BMC & DEH oneshots !!! :D

Apocalypse of the damned irl edition (Jeremy angst, mentioned boyf riends)

Tw: gore, zombies, blood, self amputation

(I also posted this fic on AO3 before this Wattpad book was created so if you've seen it before, this isn't stolen Im the same person)

Jeremy's ears were ringing, that was pretty much the only thing he could focus on, it was so insanely loud. He felt like his brain was shivering inside of his skull.

There was dried blood on his tongue, the floorboards were splintering his worn body. His arm hurt. Why did his arm hurt? He whimpered in fear. Everything suddenly became a lot less blurry as he finally came to his senses. There was a noise above him, a groan.

His vision came back to him far too fast, a zombie was above him. It had shoved him to the ground and it had- It reached out for him again and in a panicked he rolled to the side, he raised his dagger which he hadn't known he was holding.

He stood as fast as he possibly could, wobbling, his entire body was quaking in fear. It stepped towards him, its head slumped on its shoulder and its feet dragged across the floorboards. He sliced, closing his eyes tightly. He stabbed forward again right after, just hoping and praying he'd hit its head or at least knocked it over.

The body fell to the ground, the electric cyan color fading from the corpse's eyes. He whimpered in pain, rolling up his sleeve. There was a large bite mark, it was already swollen, red and purple. He looked at his veins, the blue poison glowing inside them and showing through his skin and for a second he thought he was going to die.

He thought he was going to die, and become one of them. He thought that Michael would come back to get him, and he'd be dead on the floor. He thought that he'd die alone and scared. He thought that he'd die slowly and painfully as the spores sunk into his heart and were pumped throughout his body.

He stared at his rusty dagger which lay still in his palm, and got an idea. He had one way out, one singular way he could live. He started digging through his bag as fast as he could, grabbing out a lighter. There was nothing else he could use to help himself, not any first aid or bandages.

He gripped the handle of his trusty blade harder, he gently rested it against his skin. Right on the line separating his arm and his shoulder. He took a deep breath, beginning to tremble harder. He raised the blade and then chopped down as hard as he could.

A scream ripped from his throat, shrill and laced with agony. His knees buckled, slamming into the creaking wooden floor. He knew the noise would probably alert every zombie in the abandoned town that he was there. Blood began to leak down the side of his body, squeezing through the small space left in between his knife and his flesh.

He struggled ripping it out, it had begun to go through his bone, and as soon as he had the blood began to flow insanely quicker as if it was a red waterfall. He let out a sharp pained breath through his teeth, if he wanted to live he had to go fast.

He slammed the blade into himself once more, letting out another shriek. This time it wasn't as loud, mainly because he didn't have enough energy for it to be. It hurt just as bad, if not more. He felt woozy, like if he delayed the next surge of hurt he'd just collapse and die.

He tore it out as fast as possible, putting all his strength left into one more slice. Finally he heard a loud thump as the infected appendage was removed. He fell down onto his hand, hot tears pouring down his face almost as much as the blood.

He lowered himself down to where he was supporting himself with his forearm. He quickly grabbed his lighter and held it up to his gushing wound, lighting it. He let out a loud but pathetic yelp of pain, no longer having the strength to yell. He pressed it against the injury, it began to burn itself shut. The blood slowly stopped as he collapsed.

He lay in the red puddle, heaving and sobbing. However he was alive, he lived, he survived. He kept his eyes open despite how desperately he wanted to sleep, he couldn't.

He heard someone call his name, he heard footsteps up the stairs. He knew who it was. He heard the door slowly open, and then he heard a scream.

That's when he closed his eyes, he couldn't handle actually seeing Michael's reaction, he couldn't, he really couldn't.