The upcoming weeks proved challenging for the four residents of the Loud House. It was as if the forces that govern the universe elected to send a personalized, anguishing plague upon each of them (not counting the plague occurring outside their home).

Lola found herself lonelier than before. The girl's natural desire for attention and care was a burden in a world where her large family was decimated into only two other family members, both of whom were busier now than ever before. The six year old had often snuck glimpses of Lisa's work, trying to find a way to help her… to just talk to her. But the microscopes and equations were too much for her, and the young princess could only pass the time by herself.

Lisa found herself grueling over more work than any toddler should be subjected to. Her days were mostly spent inside, curtains drawn to deny herself the bliss of the sun's golden touch. She could often be found hunched over a blackboard, chalk scribbling the shapes of helices. Otherwise, she was engaged with the Loud House's undead guest.

Ronnie Anne found herself bound in her place, unable to move unless the familiar creatures that appeared before her needed a sample. Her mind didn't interpret information the same way her mind would if she were still human, but anything that has a nervous system knows the feelings of pain, discomfort, confusion and hunger. However, in her dulled state, she could find solace in the sight and smell of a human who seemed a bit more gentle with her than the others. More caring, more affectionate, casting bittersweet smiles in her direction rather than apathetic gazes and disgusted scowls.

Which leads us to the final inhabitant of the Loud House…

Lincoln found himself torn in his duties and responsibilities. He tried to ensure he spent time with Lola to play, but it didn't seem to be enough. He tried to collaborate with Lisa on her work, but his ineptitude at advanced biology left most of the work to her. He tried to make things easy for his girlfriend-but-not-really-because-she-was-just-a-friend-and-now-she's-one-of-Them-so-who-cares-about-labels, but he couldn't make her too comfortable, under the threat that someone could get bitten.

Still, her low whimpers as Lisa roughly jammed her needles into her skin discomforted him.

"Are you sure you have to shove it in that hard? It's a shot, not a sword."

Lisa looked at him with a scowl, but her aggressive stare lifted as she gave a sorrowful sigh. "My apologies, older sibling. I'm simply frustrated with my recent discoveries, but you're right. I have no right to take it out on the test subject."

Lisa's words chilled him. "Lisa, you do remember who she was, right? She was our friend. Not 'the test subject.'"

"Lincoln, let me show you something." Lisa said, ignoring him. She hopped off her bed and began walking towards her desk, Lincoln following her. She reached into her open drawer and started leafing through manila folder after manila folder. After a few seconds of searching, Lisa pulled one out and gave it to her brother, beaming as he scrolled through it. "As you'll see, I have discovered something amazing about the outbreak's orig-"

"Lisa, this is a script for a Blarney fan-episode."

The young scientist's face turned beet-red as she grabbed the folder and stuffed it back. "That's Darcy's, I swear." she mumbled as she grabbed another file and gave it to the young man. Lincoln rolled his eyes playfully before opening it, finding photos of germs and vague, scientific terms written on white sheets of graph paper. Lincoln squinted to read, and found that some terms were written in Latin, not English. "Lisa, what is this?" he asked.

"Going into my studies, I was wondering what it was we were facing exactly," Lisa began explaining, shifting in her place, "After all, a fungal infection would require a different cure than a viral infection. And if this were somehow the work of black magic, I would be completely helpless. But I discovered what exactly this epidemic is."

"What?" Lincoln breathed, his eyes wide with expectation.

"Rabies," Lisa said, anticlimactically.

"Rabies? The thing dogs have? That's it?"

"Not exactly. This viral infection most resembles rabies, but there are traits of other infections that have made this one so much more devastating. Splices of the worst diseases humanity has ever had to endure have been grafted onto this one. Lincoln, do you know what this means?"

Lincoln truthfully shook his head, so Lisa waved the photos frantically before his face. "That means that this disease is not a natural evolution or some act of God. This virus was man-made. Someone, for whatever reason, did this to the human race!"

The young boy's ears rang as the revelation set in. He could feel his entire body vibrating with fear and shock. His stomach growled and swirled, and a queasy feeling overtook him. He didn't know why he was reacting like this; he had always suspected that the apocalypse couldn't have been a natural phenomena, but to hear it be confirmed… to know that the death of Lana, the potential deaths of his entire family, the infection of everyone he knew and loved…

He clenched his fist, grinding his teeth. His sickness was now replaced by vicious anger. "Who?" he asked chillingly.

"Calm down, Lincoln, it's no one you could beat up," Lisa rolled her eyes. "As for who… there are many suspects on my list. It could've been a hostile foreign nation, our own incompetent government, some nebulous mega-corporation… it doesn't matter. What's more important is what this means for working on a cure."

