#zombies!

Zombies. Middle Earth has zombies.

And when would be a better time for zombies to roam around than after Nirnaeth Arnoediad? Even more after Second and Third Kinslaying. You know who would have a perfect opportunity to fight zombies to the point of habit? Fëanorians.

So I imagined the situation where Maedhros and Maglor fight some zombies, successfully turning them into parts (I mean, duh). Then Maedhros says something self-hating like "Surely there's more good to them than was left of us(me) as it hunts and hurts without consent, intent nor will, unlike us(me)."

And Maglor looks at him, then at the zombie's head he holds. He reaps the skull open (with his hands, yes), takes zombies' brain out, and throws it at Maedhros with "We also have an evidence he had a brain, unlike some brother of mine."

Scarlet was thankful for her horse being as strong as she was, behind her she pulled an old abandoned hitch trailer which Scarlet had packed with only the essentials for survival, knowing it was best to keep on the move than stay in one area too long with the dead walking around. Luckily they showed no interest in animals which, so far, had been something the redhead had used to her advantage, keeping herself hidden from sight under a blanket on the back of her horse, stained in zombie blood which helped cover her human scent as they slowly made their way around from area to area.

Her previous stop had been at a small encampment she'd stumbled upon, it was effectively a makeshift gunshow where traders brought their weapons and other things to sell and trade. Scarlet had managed to stock up while there, though she didn't want to stick around more than one night and now she was on the move once more.

Yes, the government is useless. Yes, there’s a fuckload of people in a crammed tiny island infecting each other at an insane rate. Yes, those two together makes the UK the first nation to be under martial law because of the crisis, immediately bringing everything into chaos. No, there are no guns available practically anywhere so getting rid of the infected is a headache. However, Matt immediately has a destination in mind so he’s got that going on for himself, which is nice.

Getting to Winchester from Manchester is a headache. The motorway is blocked from all the angles, and although almost hilariously Matt thinks that people may have turned into better drivers after not following any road rules, the hilariousness stops once he has to stab a walking dead on the jugular while it tries to climb into his car.

Their blood stinks, and the smell is now stuck on his driver's seat.

The rest of the road trip, Matt takes the side roads. Technically that should mean it will take him longer. Practically he’s not stuck still in an arguably moving prison, being a target to both the desperate non-infected as well as the zombies. 

When he finally sees the graffiti’d but still standing fences of Wammy’s house, he downs his saved celebratory warm beer (from the safety of his car, thank you very much) in one go before sprinting to the main gate, crossing his fingers that the door code is both a) working and b) still the same than it was when he last hacked into the Wammy’s online system.