Metamorphosis

TRIGGER WARNING: Death, violence, + descriptions of blood.

Read at your own discretion.

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Chaos. It was everywhere. In the streets, at the work place, in people's homes... There was simply no escaping it.

The deadly sounds of gunfire and people screaming bloody murder made it seem as though war had found them. From the eighth floor of Byeol Tower, Huang Zitao peered down at the world below.

"I've gotta get out of here! I gotta get OUT!" Another man yelped, his body pushed up against the glass. Just behind them, their fellow co-workers were pacing and fighting with each other, an impending doom on their minds as the undead slowly took over each floor of the tower. A loud 'CRASH' followed by a million shards of glass falling from the window frame snapped Zitao out of his daze. The man from before had tossed a fire extinguisher out the window and followed it suit. Rushing towards the edge of the windowsill, he had no choice but to witness his would-be supervisor fall to death, splatting onto the pavement. Fresh meat for the newly dead.

From within his pockets a cellular device faintly rang, Zitao answering it in haste.

"Mom?"

"Tao!" Usually the voice of his mother could sooth him in any situation. She was always the calm, collected member of their family. However, this time things were much different. The fear in her tone was deafening and it shook him straight to the bone. "I want you to know that I love you. You hear me? I love you, son!"

"Where are you? I'll come find you." In the background from the other end, more sounds of screeching and the gurgled groans of the dead nearly outweighed his mother's speech.

"The freeway ramp, just off Seventh... Don't come, you won't make it!"

Suddenly the line was cut off, only a blaring onslaught of beeps signaling that the call was ended.

There was no time to waste. Every second passed was every second lost to save the Huang clan. His phone was left on the carpeted ground, stomped on by people rushing about as the dead finally made their way up to the eighth floor. Zitao rushed for the emergency exit, finding it to be cramped with people; both live and dead. Luckily, the young student always kept a pocket knife on him in case of emergency instances. Of course, he never expected to have to use it; let alone be alive to witness a horrific apocalypse. Floor by floor he dashed down the stairs, jabbing the skulls of any undead that were in his way using the small pocket knife. Eventually he reached the last floor, about to make a great escape when another zombie had grabbed the back of his neck. The young male twisted around to face the predator, going in for yet another brain stabbing. Yet, when he tried to yank back his knife, it would not budge.

The zombie continually gnarled at him, their faces just centimeters apart. As long as the knife stayed in place, it wouldn't die. As a last resort, Zitao kicked the soles of his shoe into it's abdomen and sent the creature teetering backwards. Its head bashed against the edge of the lobby front desk, blood oozing on it's marble surface. With no time to mourn the tragedy, Zitao blitzed out the back door and ventured off to find his family.

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Leaning into the couch seat beside his father, Park Chanyeol used the remote to shut off the television.

"What the hell? We're all watchin' that!"

"Not me," the college drop-out mumbled as he carelessly hiked his boots atop the coffee table, crossing his legs. the whole family had gathered together at his parents' home in Jeju City after news came of the whole world turning into zombie central. They could all go to flesh-eating hell, for all Chanyeol cared. In his eyes, the world had never done anything good for him anyhow.

His father, shooting his son a disgruntled expression stole back the television remote and switched it back on. The news cast was just in the midst of reporting the craziness going on in Seoul, but soon was cut off, nothing but loud screeching and a screen stating 'TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES'.

"Well that's just great!" Mr.Park sarcastically shouted, tossing the remote control across the room. It hit against a framed photograph of their family, breaking it's glass. Just inches away from it was Chanyeol's mother, now glaring her husband down.

"Pull yourself together. The both of you." She chastised them. The two, though often butting heads, were very much alike. Both temperamental, denying everything in order to keep their sense of pride and reputation in tact.

A short scoff escaped his lips, the young man with messy curls turning his head to look in disbelief.

"I know you're not talking about me." His tone was matter-of-factly, the curved tip of his nose pointing upwards. Frustrated, Mrs.Park dropped the jagged shards of glass to the floor once more, leaving them as she approached her son in the living room.

"Yes, I'm talking about you. This attitude problem of yours needs to stop. Now. People are dying quicker than your grades out there, meanwhile you're lazing around on my couch and acting as if none of it matters!"

"That's because it doesn't! The virus hasn't even touched the island. Besides, don't you think it's time for the human race to go extinct anyway? They're all so... obnoxious."

A terrible burning sensation quickly formed on his cheek, the feeling of his pulse heightening as he could do nothing but stare up at his mother in awe. She had never slapped him before, let alone lay a finger on him in any harmful manner. Truthfully, she'd been smothering him since he was a child.

Taking in a deep breath, she went on to speak, "I'm done protecting you. Not when you're like this... You used to be such a good boy. What happened to you, Chan?"

A dead silence filled the room. Each member of the Park family standing by, watching all this drama consuming them. Chanyeol's lower lip started to quiver, his mind seeking any sort of answer to give her. So much had happened to him. So much that she was too blind to see. Where would he even begin?