In her corner of the room, Ronnie Anne grumbled softly as she watched, without fully comprehending, the two humans before her talking. Lincoln glanced back with a soft look, before Lisa forced his attention on her again. "The main difference, dear elder sibling, is that natural viruses aren't as well crafted as their synthetic counterparts. It varies from disease to disease, but man-made viruses can be… depending on how advanced the science was used to create this ultra-strand of rabies..."

Lisa softly sighed, before locking eyes with her brother, disappointment and fright welling up in both their eyes. "Lincoln, it could be possible that the scientists working on this have made it incurable."

There was a moment of silence. Lisa tore her eyes away from Lincoln's and stared down at her file, a melancholic aura forming around her small body. She clenched her fists tightly, and the green veins in her tiny hand became visible. Her ears rang as dark, swirling thoughts turned into a vicious cyclone in her head. Why the hell did I tell him? I've disappointed him. I let him down, I let Lola down, I let the human race down. I should've died. I should've gone to the mall and died with our family. At least then no one could've given him false hope, and I could've been with mother and father for the last time…

She could feel her eyes stinging as two thin trails of tears started to fall and stream across her cheeks. "Dang it," the little genius murmured as she lifted her glasses and wiped her wet eyes with her crusted sweater sleeve.

Then she felt a hand softly brush her sleeve away from her face, and through her blurred vision, she saw Lincoln offer her a napkin, a light half-smile formed on his face.

"Hey Lis… I think you've put yourself under a lot of stress. Take a day off. You deserve it."

"No, I don't. And there's no time. Any survivors out there are waiting for me to come up with a cure. I have to..."

"Lisa, I'm proud of you."

The young scientist's immediately stopped babbling, and Lincoln carefully wiped the girl's eyes as she slowed herself down. "Lisa, I'm proud of all the work you've done and how much you care about everyone else. But you have to calm down. Look at you, you're bursting into tears. You don't normally do that."

Lisa opened her mouth to offer a rebuttal, but could only muster a hiccup. Lincoln chuckled as he began running his fingers through her matted, disheveled hair, trying to calm her as Lori and Leni did to him when he was younger. "Take a break. Take a shower. Maybe have a tea party with Lola. You're still a kid, Lisa, and even though I can't give you the safe world I had when I was a toddler… I still want you to have as much fun as you can. Have as many good memories as you can now."

"But what about the human species? I need to work fast..."

"You'll help everyone more if you take some time to yourself. If you just rush out a cure while you're tired and annoyed… you might end up doing more harm than good."

He patted her head, his palm bouncing off her thick brown hair. Lisa gave a little smile. "I suppose you're right, dear elder sibling unit. It has been a while since I had my sweater washed. The color's gone from lime to viridian."

"Yeah, sure," Lincoln scratched his head, wondering if his sister's color knowledge was a genius thing or a girl thing.

Lisa smiled bemusedly at him, and pointed at her papers, scattered across the carpet. "If you don't mind, may I ask you to clean up this mess? And, uh, once I finish washing my clothes and showering… can you make me a peanut butter sandwich?"

Lincoln gave the girl a brotherly smile. "Sure thing, Lis."

"Thank you," she said. She then turned and walked into the hallway, sighing with relief. She could already feel the weight lifting off her shoulders. She knew that she had an Atlantean duty; the duty of restoring humanity to its former glory was as important as the Titan's duty to hold up the sky.

But perhaps allowing Hercules to lift the sky for a day… perhaps that helped Atlas in the long run.

"We don't even have that much peanut butter left in storage," Lincoln said to himself before sighing, "Guess that means no more PB and sauerkraut for the rest of my life."

The boy was on his knees, grabbing at photos and inked papers. He stuffed every page in a folder, only acutely aware of the hushed growling Ronnie Anne was making.

Once he was finished, he turned to Lisa's drawer and stuffed the folder back in. He knew she probably had a system for organizing this stuff, but he shrugged that worry off. She's smart, she'll figure it out, he reasoned.

As his head turned to the side, he found himself staring at Ronnie Anne's profile. The room was dark, with only silvery fluorescent lights hanging above their heads, and the soft glow reflected well off Ronnie Anne's skin. She was still tan, but slightly paler and grayer than before. She wasn't too unattractive, Lincoln realized, though how much of that was his kindness towards his (former) friend and how much was pounding hormones racing through his body… he wasn't sure.

There was one thing about her that hadn't changed. Once Lisa had a chance to clean the young girl's face, Lincoln found that her lips were as red and full as they were before. His eyes were drawn to them, as if they were calling him with their sensuous beauty, and Lincoln smacked his own lips, as if preparing to kiss them from the distance.

Which he never would, of course. Not only because she was one of Them. His mouth was really dry, and his lips were rough and chapped. But more importantly, she was Them. He was Him.

That's what was stopping him, of course.

But nothing stopped him from slowly approaching the zombified young woman. Though, seeing her stuffed and trapped in a coffin, he wondered whether 'mummified' would be a good expression. Her head titled to his direction, and her eyes, previously cold and gray, seemed to lighten up with the beauty of a hazel gemstone.

