Cillian Murphy Oneshots /imagines

Jim 28 days later // wicked place, right time

Jim went on an exploration alone but never came back so y/n tries to find him in the apocalyptic world they live in
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It's been days since she last heard his voice, last seen his blue eyes, last felt the warmth of a fire with him next to her. Jim said he would check out the marked place on the map. They have found it in an aisle at night while hiding from this abstraction called zombies. However they did not call it that way. They kept the humanizing term 'infected' to still see them as living beings. As if they would not be brutally teared apart if meeting one of the 'infected'.

She counted the days hoping for his arrival at their camp. She started to worry after day 3 since the food he took with him would not last for any longer, at least they calculated it that way. If Jim strictly rationed his food and water he probably could last some longer. But now it's been 5 days and 6 hours of not hearing from him. The map showed a walk of 1 day so anything must have happened, she figured.

The only two things making her stay were his command to be here, waiting for him and the fear of being killed. Being alone is dangerous but Jim was clear and serious when telling her to stay behind. He didn't want her to get killed and if one of them walked into a trap the other still would have the camp. After protesting he convinced her to be here. In her mind wandering many questions around all of them about Jim.
"Did anything happen to him?"
"Did he turn into one of the infected? "
"What if he comes back soon? "
She was scared to go and look for him. She was scared to lose her life and she was scared to be decapitated by one of the bloodlust drifted 'infected'.

After long protest against herself she decided to pack her things and search for him. The fear of losing him has overgrown the terror of dying. It crossed to her mind to leave a note in case he would actually come back.

"I hope you won't read this. I hope I successfully find you and that you are alright. I know I promised you to stay at the camp but I had to. I can't lose you.
-y/n"

Jim found himself waking up in a dark room. He went to look what the promised x on the map was for. They hoped to find people to help them survive however the mark actually was leading them to people but the infected aren't the only hostile creatures, as he found out. The room he woke was cold and wet, it smelled moldy and he was sitting on a concrete floor, his hands tied behind his back. The unsettling feeling spread inside him. He could barely see anything but if he had to guess he was in a basement. Such a wicked place , he thought. It smelled like metal in here. The same biological smell of copper they feared. Not knowing if the blood comes from someone infected, guaranteeing their end or if it is their own. He shaked around to free his hands but unfortunately unsuccessful nevertheless he tried before finally giving up,accepting his defeat in freeing his hands by himself. Jim tried his best to get back to her. Jim knew she was waiting and probably was worried sick. He thought about her all the time. He did all of this for her to promise her a better life in safety. Jim wished she was with him but however he did not regret leaving her at the camp. To know she isn't hurt heals his pain. The only thing he regrets is not telling her how much she actually meant to him. Not telling her he is glad they met or that he dreams of her almost every night. Jim evolved feelings for her (color) shining eyes as individual as no one else could have, her beautiful hair he would like to stroke through and the personality of hers. He noticed every detail of her but never shown her the insides of his thinking.

He could see through the shine of a window, which let in the streaks of light shown by the moon. On a shelf was a bottle of booze. He was able to stand up and after shaking the shelf a little the bottle shattered on the ground. In the dark quiet room this sound appeared even more outstanding. His heart dropped when he heard footsteps over his head. He was not alone in this house and the thought of being in a basement just became reality. Bloodyhell, he cursed to himself as he held his breath. It wouldn't change anything but it lit up the illusuion of not being as noisy. After minutes passed he brought up the courage to continue by grabbing one of the sharp shards and cutting through the cloth, tyding back his hands. With the won ability to move his hands again he could find a lighter on the shelf as well. He grabbed it and lightened it. Jim shirked back when he could finally locate the source of the smell. The floor was covered in a pile of body parts in the corner. It seemed as if they dismembered people down here. The idea of being a victim of cannibals was rushing through his mind which increased his heart beat massively. Jim was thankful that he left her at the camp but now he had to make it back to her. The thought of leaving her alone in danger crossed his head. Jim wants to see her again, he wants to hear her voice again. He has to confess to her about his true thinking of her. He needs to get out. Jim knew it was risky and dangerous but he had to do it. Courageful he knocked off the shelf which fell on the ground with a loud smash, the belongings teared on the ground with it together. Jim grabbed the shatter really tight hiding behind the stairs. The moment they would come look after the source of the noise he would attack.