A/N: Alright, so I just wrote this fic up because I think that RussAme could use a bit of randomness. So, obvious RussAme is the main pairing. Also, OC use in the form of General Winter's crush Seren who is my vision of Mother Africa.

And... * sigh * I don't even have to say what was the spring-board for this fic. This will be a three-shot, two chaps going up today. So... Let's go.

Disclaimer - I don't own anything but my warped mind! Woo~!

The morning sun gently broke into a bedroom between a set of cream and white curtains. The stimuli of the sun's warmth and the sounds of robins gently chirping as they fixed their nests were enough to earn a groan from the room's inhabitant.

The covers of the bed were slowly moved to the side, a young man sitting up and giving a heavy yawn as he scratched his short, cream-colored hair. He was born of Russian descent: his hair, large nose, broad, slightly-haired, muscled chest and, as he stood up from the mattress, very tall stature bearing witness to that fact.

"What time is it?" His voice, deep and dark like decadent liquor, rasped out to no one in particular due to just waking up. He reached a large hand out to his nightstand to retrieve a digital alarm-clock that rested next to a framed picture of himself and another teen who had short blonde hair with a hair-gel defying curl and a pair of glasses hiding his blue eyes.

Lavender eyes read the device's face, "5:00 AM?" He sat the clock back down, walking to the window as he seemed to think for a moment.

Finally, he smiled, "I have enough time."

The next hour found the young Russian in what could only be described as an in-home gym: complete with three treadmills, a swimming pool, rock-climbing wall, an impressive set of weights, a few fight-dummies, and even more.

The ream-haired male from before was busy doing pull-ups, his legs hooked onto a bar of steel suspended over the gym door-way. He himself had just gone through a vigorous bout with the treadmill, followed by tackling the rock-wall, then bench-pressing a couple-hundred pounds worth of iron.

But this was just a typical day for him. His family wasn't a lazy on by any means, his father made sure of that. However, since he himself was a quarterback for his high school's football team, he made sure to keep himself in the highest peak of fitness.

Sweat cascaded down his solid pectorals and hard abs as he pulled his upper-body up to his knees time and time again. So into his task he was that he didn't notice the time until a sweet, feminine voice could be heard, "Vanya! Come into the kitchen and eat something before you go to school!"

At that note, he carefully unhooked his legs: falling and landing on the heels of his hands before grabbing a towel from a nearby chair and walking towards the bathroom for a shower.

"Good morning Vanya." Was the first thing that he heard upon walking into the kitchen. Vanya, rather, Ivan looked over to the stove and saw his older sister Katyusha busy making breakfast. Katyusha was a young woman of twenty-three years. Her blonde hair was cut into a short bob, several fringes held back by a simple hair-pin. Her most stunning features, however, had to be her kind blue eyes...

And her more than impressive bust that she always had to struggle to keep inside her shirts and dresses whenever she worked.

Ivan took a seat at the dining table next to the older gentleman who sat there. His hair was long and white as snow, just as his beard. Eyes like a frozen lake read over a newspaper that was laying on the table. "Father." Ivan nodded.

"Ivan." Winter nodded back before Katyusha handed Ivan a plate of pancakes, "Is there practice for that American Football today?"

"Da." Ivan replied, digging in, "But I will be meeting with Alfred this afternoon as well so I am not sure when I will be home." Winter nodded,

"Just make sure to call. And please to be keeping your phone on, I am not paying four different phone bills just to have them sit and be quiet." He turned, "That is going for you as well Yekatrina."

"Yes father." Katyusha smiled. "Vanya, Toris gave Natalia a ride to school today so you can just eat and head on your way."

"Thank goodness for the small miracles..." Ivan sighed. He then turned to his father, Winter blinking,


"You should really go out on that date."

You see, Winter and his wife had come to America from Russia when their children were very young, the lot of them having to struggle to make the transition from Russian to English. However, one day, Ivan's mother fell to a very drastic accident that ended up taking her life.

So, Winter practically raised his three children on his own. But... There was one woman who Winter had met and become fast friends with when helping Katyusha apply for college. In Ivan's own opinion, she was a nice woman: very relaxed, down to the earth, African (for the life of him, he couldn't specify which country), and very kind.

"Well..." Winter cleared his throat, "The thing with that is... I am not knowing her schedule... And she is a University professor, what would we even talk about?" Ivan only rolled his eyes, walking over to hug Katyusha as she handed him a brown paper-bag,

"Have a good day!", she beamed as he walked out to the garage.