"H-hey Ronnie Anne," Lincoln whispered. "Just want to know if everything's alright… with you… I mean, I know you can't answer me, but… I don't know, I just want to talk to you."

The white haired boy stepped a little to the side, so that Ronnie Anne didn't have to keep craning her neck. He stood as stiff as a statue, words failing him. What did he want to say to her? Why did he want to say anything to her? It's not like she could even understand…

But there was something in her alertness, her changing attitude when he was around. She seemed hostile to Lisa and Lola, just as any of Them would be, but around Lincoln she was soothed and calm. Lincoln could feel color rushing to his face as he imagined that somehow Ronnie Anne was still in there, and she recognized him…

"I guess our relationship always has to be complicated," Lincoln chuckled. He scratched his cheek with an untrimmed fingernail. "This is us, I guess."

One of the curses of life is the inability for people to usually be able to decipher their own emotions. Feelings were a complicated mess, regardless of who you asked. Lisa would say they were a complex set of hormonal matrices intersecting through the brain, and Lola would say they were beautiful expressions that came from the heart, but both agreed on their complexity. So now, as Lincoln stared at this flesh-eating girl, he really wished he knew how he felt.

Was the sweat coming off his brow awkward nervous or Darwinian instinct?

Was the shiver down his spine typical love-shyness or a fight-or-flight response?

Was the pounding in his heart… was the pounding in his heart love or fear?

Lori could've told him. Too bad she wasn't around.

Lincoln allowed himself a little closer to Ronnie Anne, and leaned in slowly, until he found her nose rubbing against his. "Sorry," he nervously giggled. She exhaled in response, and her temperate breath washed over his face. He stepped back and coughed; she, understandably, had pretty bad breath. But it was the thought that counted…?

Of course, that was even if she could still think. And even if she could, why would she like him, out of all people? To her, he was probably nothing but a giant steak buffet, and Lincoln knew that it surprisingly easy to not fall in love with your food.

"Just face it, Lincoln, the Ronnie Anne you knew isn't coming back," he grumbled to himself sadly. But even as he turned to leave the room, he was staring directly into her eyes until the door was finally shut.

The next day, on the front lawn, a small horde of Them passed by the house. When the dust cleared, only three of Them remained; a blonde woman dragged her bloodied intestines along the ground, a young brunette with maggots digging into her empty eye socket, and a thin man with an ashen complexion who would've looked completely normal were it not for his missing arm. At this point, Lincoln had enough of sniping on the roof; instead, much to the protests of Lisa, he stepped out of the house with a frying pan in one hand and a shotgun in the other, and started banging the pan against one of the wooden beams on the porch. "Hey, leg draggers!" he yelled. As the three turned to face him, they bared their teeth and snarled.

Lincoln threw the pan to the side and took aim with his shotgun. He pointed it at the eyeless one and pulled the trigger. A loud BANG echoed through the streets, and the recoil knocked Lincoln off his feet.

"Forgot I had to be careful about that," he groaned as he picked himself up and blasted the other two. The three gorey explosions of bone, muscle and sinew were followed by three thuds as the monsters hit the ground, puddles of blood and pus watering the concrete.

"Lincoln, please do not use such hateful slurs as you shoot at Them. They might complain to their civil society," Lisa joked with a thin smile.

Lincoln chuckled as he put his weapon back on safety, but his laughter stopped when he noticed the serious look on Lisa's face. The genius started scratching her chin as her eyes darted between each of the three bodies before them. "They're growing bolder," she said chillingly.

"How so?"

"They've been getting closer to the house lately, and in larger packs too. And Lola complained to me earlier this morning that, as she was trying to sleep last night, she could hear thuds against the living room window."

"Are you sure she wasn't… you know, imagining things?"

"I was not imagining things," Lola angrily spat as she walked out onto the porch next to her siblings. "I know what I heard. There was something banging on the window."

"I am inclined to believe our sister. As such, I plan to take steps to ensure our safety and survival throughout the night."

"And how are you going to do that? Make me stay up all day and night on patrol?" Lincoln rolled his eyes.

"No. I believe it's time I shift my priorities, and we all return to our only safe place."

Lisa sighed, a tsunami of disappointment crashing over her. "I think we should relocate to the bunker for good. The amount of time and resources it would take to find a cure can be better spent keeping us safe, and truthfully my findings do not even encourage the idea that there is a cure at all. As such, nothing is keeping us in the house, and all it brings is risk."

"But we can't move back down there!" Lola protested. "It's so cramped, and my clothes get so dirty and sweaty..."

"You of all people should like this. You'll be safe from the monsters you're so scared of. And there's food and enough entertainment to keep us from going insane. I've even taken the liberty of storing Lucy's DVD collection of her vampire show, and even a few board games..."