From the backyard, a blood-hurdling cry for help stole away everyone's attention. They all speeded out towards the noise to find their back gate swung wide open and Chanyeol's grandmother having her skin ripped off her body. The shock set in, Chanyeol rendered silent once more.

"No!" Mrs.Park yelped, the first one of the family to react. With no weapons in hand, she bulldozed into the undead which still had her mother's flesh hanging out from it's blood stained teeth. On the grass beside her mother's body, the woman started bashing her fists anywhere she could get them on the dead man's face. Tears cascaded from her eyes, blurring her vision. Thanks to this, the dead one was able to grab her wrist and gnaw away on her forearms.

Suddenly a whole crowd of their dead neighbors surged into the Park's backyard. Within minutes, everyone in the house was either shooting bullets from left to right or simply cowering away in absolute terror.

Chanyeol was experiencing a panic attack like no other. People were dying one after one. It all seemed like a dream. A twisted, fucked up dream. It felt as though his throat was being clutched tightly, stoping the air from reaching his lungs. He couldn't think, he couldn't move. And now he... couldn't hear a damn thing.

A firm hand yanked at his shoulder, turning him the other way around. It was his best friend from childhood, Kim Junmyeon (who everyone referred to as Suho). His face was the last one he had ever expected to see at this moment. In the other male's hand was a hunting rifle splattered with blood, which once belonging to Chanyeol's father. Suho's lips moved, as if he were trying to tell him something. But unfortunately, since he'd shot right next to Chanyeol's eardrum, he'd been rendered temporarily deaf. In a way, it was nice. All he'd ever wanted was peaceful silence.

Without warning, Suho began to drag Chanyeol out of the house. Pushing his friend into the back seat of his car, Chanyeol only had one last glance at his family inside; every single one of them was dead, yet limping around. They'd all been infected with the virus now.

He laughed as loud as ever, but naturally, he had no idea that he was even laughing. 'What a joke,' he thought to himself. It was one of his long-time dreams to be left alone. To turn his back on every aspect of his life and walk away from it all. Now, his dream finally came true.

'Careful what you wish for.'

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"Is everyone here?!" Baekhyun questioned, counting everyone who stood cramped inside the elevator. There were about thirty two wealthy and famous people who'd gathered together to take refuge in some secret underground facility; courtesy of Byeol Shinhye, business magnate and owner of Byeol Industries. All thirty two people had either been close friends of Shinhye's or had managed to pay a last-minute price in order for protection. Byun Baekhyun, a popular beauty surgeon was actually recruited to act as one of the medics for the facility by Shinhye herself. It was beyond him as to why she'd choose him, a beauty surgeon, of all people for the job. But the subject matter had long been pushed to the back of his mind, too busy dealing with the apocalypse to give a damn.

They were short of one person. And if that someone was missing, it could be disastrous for him. 

"Who's missing? Did anyone see?" When no responses were given, the dark haired man went rushing back outside the building. Just a few feet away was the missing person in question; a tall, bleached blonde getting his right hand bitten by one of the dead. The poor man screamed so loud, shutting his eyes tightly so he couldn't look. Baekhyun used his pistol to shoot at the zombie. It fell to the ground lifelessly, giving some time for him to retrieve the wounded blonde.

"You're gonna be okay- You hear me? Don't sleep now!" He pleaded with the man, heaving him into his arms. No matter how much he pleaded, the blonde continued to flutter his eyes shut. Although he was a surgeon, Baekhyun had enough education to know that he could die from too much pain or blood loss. With the man in his arms he returned to the safety of the building, now all thirty two of the group slowly descending into the ground.

Setting his patient down on the cold, hard floor of the elevator, he covered the bite with his own hands. Many others had seen the bite mark, and now were concerned.

"Why did you bring him back? He's been bit! He could infect us all!" An angry voice shouted out, others agreeing by nods or grunts. Yet Baekhyun ignored them, desperate to save the poor man.

"I need something sharp! Like a saw, machete, a knife... anything with a blade!" Luckily, a nearby woman offered a pocket knife. It would be difficult to do what he had to using just a pocket knife. It would have to do.

"I need five of you to pin him down. Now!" Three muscular men and two women hustled over towards the surgeon, kneeling on the ground so they could hold their weight down against the blonde male. He was unconscious for now, but Baekhyun knew that once he began the 'procedure' it would wake him up.

Carefully he used the blade of the knife to cut a thin, clean line along the man's wrist- to act as a guide. Then, he continually pushed the sharp edges deeper and deeper within as it began to gradually slice through skin and meat. The pain was so excruciating, it demanded for the victim's full attention.

Suddenly the man sprung up, crying out and begging for it all to stop. He writhed beneath the weight of those who kept him anchored to the ground.

"Shit," Baekhyun muttered, clenching his fists in frustration.

"What's wrong?"

"The knife is too small to cut through the bone. We're gonna have to move this to the decontamination room. Someone pick him up and follow me!"

A faint 'ding!' cued that they had reached the underground facility, several people filing out into it's hallways. Baekhyun ran out, pushing his way through the crowd recklessly while a strong man carried his patient, following right on the surgeon's trail. One sharp corner turn and they were in the decontamination room; the only room in the facility which he knew he could operate without complication.

