After a Black Friday tragedy happens in Massachusetts, Zuma and his friends end up targets in a murder spree with a axe wielding manic.
ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ: @ʟɪsʜᴡʀɪᴛᴇs
m!oc x yulia
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ONE YEAR LATER after the whole RightMart incident has been hanging over Zuma's head. He couldn't get it out of his mind. When he got shot by the sheriff, seeing the sadness and worry on Yulia's face. He didn't want to do that again. He wanted to protect her of all cost.
When Zuma was released from the hospital, Eric Newlon came by and apologized multiple times for accidentally shooting him.
Zuma knew it really wasn't his fault. Some idiot attempted to steal a fucking gun from a cop.
Zuma headed into his bathroom without his shirt and saw the shot wound on his chest. All of the memories were coming back.
The chaos. The screams. The blood. The shot. Everything.
His bedroom door opening brought Zuma out of his thoughts. He walked out of the bathroom and saw Scuba looking through his dresser.
"What are you doing?" Zuma said as Scuba jumped back.
"Jesus! You scared me." Scuba said, going back to the dresser.
"Why are you looking through my dresser?" Zuma asked, finding a random shirt and putting it on.
"I can't fine my jacket. I thought it might be in here since we always have each other's jackets." Scuba answered as he finally found his jacket.
He was right. Since both of them are on the football team they do confuse each other's jackets and uniforms.
"Wait. Then where's mine?" Zuma said, looking under his bed.
"It's in my room." Scuba said. "That's how I realized that we switched jackets."
"Oh okay." Zuma said as Scuba looked at his brother in worry.
"You alright man?" He asked. Zuma just smiled and shook his head.