"Oh joy, board games for the rest of our lives," Lola sarcastically quipped.

"Would you rather have Them make board games from our bones?" Lisa snapped back.

Lola scowled at her little sister, before turning to Lincoln. She fluttered her long eyelashes and put on irresistible puppy dog eyes. "Linky, please tell her that I'm right and she's wrong~" she cooed to him.

"Actually, your opinion is important to me, older brother. So please… let Lola know how she selfish she's being by putting our lives in danger just so that she can have tea parties with stuffed unicorns."

"Why, you!" Lola pounced on the four year old and the two began brawling with each other, fists flying and legs kicking. Lincoln would've separated them if he hadn't been so deeply entrenched in his own thoughts.

"Hey Lis," he said quietly, causing his two younger sisters to stop fighting temporarily, "If we move out of the house and back into the bunker… what'll happen to Ronnie Anne?"

"Moving back into the bunker will be the official end of my research, for the reasons I mentioned before. We won't have enough room down there, and I'd rather not waste any food on a lost cause like her. If we do move down there, I shall have no further use for her, so we can either let her go or shoot her in the head. Whatever we feel like," Lisa said bluntly.

"NO! I mean- no. I don't want that to happen. Are you really sure there's no cure?"

"The unknown party that developed this virus could have made sure there was no breaking it down and finding a cure. There may or may not be, but right now I just want to keep my family alive," Lisa insisted.

"Lisa, you promised."

"I promised I'd try."

"Well… I'm going to stay up here," Lincoln said with a nod.

"For God's sake, Lincoln… Ronnie Anne's one of Them. Why are you so obsessed with her? It's almost as if… oh, sweet Tupac's ghost, you can't have..."

"Wh-what? I couldn't have what?"

"Lincoln… have you fallen in love with the zombified Ronnie Anne?"

"What? That's ridiculous, Lisa," Lincoln insisted. He could feel his face growing warmer and prickly heat breaking out all over his body from the embarrassment. He pointed a sturdy finger at her, giving her the first look of actual anger since the apocalypse began. "I don't want you to ever say that again. I know that Ronnie Anne is… I could never be… fuck!"

The young man marched inside, leaving Lisa and Lola on the porch, both breathing heavily. The intellectual turned to look at Lola and gave her a cold look of spite. "Congratulations, older sister. We get to stay in the house."

She turned away from Lola with a snarl, leaving her alone, her mind buzzing with realizations and thoughts.

Lincoln's… is Lincoln falling for…?

She couldn't finish the thought without a gag building up in back of her throat. Instead, she decided to push it out of her mind and step inside, closing the door behind her, sloppily shoving the lock into its place before collapsing on the ground, huffing and wheezing with fright. She tried to close her eyes to calm herself, but instead all she could see in the dark void of her closed eyes was Lana being chased by a giant horde of limbs and hungry mouths.

Lola couldn't tell if it was her or Lana that was screaming.

"Lincoln, I came to apologi- wait, where are you?

"Down the hall," Lisa heard coming from what was formerly Lynn and Lucy's room. Lisa rolled her eyes as she stopped banging on Lincoln's door and went down to the open room. When she entered, she was greeted by Ronnie Anne angrily growling at her, trying to shake off her binds. She ignored her, and looked at Lynn's bed, where Lincoln was laying with his arms crossed, looking up at the ceiling with an intense look. He looked like he was ready to shoot laser beams out of his eyes.

"So… what is this exactly? Are you going to be sleeping here now?"

"I don't see why not. My bed was feeling lumpy anyways."

"Okay, Lincoln, I truly do apologize. I shouldn't have been so cold and suggested we shoot Ronnie Anne in the head. If we go down to the bunker, I promise that all I'll do is set her free. No harm, no foul."

"It's not just about that, Lisa," Lincoln huffed, his expression softening slightly.

"May I… may I inquire as to what you mean?"

"You may, I guess," Lincoln said unenthusiastically. He rose off his back and sat by the edge of his bed, casting Lisa a downtrodden look. His eyes were sad and weary, and his messy hair added to the look of a boy that was on the edge.

"I know I seem really attached to her and… I know she's just a part of Their group now. The Ronnie Anne I was friends with before is gone. Maybe forever, if you're right about there not being a cure. But, Lisa, you have to understand… she's basically all I have of my old life. You and Lola too. I don't want to lose any of you. Like I… like I lost everyone else."

He sniffled lightly, and he reached up to wipe his nose with his thumb. "Clyde is gone. Stella is gone. Girl Jordan is gone. Mollie is gone. Zach, Liam, Rusty… all gone. Charles is gone, and so is Cliff and Walt and Geo. And our family… Lisa, we already had to bury Lana. Who knows where everyone else is? Can you really blame me for trying to hold on to the few things I have to remind me of when I didn't have to fight for my fucking life every day?!"

