Work Text:
"Seeking Solace in the Aftermath"
Being a civilian getting mixed up in a bioterrorist attack is a traumatizing event in my life that I would prefer not to experience again. It was just a normal day, and I was working as an intern in a company. I didn't really care to bother remembering the company’s name aside from getting the needed hours done, doing my work in an office, when suddenly people started acting weird after a gas tanker nearby released some sort of green gas. A co-worker approached the guard to inquire about what was happening when the man suddenly lunged and started to attack my co-worker after we saw him inhale that strange gas. Clawing, biting, and letting out groans and snarls as if he’s a wild, rabid animal. I, along with a few other people, tried to get the security guard off my severely injured co-worker. His left cheek is missing a sizeable chunk; he’s screaming in immense pain, bleeding profusely from his wound, and cussing like a sailor. And I know the image of his torn cheek will appear in my dreams in the foreseeable future.
The commotion attracted the infected who were near the entrance of the building, and within a few minutes, all hell broke loose as a dozen people from outside started running inside the building to get to us. People screaming, getting attacked left and right, everything is happening at a neck-breaking speed, and all I can think is how to get out - to find somewhere safe. I was descending the stairs when I saw an employee vigorously pressing the elevator button. Perhaps to get to her car in the parking lot as well. I was about to tag along when the elevator opened, and she got swarmed by the infected, ripping her apart like she’s a damn Lego piece. This gruesome sight sent another wave of fear and panic through me, and I immediately used this opportunity to continue to descend the stairs and hopefully reach the basement where my motorcycle is parked, feeling like absolute shit for not being able to do anything aside from running like a headless chicken and watching another person die.
“Oh shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I muttered as I finally reached the parking lot. Surprisingly, it was empty at first glance, but I should have known that good things don’t last long when I heard running and screaming echoing from somewhere. It might seem heartless and selfish, but… I’m just glad that wasn’t me at that moment.
Fishing the keys in my pants pocket, I slap the keys in and ignite the engine. My motorcycle roars to life, unfortunately attracting a nearby infected as it runs towards me. Without wasting any time, I zoomed out of the parking lot. A heavy feeling on my chest as I saw a family of four getting swarmed in their car as I passed by. I thought about going back and helping, maybe getting close enough to lure the infected away from the car so they have a chance to drive off… but the fear of being attacked because I decided to follow my urge and moral compass to help made me hesitate.
“Damn it all…” I turn back around at the last minute, taking a sharp U-turn to the sound of the screaming mother and kids.
“Hey, asshole!”
I called out towards the infected as I used the headlight and shone it directly at the horde to catch their attention, “Over here!” I slowed down just enough to lure the horde away as the dad started the car and they sped off. The dad yelled out a quick gratitude before he took his family away. And I just hope they made it out safely.
Thankfully, motorcycles are fast, and I managed to get out of the parking lot with no casualties. But the streets aren’t much better. These infected are literally everywhere: the streets, sidewalks, in shops, anywhere I lay my eyes on, there’s at least a zombie there. I did my best to swerve and avoid hitting any zombies or the hysterical civilians who were running away or even trying to fight off a zombie. Once I’m on the highway, I let myself relax for a bit. Seeing only speeding cars that are trying to get to safety. I thought that no more infected would be wandering. But I was immediately proven wrong when I heard…dogs? Turning my head to look at the other side of the road, my eyes widen in shock at what I’m witnessing. A man in his late 30s is getting chased by mutated dogs. I watched as he zoomed past cars, doing these crazy tricks on his motorcycle to shoot and dodge the dogs. It was so…cinematic and over the top that I couldn’t really take my eyes off the scene before me. At first, it was entertaining to watch, but that took a turn when I saw him grab a literal GRENADE and chuck it towards a mutated dog, causing two cars to crash and EXPLODE ON IMPACT.
“Holy shit!”
I exclaimed as the tremor of the explosion caused the roads to tremble for a brief moment. A piece of the car's side mirror almost hit me. Which I barely dodge in time as I almost get hit in the face.
"Watch it, man!” Even when I screamed at the stranger, he was too busy gunning down the last mutated dog. The moment he threw that last grenade, I just noped the fuck out of there and sped off somewhere. Where am I going? That I don’t know. Is it going to be much safer? Absolutely. And so I continue riding off to somewhere safe - the airport.
In a secluded tavern somewhere...
After the events in the city, I left for…a while, to say the least. Contacting my parents back in my home country to assure them I’m fine, calling in ‘sick’ for work to have just a few days to really process the traumatic event I went through. And what better way of coping than to drink my worries away? Getting wasted in a secluded tavern somewhere, a few countries away, far from where the outbreak happened. The only way I knew that the city was not a nuclear wasteland like Racoon City is that a BSAA captain, a genius scientist, and a DSO agent cooked with that airborne vaccine and cured all the infected - I hope.
“Fucking hell.”
I grumble as I chug a glass of rum before immediately refilling my drink. A part of me feels like I’m being too dramatic, as if I’m making a big deal out of what happened even when I turn out to be mostly fine. I didn’t get bitten and was lucky enough to get out before things escalated. And yet, I just couldn’t get those images out of my head - the memories of several people getting attacked.
