldn’t sleep. Finally he got up and poured himself a glass of water. He drank deeply, then cleaned the sweat off his face and neck. He stood at the counter, feeling the cool water dry on his face, thinking. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. He opened the fridge and poked around it for food. The rice cooker sat unplugged on the second shelf, with a cup’s worth of rice still stuck to the bottom. He took it out and plugged it in, wondering dimly how old this rice was. The timer started Genos out of sleep.
“Hmm?” He grunted.
“It’s just me,” Saitama said. “Go back to sleep,”
Genos looked up, recognized Saitama, then flopped back against the pillow.
“Hey, wait-- turn off your heater,”
No response. Then he heard the sound of the heaters powering down, and the orange glow slowly left the room. He turned on the light over the sink and ate hot, dry rice from the cooker.
He fished out the soy sauce from the fridge and shook a few drops into the cooker without thinking. A thought flashed through his mind; This is what that weird alien drug looks like.
He stopped eating and stared down at the cooker. A drug that looks like soy sauce, Saitama thought. The idea itself wasn’t outlandish- the name was short and catchy, and if this stuff really did look like the food product, then easy it would be for dealers and users to hide ‘soy sauce’ in their fridge. He could imagine the kinds of overblown hysteria people would have after a few tv specials, rumors spreading about ‘soy sauce’ infecting Hokkasai factories all over the world, conspiracy theorists for generations to come refusing to use choy. But the information Genos had on ‘soy sauce’ made it sound scarier than just some new drug on the street-- he said that inter dimensional beings were using soy sauce to make humans more susceptible to an invasion, somehow. According to Genos, there had been an outbreak in America that almost destroyed an entire town.
This was the stuff Genos was going to go pick this stuff up with his bare hands in the morning.
Saitama looked down at the brown stains on his rice. He tried to eat a few more bites, but it tasted stale, like the powder from crushed concrete. He put the cooker back in the fridge and left the spoon in the sink to clean in the morning. When Genos woke up, he’d want to wash it, so Saitama would have to try to wake up first. He set an alarm and climbed back into bed. It was cold under his blanket without his pajamas. He felt around in the dark for them, but after five minutes, he gave up and tried to sleep through the cold. After three years of practice, he’d figured out a trick to sleeping through the cold. All he had to do was really, really relax...
His heart slowed down to a steady thump.
The sudden sound of a fan caught his attention. Genos’ core released a bright orange glow, and a burst of warm air washed over him. He was annoyed for just a second that his concentration was broken, the decided that sleeping in Genos’ exhaust fumes was better than forcing himself to sleep in discomfort. He barely finished settlingon that conclusion before he was asleep, and dreaming about thorny black tentacles pushing out of his fridge.
I have other crossovers in mid for John Dies At the End, but the majority of them were chosen just for their ‘wtf’ factor. OPM is the only other canon that, I think, matches JDATE in tone. I wrote this fic with the assumption that JDATE has a very small audience, so expect explanations as the story progresses.
There’s one more part to this ‘chapter’ that I plan on posting today, but there’s still about 600 words that need to be written for it. Here’s hoping I can put them up!