The boy was shivering now, the sounds of gunfire filling his ears and the fallen bodies dropping in front of his eyes. Why was he even shooting at people? He was eleven. Eleven! And at eleven years old, he had taken more lives than some serial killers. Sure, they were Them, but they were people once. People who'll never come back, from those three he shot outside to his first kill... when one of Them broke into the basement, climbed up the stairs, chased Lisa into a corner, and forced Lincoln to grab a knife and sink it deep into its spine to save his sister…

A tiny pair of hands wrapped around the boy's waist, and hugged him tightly. Lisa's smooth cheek pressed against the young man's body, and she could feel his heartbeat slowly go down. Lincoln let out a final shaking sigh, relieving his nerves. He reached over to wrap his arm around Lisa, his trembling fingers rubbing her arm. "Thanks," he simply said.

"Don't mention it," Lisa responded.

The siblings pulled apart, and Lisa hopped off the bed and onto the ground. She glanced back at Ronnie Anne, whose foggy eyes were staring at Lincoln with an expression written on her face. If Lisa didn't know any better, she'd say it was sympathy.

"We'll stay here. In the house. And I'll do my best to return to my research. If there really is no chance for a cure, I want to be able to confirm it beyond a shadow of a doubt. After all, man didn't simply look at the moon and decide they'd never reach there, so they shouldn't try."

A thin, humoured smile stretched on Lincoln's lips. "I guess not. And about me sleeping here..."

"Sleep wherever. I might try to sleep in Luna and Luan's room myself. I always wanted to try bunk beds."

Lisa turned and started walking out of the room, before reaching up to flick the lights off. "Maybe you should sleep early, older brother. You've had a tiring day, you've earned a nap."

"But what if more of Them show up?"

"Then I'm sure Lola will not hesitate to disturb your sleep," Lisa smiled. "Good night, Lincoln."

The snow haired boy yawned, flipping back onto the bed and stretching. "Good night, Lisa," he softly murmured. He felt his eyelids drop, as if weighed down by rocks, and let himself go to sleep, Ronnie Anne's soft hum bringing him an odd sense of comfort.

His eyes shot open. Something was off about the room.

He turned away from the wall as he sensed a presence behind him. Even before his eyes had time to adjust to the dark, he noticed two small lights hovering over his head, a dim shade of brownish green.

Eyes.

He shot out of bed and tore the nearby curtain, allowing bright moonlight to flood the room. "Alright, Lisa, what the he-"

It wasn't Lisa.

The shimmering silvery light spilled onto the frame of a young girl. Her head titled towards him, and Lincoln found himself staring into her beautiful hazel eyes. She was biting lightly on her bottom lip, and her hands were planted firmly at her sides.

It was Ronnie Anne. She had been watching him sleep.

Lincoln's first instinct was to panic. All his usual conflicting feelings about Ronnie Anne fell to the side as he was gripped by survival instinct. How did she break free? Lincoln thought to himself, his eyes darting around the room in search of a weapon. How long was she watching me? Come to think of it… why didn't she just bite me?

"Huh… why didn't you bite me?" Lincoln muttered, more to himself than to her. The notion that Ronnie Anne had simply watched him rest was unsettling, but knowing that she could've bit and infected him and chose not to for whatever reason… that seemed to calm the adrenaline-driven boy down. He relaxed his posture, and took one careful step towards the zombie. She let out a guttural sound, making him flinch, but she didn't seem hostile at all. He slowly let himself sit back down on his bed. He clutched Lynn's red blanket, ready to throw it on her at a moment's notice. His eyes were sharp and his breathing was ragged as the two humanoids stared each other down.

"I guess… I guess if you were going to attack, you would've done it way before I woke up."

She took a step towards him, making him flinch again, but he wasn't as fearful as before. She took another step, and then another, and then another, until she was standing right next to the boy's side. Her swaying hand tapped his arm, and Lincoln rubbed it with a smile. "Even infected, you like to punch my arm, huh? I have to say it hurt way more before. You really lost your touch."

Another growl.

"That's fine," Lincoln said. "Better a light tap than a punch… or a bite."

He felt his defensive grip on the blanket loosen the more he kept talking. "You know, my sisters have this crazy idea. They think that I… I'm in love with you or something." He let out a hoarse laugh when he said it; it sounded so ridiculous out loud. "I mean I wasn't even in love with you as a human. Why would I start falling for you now?"

His laughter died down as he was suddenly struck by memories. "Well… I guess maybe that isn't accurate. Not completely. There were times that I thought that, I don't know, we were closer than friends. Maybe not lovers, but more than friends. I… I wonder if we could have been… or maybe we were and I'm just lying to myself..."

The feral girl was silent, simply observing. Lincoln felt safe around her, but at the same time he could still recognize a predatory glint in her eyes. "Is that… is that maybe why you're not attacking me? Do you somehow remember me? Do you remember how we were friends-but-not-really and in-love-but-not-really?"

