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Dancing Dead	By : Need2ScreamNow Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Avenged Sevenfold Views: 1141 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own nor know the members of A7x or their girlfriends. I'm not making any money. This is All Fiction, i.e. Total Bullshit.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: The video games and movies mentioned belong to their owners, not me.

Today was a rare day. A day when he had nothing, nothing to do. And what did he do with his extraordinary day off? He slept all day. He woke up sometime around seven, since it was winter it was already dark again and he smiled before sitting up and running a hand through his short hair and getting out of bed. His stomach growled demandingly and he took his time getting to the kitchen, stretching his relaxed body and trying not to shake off too much of the sleepy feeling. He was going for a record, two nights and a day of sleep. He ambled into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, a few bottles of beer and water, an apple just starting to shrivel, and some milk that was probably a week past its expiration date. Sighing he closed the door and searched through the cabinets; popcorn, vodka, whiskey, and there, in the very back, poptarts. He stood on his tip-toes and grabbed the box and pulled the last one out and started to retreat to his bedroom again when someone pounded on the door. He paused in his step but shrugged and continued back to his room, if it was really important they knew how to get in and he didn’t want to get dragged in to a two hour conversation with the neighbor again.

“Matt! Matt open the door!” Johnny’s strained voice made him backpedal and hurry over to the door, he dropped his poptart on the small hall table and as soon as the lock clicked open the bassist jumped in and slammed the door closed behind him and rested against it. His face was pale and drawn and light tremors shook his small frame, “We gotta get over to Syn’s.” He panted. His fearful brown eyes roamed over the living room, probing the shadows. Matt gently caught his face in his hand and forced him to look at him, “What’s wrong Johnny?” he asked calmly. Had there been an accident? Johnny stared at him in bewilderment, “What? Matt?” he sounded lost and shrank closer to the door. Matt pulled him away from the door and hugged him tightly, “What is it, Johnny” he murmured. Johnny clung to him shaking and pressed his cheek against his collar bone, “There’s somethin’ wrong Matt. I-I dunno. There’s, the whole town, there’s something wrong.” His warm breath ghosted across Matt’s bare shoulder as he babbled. Matt reached over and re-locked the door before he coaxed the smaller man to let go of him and sit on the couch. Johnny’s eyes darted around the room again and Matt put a stilling hand on his head and flipped on the television.

Immediately the room was full of sounds of panic, flashing colors, and a shrill news anchor’s voice. Johnny jumped up and once again clung to Matt. The singer wrapped an arm around him and watched the jumbled images on the screen trying to piece together what was going on. The feed cut from chaos to a woman as pale and drawn as Johnny sitting at a news desk, “The president has declared a national emergency and martial law is being imposed all over the U.S. Police and emergency services want people to stay inside, don’t let anyone in and if you know or are housing someone who is sick call police immediately. Stay away from the ill, do not, I repeat, Do Not, try to contain any sick person. Allow emergency services to handle them.” The feed fuzzed and cut out and the rainbow screen appeared a second later. Matt flipped the channel, another news anchor was delivering the same message, and on the next, and the next. “The fuck?” he murmured. Johnny shook under his arm, “It’s the flu, the flu has fucked people up.” He whimpered. Giving up on getting anything from the news he turned the television off and focused on the bassist. “The flu?” he said disbelievingly, “the one that shut down like half the schools in Orange County?” a new strain of the flu had permeated the world at the beginning of November shutting down schools globally and even forcing congress to delay meeting. Johnny nodded, “Yeah, it’s…it’s making them crazy.” He whispered shooting a frightened glance at the big bay window. Matt wrapped both arms around him and he snuggled closer to him, “I called Zacky, he was already at Brian’s and they said Jimmy was on his way over.” He was still shaking and his eyes never ceased searching the dark corners of the room. Matt shifted his arm so it was around the smaller man’s shoulders and headed back to his bedroom, “I guess if I have to deal with crazy people I wanna be dressed.” He said nonchalantly; Johnny continued to shiver under his arm.

He got dressed quickly, Johnny’s anxiety was wearing off on him, and grabbed two of his favorite knives, if the cops caught him he’d be in trouble, but he figured after seeing the chaos on the news they had other things to worry about. Johnny took the knife he handed him without question and the two went back to the front where Matt grabbed his keys and his poptart. He reached out to open the door but Johnny’s hand shot out and stopped him, “Knock first.” He whispered. Any other time Matt would have rolled his eyes, but the bassist’s cold fingers clutching his wrist and his terrified behavior convinced him to do what he asked. He rapped on the door three times, Johnny pressed his hand against the doorjamb and door, his body taunt with tension. After a few seconds Matt looked at him and shrugged, “Okay, now what.” He asked quietly. Johnny didn’t move for a second and then slowly he took his hand off the door and stepped back. Cautiously Matt opened the door, the garage was quiet and exactly how he had left it last night when he put the car in. Johnny let out a shaky breath and followed Matt into the shadowy room searching the darkness.

