|Dawn of the Dead: #69 - "Thunder"
||[Oct. 27th, 2005|09:26 pm]
La Belle Voix
Fandom: Dawn of the Dead (2004)
Prompt: #69 - Thunder
Word Count: 531
Rating: PG/PG-13, I suppose.
Author's Notes: I actually sort of like this one, despite the fact that it was written late at night when I very well should have been asleep. Major spoilers if you haven't seen the 2004 version of Dawn of the Dead.
Word Prompt Table
Michael had always been afraid of thunder. The lightning was bad enough, as it lit up his room at random moments, illuminating the cowboy decorations and various toys scattered around his room, casting an eery glow through his brown and yellow curtains. He would wait, hugging his toys to him (Trigger the Horse and Wayne the Bear) and burrowing deep beneath the covers of his bed until the thunder cracked outside, making him jump and his little heart race. When he was small enough, he would dart out of bed, Wayne clutched tightly to his chest, and hurtle himself into his parents' bed. When he became too old to sleep with toys and hide between his mom and dad, he would hold the covers over his nose, watching with wide eyes as the lightning turned his chair into an unspeakable monster. Even as an adult, he still felt his heart race and his palms sweat during storms.
The first time he shot a gun, he felt that same fear rising in him at the sound. His aim had been off-he hadn't hit the head-but there were more coming and the kid was making quick work of the ones nearest to them. He'd shot again, this time hitting his mark. It was much different than shoving a broken croquette stick through the lower jaw.
Michael had always pretended to be a cowboy when he was little, saying things he never meant. He was never a violent person, but when they realised exactly what was making those things, he felt a strong urge to protect. And when he'd heard that man had been bitten, he hadn't bothered to question who he was. All he could see was those creatures running the streets outside and the idea of having one inside, where they had fought so hard to keep everyone safe, had been enough to spring him into action. Anna had looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and disgust and the gun burned in his hand.
By the time he reached the man and his daughter, he felt only nausea.
He had been a dad once.
When one of them finally bit him, he was not surprised. Three failed marriages and a slew of shitty jobs had prepared him for the worst in any situation. But somehow, he had thought this might be different. They had been so close to the end and being with Anna had made him so happy.
She had tried to convince him he could help him and he thought it was almost sweet; the nurse trying to save her cowboy.
He'd always wanted to be a cowboy.
There was no fear as he pressed the barrel of the gun beneath his chin, his eyes glued to Anna as the boat began to slide away from the dock. Behind him, he heard the creatures make their way towards him and he closed his eyes, holding the image of her in his mind as he pulled the trigger.
He thought it funny that his greatest fear was now bringing him his greatest comfort.
In fact, he barely heard the thunder of the gun.
And it doesn't hurt that much.