No answer from the silent specter. Lincoln stood up from the bed and stepped closer to Ronnie Anne, maintaining eye contact with her. Just like their relationship, her entire form was a masked contradiction, a blend of feminine beauty and sweetness mixed with a monstrous danger and strength. It was most evident in her eyes; the eyes of carnivore, but when bathed in moonlight revealed hints of the tough, emotional, strong, caring, confrontational, playful, loving girl that she had once been. The girl that she could be again, one day. The girl that… maybe she still was, right now.

He decided to take a risk. His hand traveled towards her face, slowly and steadily. She hissed once, forcing Lincoln to draw his hand back, but that drew a whimper from the undead pre-teen. Eventually his hand reached her face, and he cupped her cheek within his palm. His warm hand was cooled by her cold skin. "You look just like you did as a human," Lincoln said truthfully. Her cheek was slightly rougher and clammier than before, but it still felt like her. She still looked like the Ronnie Anne he had always known. If Lincoln were just a little stupider, he might've even tried to kiss her.

Lincoln bemoaned the fact that he wasn't stupider.

"I know you might not be able to understand me, but I want to think you do. And if you do, I just want to say something to you I never could when you were human. Ronnie Anne… I love y-"

CRASH!

Lincoln jumped when he heard the loud noise coming from downstairs, while Ronnie Anne seemed unfazed. He rushed towards the door and threw it open, rushing towards the stairs and looking down at the window.

It was broken. Gleaming glass shards were scattered on the ground, covering the carpet and curtains. But that wasn't what horrified Lincoln the most. What horrified him the most was the roaring revenant crawling in through the hole in the window, and behind it Lincoln could see a whole horde of Them standing, waiting to follow their leader.

"No, no, no, no," Lincoln repeated in horror.

"Lincoln, what was that sound?" Lincoln heard someone ask. His head turned to see Lisa and Lola rush out towards him, worry written on both of their faces. Lola looked down and saw the horde streaming into their den, and she let out a terrified scream.

"They've broken in. I didn't think they actually would," Lincoln said.

The first of Them sniffed the air menacingly, before its cold eyes turned in the direction of the three siblings up the stairs. It let out a loud, anguished call, and started shambling up the stairs.

"Lisa, get me a gun. NOW!" Lincoln screamed. Lisa nodded and rushed to her room, grabbing every firearm she could find. Her small hands couldn't carry as many as she hoped, and she cursed herself for her biology. Mother Nature, you are INCOMPETENT!

"Okay, you two, stay behind me. And close that door, Ronnie Anne got loose," Lincoln barked orders.

"She's loose?!" Lola yelled.

"It doesn't matter right now. Right now, there's too many of them for me to fight. We're going to have to run for it. I'll shoot the ones coming up the stairs, and then we'll make a break for the kitchen door and the yard."

"What about Ronnie Anne? And my research?" Lisa asked.

"We'll come back for her later. She'll be fine, They usually don't attack Their own kind."

With trembling hands, Lincoln took a small handgun and loaded it with a few bullets. He took aim at the beast crawling up the stairs towards them, and muttered "Close your eyes," to his two younger sisters. Neither of them did; Lisa was used to it, and Lola was curious.

A loud gunshot echoed through their home as Lincoln pulled the trigger and the snarling zombie fell back on to the ground floor, its shoulder spewing contaminated blood over the carpet. It shook, still alive, but another one of Them stepped on its head trying to reach the siblings and it stopped moving.

Lincoln shot again, and this time gasped as his ears started to ring. Lola hunched over as well, screaming and clutching her sensitive ears in pain. The echoes of the bullet, especially in such a closed space, were too much for her to handle, and it took Lisa patting both of them to get them moving.

The trio rushed down the stairs, stepping on the two corpses. Lola tried her best to tiptoe around the puddle of blood, making a queasy face as she stared at it, but Lisa shoved her forward, and the young girl's slippers splashed in the red liquid. "Oh, gross," she complained, but she didn't stop moving. She was running for her life, after all.

Just like Lana…

Lola stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening and chest heaving as she remembered the nightmarish scene of her twin running and screaming as packs of Them hunted her. A cold sweat broke out as she remembered Lana shuddering and vomiting as she slowly died, her twin watching and unable to help her. She stared moving again when Lisa shoved her from behind, and screamed "LOLA, MOVE!" in a voice much more panicked and emotional than her usual deadpan.

But it was too late.

As Lisa was stopped by Lola's flashback, an aggressive walker had reached for the four year old. It grabbed her by the leg and pulled her towards her, baring its rotted teeth with an insane grin.