Matt slid in the driver’s seat and after Johnny checked the backseat he jumped in the passenger side and locked the doors. Matt hit the garage door opener and looked the shivering bassist over again, “Johnny what happened?” he murmured reaching over and pulling his head against his shoulder. He didn’t answer, but his shivers faded some and his white knuckled grip on his knife loosened. Matt left him alone again, for the moment, and backed out of the garage. Johnny kept his head against his shoulder and shut his eyes tightly when they started moving.

Matt knew, without any doubt, there hadn’t been any totaled cars on his street when he pulled in the night before. He also knew that the neighbors hadn’t been lying in the grass bloodied and disemboweled. He braked before he got to the street and just stared at the bedlam on his usually quiet street, “The fuck is going on?” he breathed. Johnny trembled against him, “Don’t stop.” He whispered fearfully. Clenching his jaw he took his foot off the brake and backed into the street. Ahead, in the distance the sky glowed and eerie orange, was it another wildfire? He shook his head, the forest was to the south, this was west, that orange glow was coming from the city. Helicopters thundered overhead, low flying F-17s screamed through soon after them. Johnny pressed closer to him, “Matty.” He whispered pleadingly. Matt took his eyes off the horizon and focused on the more immediate pandemonium on the street.

A car sat in the Hartley’s yard burning, the Chapmans’ windows were broken, bodies littered the sidewalks and yards, the street was an obstacle course of disabled vehicles and spilled suitcases and every more bodies. “Johnny, what the fuck is going on?” he whispered, how the hell had he slept through this? Johnny shook his head, “I don’t know.” He whimpered. Matt continued to scan the carnage, his stomach churning, searching for anything that may be even somewhat alive. No matter how far down the street he went though it was the same, like an endless loop of what he had seen in the first block; burning cars, burning houses, bodies and more bodies. A tremor ghosted through his arm, was he the only one left alive in his neighborhood? Johnny stayed quiet and shivering as he crept forward.

He was about to turn on to Brian’s street and out of habit he paused at the stop sign and there to his left, life. He recognized the small girl as one of Brian’s neighbors but he couldn’t remember her name, he knew though she was a good six blocks from home and in the middle of a war zone. Before he could even reach for the door though Johnny clutched his arm, “No, no, no, no, no. It’s not her.” He said panicked. Matt stared at him, “Johnny, it’s a little girl, not the devil.” He said exasperatedly, “I’m not leaving her out there to fend for herself.” He tried to slip his arm out of his grasp but the bassist hugged it against his chest violently shaking his head, “No, no, that’s how they get you, they look normal but they’re not, they’re fucked up, they’re all fucked up, she’s not normal, she’s not, no, no, no.” his terrified babble made Matt pause. Johnny rarely let things get to him and now he was clinging to him shaking with fear over a seven year old girl. Matt smoothed his tone and dropped the irritated words he was going to use, “Johnny, it’ll be okay. She’s not going to—” something slammed against the window hard enough to crack it. A short scream tore out of Johnny and Matt was certain if the bassist hadn’t had a death grip on his arm he would have jumped through the roof. He jerked his head around to the window, “Mother fucker! The hell was that?” he gasped, there was a splatter of red on it but no other evidence of what could have hit it. The little girl jumped on the hood and head butted the windshield and shrieked in rage when it didn’t give. Her face and mouth were smeared with red and black, her bloodshot eyes bore into Matt’s filled with fury and hate.

“Go, go, go, go!” Johnny screamed, “Before the rest of them hear her!” he buried his head in Matt’s shoulder again jerking him into action. He hit the accelerator and jerked the wheel to the left throwing the maddened little devil off the hood.

A minute later they screeched to a stop in front of Brian’s house. Matt stared at the steering wheel, trying to control his ragged breathing. Johnny sat next to him panting as if he’d run a 5K marathon. Slowly Matt convinced his hands to let go of the steering wheel and he put one on the door handle and the other on Johnny’s arm, “We gotta get inside.” He whispered hoarsely. Johnny’s teeth chattered but he nodded and put his hand on his handle, “Wanna count or just run like hell?” he whispered. Matt took a shaky breath, “Run like hell.” He answered shakily. Johnny nodded again and then they burst out of the car and ran for the door.