“At least I don’t have to pay for medical…”
Then someone caught my attention. That brown hair, tired eyes…it’s the same man from before! Feeling bold from all the alcohol I had consumed over the course of a few hours, I decided to have some balls and approached the man. I’m sure three bottles of tequila and two bottles of rum are enough for me to gain the courage to approach the man sitting alone in a corner, drinking straight from the bottle. I drink my last glass of rum before grabbing the unopened bottle of Embassy (whiskey) and starting to make my way over to the strange man. He didn’t pay any attention to me as I approached, too busy being in his own head and chugging his drink. By the time he drank the last drops, I smoothly sat across from him. The booth he’s in is dimly lit, tucked in a corner, and pleasant; there are no people next to the booth.
“Now, who the hell are you?” He asked once I got settled in.
I shrugged my shoulders as I put the bottle of Embassy on the table, “Just wanted to chat, is all. Thought you might use some company.”
Raising my hand, I signal to the server for two glasses and a bucket of ice. I like my drinks cold, sue me. The man observed me. Tired eyes scanning my appearance, analyzing my motives.
“Then what does a lady boy like you want from me?”
My eye twitched in irritation at the nickname. Is it a crime for a man to have long hair and a few accessories? The server handed us a bucket of ice and two glasses. Without missing a beat, I put some ice in each glass and poured the whiskey into each glass. Sliding the filled glass towards the man sitting across from me.
“I saw you days ago when the city went to shit,” I said as I took a quick sip from my glass. “Getting chased by mutated dogs while riding a motorcycle. Which, by the way, you almost got me killed with that grenade stunt you pulled.”
“So, you came here just to scold me?” He scoffed but grabbed the glass and took a quick sip of the liquor. Tired eyes glued onto me, still weary. Once he drank the entire thing down in one go, he put the glass down onto the table with a soft clink. “Look, kiddo, you don’t know how tough those things are.”
I hummed in acknowledgement, taking a sip of my own drink. Before, I easily brushed off and even looked down at the infected. How could I not? They’re slow-moving zombies; a quick shot to the head is enough to get rid of them. But seeing the infected first-hand, how tough they could really be despite the slow movements, makes me feel foolish to even think I could take them on. It’s easier to judge and criticize the people fighting when you’re not the one fighting those monstrosities off.
“How,” I asked as I lowered my tone, thinking of how one could repeatedly be exposed to such things and resist the urge to run. The fear of facing something beyond human comprehension. “I haven’t introduced myself, did I? I’m Milo Dismoore, a psychology undergraduate.”
Wanting to lighten up the mood a bit, I don’t want to come too strong from the start. Building rapport is the first step toward having at least a heartfelt conversation with someone. The man scoffed as he reached for the bottle and refilled his glass. Thank God he didn’t decide to just chug the whole thing down like the one before I sat down.
“Leon,” he answered, short and simple, as he took a sip before continuing. “A psychology student? Now, why the hell are you in a remote place like this? Don’t you have a school or whatever you guys do in your major? What? Are you trying to read my mind or something?”
“First of all, reading minds is a misconception. It’s bullshit. Second, I took some time off from my internship after what happened in the city…”
I paused, thinking.
“... I just… I don’t have the courage or the right state of mind to go back there yet.”
Leon fell silent for a few seconds before he sighed heavily, a flash of empathy in his tired eyes. Finishing his drink before pouring himself another one. At this point, he’s going to finish the whole bottle before I can even get my second glass.
“Hey, leave some for me. I bought that, you know.” But he just ignored me and started babbling.
“The city is safe. We took care of everything. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Yeah, I know, but I just can’t go back yet. I might be a student learning about the human mind and human behavior, but I am still a human myself. I’m not like you, who got exposed to such… traumatic things so often. I’m just a civilian, man.”
Remembering how much stress and fear I was in that moment made me chug my whole drink. This time, I was the one who reached for the bottle to refill my drink. Leon watched me as I immediately drank my second glass before refilling it again.
“But it still amazes me how you managed to fight those things off.”
My voice was a soft murmur as I looked directly at Leon. Remembering how my whole body froze when I saw my co-workers getting brutally attacked, and how I almost left a family of four to their demise because of fear. Despite my desire to save my own skin, the morals that have been embedded in my every being since I was a kid made me do something reckless, like saving that family. Which, if a tiny mistake had led to me not being here right now, would most likely have been ripped to pieces.
“Honestly, I was about to make an asshole move when the attack happened. I was about to ride off on my motorcycle while a family of four was getting swarmed by a small horde, just to save my own skin. But my morals absolutely would not let me do something so horrible.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I saw Leon in the corner of my eye, staring at his glass. The man looks so damn miserable and sad. It was awful to see, but knowing what his profession might be, I understand why he looked so exhausted. I immediately drink my third glass in one go, sighing as I feel the burn of the alcohol down my throat, slamming the glass down with more force than necessary.
“Thank you for your service,” I said after a moment of silence, and this unexpected demonstration of expressing my gratitude made Leon look up from his glass at me. “And I really meant it. Without your sacrifice and countless others, a lot of people, and I would not experience this luxury of feeling safe.” With a nod, I stood up from my chair. Feeling his eyes on me, I gave Leon a polite smile before walking away and heading towards my room to crash for the night.
I knew that my words probably meant little to the man. Honestly, I wanted to say more, to hear what he has experienced, his reason for continuing to do his job despite it eating at his every being. But I knew I would be overstepping. Poking a sensitive subject. And I’m sure Leon would probably not appreciate a stranger asking too many personal questions about his life. As I got into my room, I took off my shoes and immediately lay down on the bed. Unbothered to even change out of my clothes. I close my eyes and hope sleep will claim me quickly, as I do not want my head to start feeding me random bullshit or even replay the day of the incident.
‘Yeah, I’m going back tomorrow.’