"BROTHER!" Lisa yelled. Lincoln turned and, with only milliseconds to spare, aimed at the body of the cannibal and shot as many rounds as his weapon would allow. Blood burst like a geyser as it fell on top of Lisa, who was pulled out by Lola. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry," the blonde repeated over and over, tears dripping from her blue eyes.

The siblings made it into the kitchen, and Lincoln rushed towards the door, his arm flailing as he reached to open it. He erupted into smiles as he threw the front door open…

Only to be greeted by another pack of Them.

All licking their scarred lips as three morsels presented themselves.

With a hoarse cry of "FUCK!" Lincoln slammed the door and turned to his two sisters with hopeless eyes. "There's no way out," he muttered in a hushed voice.

"No… no, no, no, there has to be. I don't want to die," Lola whimpered, clutching herself in fear. Lincoln rushed closer to his two sisters, a frantic expression etched on his face.

"Calm down, Lols, we're not going to die, okay? Just calm down," he tried to reassure her. "Remember; I'm your knight. I'm going to keep you safe..."

"We may not be in a position to entertain such chivalric fantasies."

Lisa's despondent voice cut through Lola's terrified whimpers and Lincoln's emotional babbling. She was gazing at the ground, her eyes hidden behind the dark shadows of her glasses. She looked up at Lincoln and Lola, and grit her teeth with frustration. "We may have to accept that… if there is even remotely a chance of us surviving this onslaught… we can't simply rely on our elder brother, Lola."

"Come on, Lis, you don't have to..."

"For God's sake, Lincoln, we're about to die. Drop the superhero act," she hissed. She then extended her arm towards him, opening her hand. "Give me the gun in your pocket, Lincoln. And please hand Lola a knife from the counter."

"Lisa, please..."

"Lincoln, I'm not doing this so that I can survive. I'm doing this because if you fight alone, you will die for sure. At least this way I can imagine you and Lola surviving. Please."

Her voice was begging and warbled, on the verge of breaking down and crying. She kept herself together with the fortitude no other child had, and she once again beckoned for him to hand her a weapon. Lincoln reluctantly nodded, and placed the gun in her hand. He then reached over the counter and grabbed a long, thin knife, slightly smudged with peanut butter, and gave it to Lola. With trembling hands, she took it from him, and kissed her brother for what she was sure was the last time. "I love you, Linky."

"I love you too, Lola."

"I love you, Lisa," Lola told her sister as she turned to face her.

"I love you both as well, elder siblings. Whatever the outcome is today… may we make the Loud family name proud."

Lola gripped her knife tightly. The image of Lana's grave in the backyard gave her strength, and she growled angrily. "This is for Lana," she muttered.

With a battle cry that reverberated through the Loud House, Lincoln, Lola and Lisa rushed at the demonic horde.

And after that, everything was a frenzied blur.

There was a chilling air blowing across his face. Lincoln's eyelids slowly opened, and he rubbed the side of his face, sticky blooding coating his fingers with every rub. God… I must've hit my head…

He heard a low growl, and his head immediately turned to find two rotting eyesockets staring at him. He cried out and jumped back, reaching for anything to protect him from the rabid monster before him. It snapped its teeth at him, and Lincoln reached for a piece of the cracked floor, and with a heaving groan tossed it at its head.

The zombie roared as it fell to the ground, its ear flying off and sliding across the floor.

Once Lincoln was sure it was down, he immediately called out "LOLA! LISA!" into the house. He looked around, and all over the ground were the bodies of their enemies. Lincoln jumped over them as he ran around, looking for his younger sisters. "LOLA!" he called into the basement, before turning to the stairs. "LISA!" he screamed desperately as he climbed up the flight of stairs.

His head checked both ways in the hallway, and he noticed a thick trail of blood leading into the bathroom. "No… please no..." he silently begged as he ran towards the bathroom, hoping to find Lisa and Lola alive, tending to their injuries…

Unfortunately, hope can sometimes be misleading.

He tore open the door, and heard a faint cough. "Li-Linky?" he heard Lola say his name, her voice weak and trembling. She was lying on the ground, back pressed against the wall, and covered in blood that belonged to her and others. Her stomach was slightly torn, and the young girl was pressing a soft napkin against the cut.

"Oh no, Lola..."

"Linky..." Lola repeated, her eyes spilling with tears. "Lisa's dead. They killed her downstairs and slammed your head into the wall… I thought you were dead too… I thought you both left me..."

"I'm here, Lola. I'm here," he rushed to her side, getting down on one knee and grabbing the tissue from her. "D-d-don't worry, your big bro is here… your knight in shining armor, r-remember?"

"Oh, Lincoln," she chuckled weakly, slowly reaching to touch her brother's face. "I don't have a lot of time, so please let me say what I need to."

"Lola, don't say that. You're going to be fine, trust me. I'll… I'll..."

