UNIVERSE / BTS.

74: boys of the apocalypse / yoonjin

BOYS OF THE
APOCALYPSE

WORD COUNT 4.4k
OVERVIEW two unlikely souls find each other at the end of the world.
FOR lexiiii minha princessa i really hope you like this!

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DAY 37 AFTER THE DISASTER. min yoongi, from daegu, straps his stolen machete onto his back and crushes a still-growling head under the heel of his steelcaps, cringing at the noise. surrounded by five decapitated bodies, all in various states of decay, he stands in the middle of a nearly-full shopping center.

to think, he just wanted to go grocery shopping, and ended up murdering five people — well. not people, exactly. yoongi whistles a tune as he picks his shopping basket back up, knowing this can attract crawlers, but he's ready for them. he barricaded the front door and knows the back exit is locked, the key on a chain around his neck, so he casually picks up more canned goods from the shelves.

"oh, cookie dough," yoongi says quietly, grabbing a packet of the uncooked stuff, for when he's on the road, along with some beef jerky and a couple of cans of soda from the refrigerator. he grabs a few frozen pizzas and realises he might need a cart if he wants to get the five litre bottles of drinking water.

there's lots of abandoned carts around, so he places his food in and sprays oil on the wheels so they don't squeak and attract unwanted attention. with a bandana keeping the stench of decaying undead bodies away from his nose, he wheels his 'purchases' to the back entrance, his vehicle waiting outside.

pulling his pistol from the holster on his calf, he reloads it before unlocking the door, not knowing what awaits outside. since the disaster, nothing can ever be predicted anymore, leaving yoongi on edge and alert at every second. he carefully opens the door, gun in hand, pushing the cart slowly. his van is parked six feet away from the door, so he does a quick 360 turn to check for crawlers, before running over and opening the door. the supplies are quickly loaded in, and just as yoongi's lugging the five litre water bottles in, a distinct harrowing groan noise can be heard. yoongi's head whips up, hand on his gun, and he sees two crawlers shambling towards his van.

quick as a flash, he pulls the bottles in, slams the door shut and jumps into the driver's seat, shoving the key into the exhaust and pressing down on the gas. the crawlers thud against the passenger door, but he reverses away and out of the parking lot, the sharp metal extension he rigged to the front of his truck cutting off one of the undead's legs as he drives off.

still on edge, yoongi pulls off his hat and bandana, breathing deeply. thirty seven days and those things still spook the hell out of him; he had a panic attack the first time he killed one, the distinct terror of everyone i know is gone and i just killed a man setting in as he barricaded himself in someone's suburban house, rocking back and forth in an attempt to console himself.

daegu went down a week after the factory explosion in seoul. no one really knows what caused the explosion, or the dead to start rising from their graves, but yoongi had been away for a few days, and when he came back, he slept for maybe ten hours and woke up to sirens. everyone except him had been either evacuated or killed — well, he thinks it's everyone. it's been a month and the only 'people' he's seen are decaying.

yoongi managed living in a house for maybe a week, slowly getting hungrier as food either rotted or ran out, so he eventually went to his apartment block, armed with a handgun stolen from the house, and found his trusty house on wheels, a ford transit van. since then he's more or less found himself being a nomad in this infected town, fighting off corpses and going on supply runs, whilst driving around to a different place each two days. he's learnt how to use weapons he never would've thought to use before, being the un-athletic type, and he's learnt survival instincts from books he stole from the local library.