Tom Hiddleston's One-shots (500 words or less)

The Darkest Hour is Just Before the Dawn

A/N: The second of the three drabbles I wrote in a row some time ago.  My first time writing something darker.  Enjoy! 

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You thought it was just another tasteless joke from your geeky neighbour when he started grunting and dragging his feet towards you, until you heard a shrill scream from another apartment down the corridor, and then a gunshot from a floor above made you jump.

Your feet reacted before your brain could think. They started running down the stairs so fast that your hand was having a hard time catching up with them, with it trying to keep your balance by sweeping and grabbing the handrail. You almost missed your step when you saw a tall, slim man hurrying through his door into his apartment when you reached the 4th floor.

"Oh my god...wait!" The door almost slammed right in your face but you kept it open by shoving your foot between the crack. You didn't give any chance for the guy to recover from his shock, you just fired the words out from your mouth, "My neighbour tried to eat me, can I stay with you?"

Strangely he didn't even flinch at your words. He inspected you up and down, "Are you injured?"

"No, but –"

"Get in." He hauled you inside immediately. You were almost sure he'd reject you since you're not injured and therefore didn't need any help.

You stumbled into the living room, as he bolted the door shut.

You panted, "What's going on?"

"Shh!" He's peering through the peephole, while keeping his hands off the door, not wanting to make any noises that would attract unwanted attention. You couldn't help but hold your breath, frozen in the middle of the stranger's apartment.

After what felt like an eternity, he whispered, jerking his head at the dining table. "Hey, help me out."

You spent the rest of the evening watching muted news on TV, which told you nothing but this thing was getting global. The only comfort you found was from Tom, the stranger who had taken you in. Something was off about him though. He was kind but almost too kind – he gave you a tour around the humble apartment and explained stuff to you as if you were to stay there for a very long time. "Eat the perishable first. Save the cans for later." "You'll never know when they'll stop the water so always keep the buckets and tub filled." "Here, take my spare gun. Trust nobody."

That night, he insisted you sleep in his room with the door locked, when he kept watch in the living room even though he's looking paler and paler by the hour.

"Keep your gun with you...always." He whispered as if those were his last words, hugged you, and closed the door.

You didn't dare to sleep at all that night.

Your fist muffled your whimpering when you were reading a note that Tom had slipped in through the gap under the door.

You stayed wide awake for hours, until you heard a quiet, lonely gunshot from the direction of his storage room just before sunrise.