"Lincoln, I'm too weak to slap you, so just shut yourself up. I really need to tal-"

She coughed viciously, particles of blood flying from her mouth. She gently set her head back against the wall, and licked her shredded lips before she said "Lincoln, I d-don't have much time. There's no changing that, so I want to at least die dignified. L-like a princess would. So… I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"What? Lola, no, it isn't."

"It is. If we had just listened to Lisa, we wouldn't have been attacked. It's my fault I argued against her. It's my fault… that she's dead..."

She wiped her nose with her wrist, apathetic to the snot and boogers that now coated her arm. The image of her dead sister made her want to break down and cry until she finally passed, but she needed to talk to her brother. "I'm just glad you're okay. I thought I would die alone, but seeing you here… I love you, Lincoln."

Lincoln's lip trembled. "I love you too, Lola," he whispered in a hushed voice.

The young blonde's eyes were beginning to fog up, and she lifted her gaze towards the ceiling. The bright lights above shone into her irises, and she smiled with bliss. "I can see Lana, Linky. I can see Lynn and Lori and Lily… and I can see Lana. They want me to go with them, Linky. Should I?"

Lincoln couldn't answer. His throat was burning, and he couldn't move his lips to answer the young girl's question. Instead, he pressed them them her cheek, and rubbed his sister's back slowly and gently, feeling Lola's heartbeat get slower and slower with every passing second.

Until it beat no more.

He kissed her again, and then rose, walking slowly out of the bathroom. He made it into the hallway, then allowed himself to collapse onto his arms and knees.

And then he started screaming.

He only stopped when he heard a light pair of footsteps approaching. He lifted his head, and his eyes slowly traveled along the length of a female body. A familiar female body, wrapped in purple garb.

Ronnie Anne stared down at him, her eyes confused but worried.

"At least you're still here," Lincoln said sadly as he rose off the ground. He threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly as he began crying into her shoulder. His whole body trembled, and her body trembled with him, but the undead girl was otherwise motionless as he cried into their embrace. She didn't growl or attempt to bite; she simply let him cry.

"Ronnie Anne, please, do me a favor. I'm begging you," he pleaded, sticking his arm towards her mouth. "Bite me, please. I can't take this. I don't have anything left."

To his surprise, she pushed his arm away, and titled her head to the side.

"Ronnie Anne, please, I'm begging you."

To his eternal shock, she seemed to shake her head. She was refusing to bite him, and Lincoln had no idea why. All he could do was grab Ronnie Anne by her cheeks, and stare deep into her eyes, his lips whimpering. "Please."

For a moment, she seemed stunned. Her jaw unhinged slightly, and her eyes seemed to widen with a mix of fear and hunger. Perhaps those closer to death can understand the dead better, Lincoln realized, as he found he could easily read her emotions and facial patterns. She wanted to bite him, she wanted to infect him, but at the same time… he could tell there was something in there keeping him from doing so.

His lips curled into a warm, friendly smile, and he stepped back from her. He couldn't communicate with her in words, so instead he let his face tell her of the pain and sorrow he was feeling. He extended his arm one more time, and let his sadness seep in an outpour.

"Just do it."

His eyes were teary, and his face was that of a broken man. A man that had lost everything. It was the look of someone who would take the greatest leap of faith in the world, because they had nothing to lose anymore. The look of someone that had everything taken away.

Ronnie Anne saw this, and with an anguished growl, let herself do what she needed to.

Lincoln offered no resistance as a pair of rough hands grabbed him tightly. The calloused skin of the zombie rubbed against his smoother skin, and the ghoul bent downwards. A maw of sharp teeth opened, and the zombie bit into his flesh, slowly and softly.

Lincoln hissed and grit his teeth as pain filled his arm. He gazed upwards at the ceiling, sighing. He had heard that just before death, a person's life plays right before their very eyes.

And as the infection coursed through his bloodstream, he remembered it all.

The process was quick. Thin lines of green blotched his skin, and traveled across his body, coloring his flesh with sickly spots. Ronnie Anne gave him a bittersweet look as he smiled at her, feeling the bumps appear along his muscular system. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but a burning sensation kept him from speaking. He convulsed and shook and fell to the ground as the virus reached his brain.

And then he rose.

He was still shaking slightly as he noticed the world in a new vision. There was a greenish tint, and many of Lincoln's memories had been wiped, not that he noticed. His first camping trip… him meeting Clyde… all the high-scores he racked up in the arcade were gone. His new zombified biology erased it all.

Well, not all of it… deep in the recess of his dying memory, the image of the loving, smiling face of a familiar young woman warmed his cooling body.

He turned to look at Ronnie Anne, whose eyes were brimming with burning tears.

"Hey Lame-O," she said softly. "What took you so long?"

This story was inspired by a game called "I Saw Her Standing There." I highly recommend you play it for yourself. There were plenty of other influences (other zombie media, stories in this archive, etc.) but that one is the biggest influencer.

As always, thank you for reading.