Right as they reached the door it opened and they flew into the house without losing much momentum. Johnny ran headlong into Zack and clung to the guitarist shaking and gasping. Matt skidded to a stop and felt like his legs were going to give out. Right on cue Jimmy wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged him close, “C’mon, we’ve been in Syn’s bedroom.” He murmured. Matt’s jumbled mind remembered that his bedroom was on the first floor and had only one window. It also probably had the most guns and ammunition too, easy to defend. He nodded jerkily and tried to coax his legs to carry him that far. Jimmy kept an arm around his waist and Matt managed to make it to the room before he sank to the floor. Jimmy sat down next to him and then Johnny collapsed with Zack on his other side. He wasn’t shaking quite as much, but Matt figured he was shaking enough for both of them. Brian closed and locked the door and slid down against it and closed his eyes. His hands shook lightly and he balled them up and locked them between his legs. They were all quiet in the dark room, Matt strained his ears listening for the tiniest sound outside that would tell him the girl had somehow managed to follow them or something else had found them. He heard the faint wail of sirens and the quiet ‘pop’ of guns and little else.

“What the fuck is going on?” he whispered tiredly. How could he sleep for almost forty-eight hours and now be exhausted again? His quiet question stirred the others to life though, Brian got up from the door and instead cuddled up next to Jimmy. The lanky drummer held him close and looked out the window, “No fuckin’ clue.” He said quietly. Matt suddenly wasn’t sure which scared him more, the demon-like creatures apparently running rampant or the drummer’s lack of a funny retort. Johnny rolled over and rested his cheek on Matt’s thigh; he looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his skin too pale. Matt ran a comforting hand through his short hair and his eyelids drooped, he scooted around to a more comfortable position and his eyes closed all the way. Zack ran his fingers up and down his arm in slow strokes and soon the bassist was asleep.

“You know what they remind me of?” Zack asked in a low voice, Matt realized he was half asleep against Jimmy’s warm body when he spoke and rolled his head forward, “What?” he mumbled. Johnny stirred against his leg and sat up looking around warily. Zack hugged him against his chest and the smaller man tucked his head against his shoulder and his eyes started to close again. Zack sighed and gave him a gentle squeeze and looked up at Matt, his green eyes were tired and fearful, “It’s like ‘Night of the Living Dead.” He whispered. Johnny shivered in his arms and Zack rested his chin on his temple. Jimmy rested his head on Matt’s shoulder, “Nah, this is more like 28 Days.” He said softly. A smile tugged Matt’s lips; at least one thing was back to normal. Zack smiled too, “Resident Evil?” he murmured. Brian whispered, “No, there’s not a hot chick here to save our asses.”

Matt snorted and bit his cheek, if he started laughing he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. He checked his watch instead, it was nine o’ clock. He’d only been awake for two hours and he was ready for sleep again, “Motherfucker.” He muttered, Zack nodded tiredly.

“You guys wanna try to sleep?” Brian murmured. Matt nodded, he was pretty sure there wouldn’t be any ‘trying’ about it. He was already half asleep again. He heard Brian get up and Jimmy followed, another small smile ghosted across his lips; Jimmy and Brian were normal as ever. Maybe if he just watched the two of them he could pretend like everything was okay outside too. Zack watched them head for the door, “Where’re you going?” he squeaked. Brian looked over his shoulder, his hand resting on the door handle, “Linen closet.” He said. Matt heard the quiet ‘click’ of a gun being cocked and then Brian knocked on the door. Johnny jerked awake and looked around the room wildly for a second until Zack calmed him again, he sagged against the guitarist panting and shivering again. Jimmy and Brian slipped out of the room after a second of listening. Matt heard them rustling in the closet and then they were back as silently as they had left, each with a stack of blankets.

Brian clicked the safety on and carefully set the gun on the bed within reach and tossed a couple blankets to Matt. Zack gently woke Johnny again and took the blankets Jimmy handed to him. Johnny curled up on one and immediately fell asleep again, Zack snuggled up next to him hugging him close and closed his eyes. Matt pressed against Johnny’s back and slipped an arm under his head and lay the other one gently across Zack’s. Brian set a gun down near him and then curled up behind Zack with Jimmy lying behind him in much the same way as Matt. Matt stared at the gun for a moment before he scooted a little closer to Johnny and finally fell asleep.

A/N: So I hope you guys are at least *a little* creeped out. I wanted to do something better than that dinky little oneshot that I posted last year, lol. Thank you for reading and reviewing!
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Dancing Dead