"Set him down on the table," he ordered, already looking for the proper equipment. Finally, from a bottom cabinet he found a sharp pair of surgical scissors and a medical saw. "I need you to pin him again. If he moves too much, it could kill him." The male instructed, his volunteer doing everything he was told.

"W-Wait..." The blonde mumbled, going in and out of consciousness. He'd been losing too much blood, far too quickly.

Soon enough the surgeon went back to sawing off his hand, breaking through the bone as needed. Few people were huddled outside by the doors to the decontamination room, eavesdropping on the gruesome operation within.

"Do you think he's gonna make it?" The woman who earlier offered her knife asked the others, all quietly gossiping to each other.

"He looks tough but if he couldn't fight off one dead guy then I highly doubt he'll make it to live another day." Another man responded, shaking his head as he released a huff.

"Hey, who was that guy anyhow?"

"I saw his face. I think it was Kris Wu. You know, that fashion designer."

"Fashion designer?" That same man scoffed out, both arms rested over his chest. "What's a guy like that doing in here? We need abled people, not prissys."

"I'm sure there's something he could do to help."

"Oh yeah? Like what? Now that he's only got one clobber, what's he gonna do?"

Just as the people outside were conversing, drowning out the sound of screaming, it all went silent. For a moment they stopped, moving their eyes and ears towards the door in hopes to see what had happened. Did he die? That was the question on everyone's minds.

The door swung open from the other side, smacking the one disgruntled man right in the face. He stepped back, wincing at the stinging he felt.

"Hey, watch it!" He shouted, looking up to see Byun Baekhyun.

Blood had soaked the surgeon's clothes and stained his pale skin, as if he'd taken a bath in it. The once grumpy old man was frozen in place, mesmerized into a sort of submission the second Baekhyun looked at him. His expression was calm, yet had an authoritative aura that underlied. His gaze felt daggers that could pierce through any material. 

"Get out of my way."

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The freeway was jam-packed with cars stuck in traffic. Many were abandoned, doors swung open with items and dead bodies littering the concrete pavement. It went on for miles and miles out. Finally at the ramp which led to the freeway, Huang Zitao was starting to lose his faith. How could he find his family under these hectic, messy circumstances? He checked every vehicle he possibly could, becoming more and more frantic.

Not knowing where they were, what had happened to them... If they were dead or alive...

It killed him to think that the worse possible outcome was also the most likely one.

Just two cars ahead did he recognize his mother's license plate, urgently scrambling over to reunite with the remainder of the Huangs. Dark crimson blood covered the inside of the car windows, blocking his view. He had to know what happened to them. Slowly, his scratched up fingers reached out to touch the handle, hesitant to open the door. Finally he swallowed his fear, yanking the door with haste. Sitting in the backseat, a young teenaged girl stared at him, tears in her eyes and the body of her young baby sister held tightly in her arms.

"Tao?" The girl whispered, sniffling the snot that dared to drip from her nostrils. His thick brows furrowed inwards, looking back at his little sister. His gaze began to wander down towards the infant in her grasp, making note of the hole in it's head and the gun which rested next to her on the car seat. He couldn't believe any of it. He was absolutely quiet, unsure of what to say. Yet she knew exactly what he wanted to know.

"They did it to themselves. A whole bunch of them were coming right at us and they..." Just thinking about it made her sob, vulnerable to the tragedy she'd experienced. It was so hard to speak, it felt like the words were choking her. But she knew that her brother deserved an explanation. It was his family, too. "I was gonna run away with the baby, but they turned and I got scared. They bit him. You have to understand, I didn't want to do it!"

It made sense now. On one hand, he could blame his sister LaoMei. They had a chance to stay alive with their little brother and she blew it. However, he was not that type of person. Not the kind to hold a grudge, savor his resentment. She was still young and so impressionable. How could he blame her for this?

"I know, Lao. I know. We have to go."

The teen nodded her head lightly, lugging herself out of the car with the baby's corpse still in her shaking arms.

"I want to bury her," she told him, the elder of the two protectively touching her shoulder.

"Alright. But first, we have to get out of the city. We can't drive, there's too many cars in the roads. We'll have to go on foot. I know some woods nearby, we can go there. All the fresh bodies are here, so the dead will be busy for a while," Zitao explained, already making his way north in the direction of the woods. When he realized that LaoMei was not following him, he came to a halt then turned back. She was still standing there in the middle of the ramp, observing all the death that surrounded them.

"If we want to live, we have to do this now. You understand?" No response. She simply stayed put like a statue, hardly listening to her brother. "There's no time for this, Lao! Come on!"

Reluctantly the girl took baby steps. One foot after the other. She forced herself to do this, focusing on her movement in order to keep up. The sun dipped down into the land, the twilight sky changing colors from deep tangerine to candied pinks and soft lavenders. So many had died in the matter of just one day. Her thoughts tormented her, the same question repeating itself on a loop in her mind.

Would they survive another day like this?

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