Raise A Little Hell

The Beginning

Okay, first off I just wanna start by saying I apologize for starting so many damn stories and not finishing them. I will finish them... I just get new obsessions, like this one!

So, from the summary, you can tell that this is a Warm Bodies fanfiction where R encounters someone else i stead of Julie. I thought it'd be fun to add an OC. So for this story, I'd love to take suggestion on how Tatum progresses throughout the story. Also, you may notice that her brothers closely resemble Dean and Sam from Supernatural... I may have done that on purpose. So I guess it's a slight crossover... Anyways all the encounters will be much different then when R was with Julie, so I can make this much more exciting and play with it. Tatum and R will have a similar relationship though. Anyways... I hope you enjoy. Let me know your thoughts and review below.

ALSO: YOU DON'T NEED TO SEE THE MOVIE OR READ THE BOOK TO UNDERSTAND :) So those of my followers who have read my other stories, feel free to start this one and not miss out!

Isaac Marion is responsible for this brilliant idea. I guess Eric Kripke is responsible for Sam and Dean, her bro's.

There were two types of zombies, in this world. Why am I referring to as it different world? It's the exact same one; only 75% of the population had been wiped out by The Disease. There was no name for it. Scientists didn't have the chance to name the virus that had killed my father. It moved too fast.

Anyways, what was I saying?

Right.

The zombies. There was a distinct divide between two. There were the corpses, or the dead, that were just plain old zombies. Your average brain-gnawing horror-flick, walking-dead type deceased; with the sucken eyes, the rotten teeth, the groaning and moaning. The others were worse. Much, much worse. Not only had they lost their minds, but their bodies too. I literally mean they lost their bodies. All that was left of them were skeletons. Boney's, we called them. Instead of the moans and groans, they let out bloodcurdling screams and hisses. Their bodies were covered in dirt and mold. Their faces had black tar-like liquid. Their insides folded out of them, some of them dragging along their own remains as they chased after The Living.

The one currently chasing my ass were the Boneys. Their skinny asses chased me to the border of the concrete parkade of the abandoned hospital.

My squad was supposed to go on a med-run. I was always the leader whenever we went on scavenging sprees. I was in charge of the newbies, the veterans. It was all teens around my age, 20, that went for forages.

I had made a bad call.

A terrible one, if that.

I fucked up, for lack of better words.

We needed antibiotics, medications, bandages, crutches, etc., We were running scarcely low. One of the two pains in my ass, which were most commonly referred to as brothers, forced me to take a group of newbies out. They were extremely undertrained, and we were extremely understaffed. There were only six of us.

I should have made the call to turn around after we hit the first hospital. It was the closest one to what we called 'home'. We had been there too often that we had already salvaged most of the useable supplies.

When one of the boys, Martin I think his name was, suggested hitting up the next hospital a few miles away, I couldn't resist. There had been an accident last week. A few soldiers out to kill had been caught in an explosion. They were badly mangled, and we had to make the decision whether or not to go back, or go find supplies for them.

I had to make the call.

And I chose to.

We only ran into a few corpses along the way, ones that were easily killed with non-fire arm weapons. The noise of a gun going off tended to attract them; it signaled food nearby.