Crossdressing To Survive An Apocalypse [BL]

Skyy froze in place, his chest heaving. His gaze locked on the intruder—a man who slid into the room with the predatory ease of a hunter. A gun glinted in his hand, his grin oozing with malice.

"Little bunny," the man sneered, his voice low and teasing, "you can't run very far. Oh~ looks like you led us exactly where we wanted." His eyes shifted, landing on the patient lying helpless on the bed.

Skyy's pulse quickened. He grabbed Kyle's arm, his voice trembling. "Let's hide in the bathroom. God, I should have at least told Chen—"

Kyle held him just as tightly, his knuckles white with tension, while Kaden stood between them and the intruder, a silent shield.

"You two need to go. Now," Kaden said, his tone sharp and unwavering. "I'll handle him." Without waiting for a response, he charged toward the man, unarmed and fearless.

"No!" Skyy whispered in panic as Kyle yanked him toward the bathroom. They stumbled in, slamming the door shut behind them.

Kyle leaned against the door, his breath ragged. "We... we should've stopped him," he muttered, his voice cracking.

Skyy's chest tightened. "Kaden—do you think he can handle it? Oh, God, Kyle, he might—he could die!"

Kyle pressed a hand over his mouth, shaking his head, his words barely audible. "We just met him. It doesn't matter... if something happens to him..." But his trembling hands and the fear in his eyes betrayed the lie.

A loud crash shattered their thoughts, and both of them froze. Skyy's heart pounded as he peeked through a crack in the door. His stomach dropped.

Kaden lay sprawled on the floor, motionless. The intruder stood over him, his grin wider now, dripping with smug satisfaction. "The people in this base are all weak chickens. If I'd known that, I would've looted this place long ago. Tsk…"

The man's eyes flicked up, meeting Skyy's horrified gaze.

Skyy slammed the door shut, his breath coming in short gasps. "Kaden's down—he's not moving!"

Kyle pushed past him, reaching for the handle. "Is he dead?"

"No... unconscious, I think. Kyle, we need to find a weapon!" Skyy's fingers dug into Kyle's arm, desperation rising like a tide.

But the bathroom was barren. Nothing useful. Nothing except...

Skyy grabbed a toilet cleaning brush. It was wet, disgusting, and hardly a weapon, but it was all they had. He swallowed hard. "Anything's better than nothing," he muttered, his hands shaking.

The door flew open with a deafening bang.

Skyy didn't think. He swung the brush with all his might, the wet bristles smacking the intruder square in the face.

"Ew, what the fuck!?" the man howled, stumbling back, wiping at his face furiously. His momentary distraction was enough.

Skyy grabbed Kyle's hand and bolted, pulling him out of the bathroom.

The man suddenly dashed at him grabbing him by his hair.

"ahhh!" the man yanked his hair, pulling him back so hard it felt like his scalp was on fire. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at those furious, bloodshot eyes.

"You bitch, I'll kill you," the man growled, his disgusting breath washing over him like a wave of rot. Skyy shut his eyes tight, shaking and sobbing softly, wishing he could disappear.

"Leave him alone!" a sudden shout cut through the air, sharp and desperate.

Skyy's eyes flew open just in time to see Kyle leap onto the man's back. he clung to him like his life depended on it, his teeth sinking into the man's neck. Blood oozed from the bite, and the man howled in rage.

"Fucking hell!!" the man yelled, swinging wildly before landing a solid punch on Kyle's face.

Kyle fell to the ground with a grunt, clutching his face.

"Kyle!" He tried to move, to reach him, but the man's grip on his hair tightened, yanking him back in place.

"You're not going anywhere," the man hissed, his grin twisted and cruel. "You think you can run? You're mine now. I'll take my time with you, little bitch."

His face came closer, his foul breath making him gag. He squirmed, tears rolling down his cheeks. "No... no, please..." he whimpered, his voice breaking into sobs. There was no escape. He couldn't move. He couldn't fight.

Suddenly, the man froze. His fingers slipped from his hair, and he stumbled back.

Skyy dropped to his knees, gasping and scrambling away, pressing himself against the cold wall.

The man let out a choked noise, his hands clawing at the sharp, twisting branch now sticking out of his chest. The branch seemed alive, writhing and coiling, sucking the life out of him. His skin cracked and grayed, his body shrinking into a dry, brittle husk before collapsing to the floor.

Skyy's chest heaved as he stared, too stunned to move. His eyes shifted upward, and that's when he saw it. The patient—the one who'd been lying unconscious on the bed moments ago—was sitting up, his breaths heavy, his eyes locked on them.

"Who the hell are you guys?" the patient asked, his voice rough and low, his gaze sharp enough to cut.

Prisitsky glared at the three strangers in his room, his chest heaving. Two of them were sprawled on the floor, barely moving, while the third was huddled against the wall, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Fear. Pure, raw fear. It didn't matter. He didn't know these people, and if they weren't from the base, then they had no business being here.

His gut twisted. They had to be intruders.

Without thinking twice, he flexed his fingers, and tree-like branches shot out, twisting through the air toward the trembling boy. The branches writhed like snakes, hungry and ready to strike.

The boy whimpered, his back pressing hard against the wall. Prisitsky didn't stop. He couldn't.

The door banged open so hard it shook the walls.

"Uncle!" Chen's voice rang out, high-pitched and desperate. Prisitsky froze mid-move, the branches halting just inches away from the boy's face. He whipped his head toward the doorway.

Chen stood there, gasping for air, his eyes darting around the room. His expression shifted to sheer panic when he saw the scene.

"No! Stop!" Chen yelled, rushing inside. "He's my friend! They're with me!" His voice cracked, but he kept going, his hands flailing. "They're not intruders, Uncle! Please, don't!"

Prisitsky felt a cold knot of regret start to form in his stomach. But his power wasn't something he could just turn off like a switch. The branches lashed out uncontrollably, snapping toward the boy despite his efforts to pull them back.

"No!"