The family business kept the Braginski family well-off. That could be seen in their impressive home in Northern California and the sleek black sports-car that Ivan was driving through the streets of Sacramento.

He had, unfortunately, forgotten that his boyfriend Alfred wanted to meet him before the first bell of classes at Capital High so he had to get there as soon as possible. "How could I have forgotten?" He gave a slight glance to the trunk via the rear-view mirror. He had just been so busy lately.

Abruptly, the sounds of police sirens and screams tore his attention away from his thoughts. "No..." He whispered, shaking his head.

Fires had broken out all over the center of California's capital city: buildings falling apart and people screaming as they ran for cover. But that wasn't what made Ivan's blood run cold.

They were the cause of that.

Groaning, shrieking, hissing... Shuffling and crawling across the streets, into buildings, all over Capital High... Skin and flesh sagging or falling from their bones.

Corpses... Thousands of corpses had been released from their graves and were out on the hunt on the unsuspecting citizens of the city.

"Damn..." The young Russian gritted out, tightening his grip on the wheel. His mind went to Natalia, was she able to see the threat coming?

And then Alfred. Oh, if a single hair was out of place on that boy's head!

With that firm resolution in mind, Ivan floored the gas pedal of his car: accelerating towards the school and mowing through swarms of decaying bodies (and a few living ones for that matter) until, after a moment, he abruptly pulled up the hand-brake: causing the car to roll into a deadly spin.

The seemingly out of control vehicle took more than a fair share of the moving corpses with it until it finally, finally, skidded to a stop: smoldering corpses all around.

A steel-toed boot kicked out the driver's-side door, Ivan carefully pulling himself out. One of the undead beneath him groaned as he passed by, just to have its skull broken as the Russian circled the remains of his car until he got to the trunk. "Let's see..." Inside was quite the impressive collection of firearms, swords, explosives... and more than a few bottles of imported vodka.

Ivan took his backpack and placed as much of the heavy artillery and heavy liquor inside as possible. He had gotten quite a bit in before reaching into the trunk once more and retrieving a long, sturdy, steel faucet pipe. He closed the trunk with a heavy slam, walking away from the remains of the car.

More corpses began shuffling towards the machine, but Ivan didn't act right then and there. Only when Ivan was a safe distance away did he reach into his pocket, retrieving a simple handgun, turn around, and fire...

No sooner did the bullet hit the exposed fuel tank of the vehicle did it explode into an inferno of flames, sending thick blood and clumps of foul-smelling flesh in all directions. However, that didn't stop the rest of the hoard from coming closer to try their hand at killing the Russian.

Ivan didn't even flinch. He tightened his grip on the pipe, spinning it once in a slow, calculating motion, lavender eyes keeping track of the corpses' movements.

Then... they attacked.

"Alfred?" Ivan's voice could be heard echoing through the school courtyard. The Russian male ran into the garden-like enclosure, his breathing coming in the form of sharp pants and his pipe caked in dark, viscous blood.

"Where could he be?" He asked, trying not to let his mind go to the worst, "Alfred!" He was so focused on trying to find the other, that he didn't notice that he was being watched: growls rumbling from behind a hedge.

Quicker than the wind, a corpse jumped out of that same hedge: mouth dripping off-colored saliva. It's dead eyes were still sparking with hunger and Ivan looked like more than a hearty meal.

"IVAN!" The cream-haired teen turned around just in time to see the corpse being tackled away by the teenager in his photograph. However, that simple image would never have been able to do Alfred any real justice: not with the way the sun danced over his golden hair, his precious baby-blue eyes, his honeyed complexion...

All tightened into an expression of rage and worry as he forced the moving corpse away. "Run Ivan!" He shouted, "Go get help, I'll hold him off!"

"Alfred, no!" Ivan moved to rush over, but was stopped by something grabbing at his ankles: a new corpse crawling across the ground. He slammed the pipe down, embedding the end of it into the corpse's spine before pulling it out and crushing it into the head.


Ivan whipped his head over and saw a horrible sight. It appeared that Alfred had lost the upper hand in his fight... the corpse's teeth ripping into his right arm. "NO!" Ivan screamed, bolting over and kicking the corpse away: stabbing the faucet-pipe into its chest.

"Alfred..." He whispered, kneeling close to the blonde, "Alfred, are you awake?" The other teen's eyelids fluttered open, the blonde smiling,

"Hey big guy..." Ivan smiled at the nickname the other had for him, "You alright? You know, I was pretty heroic back there..." He broke into a haggard cough, Ivan clenching his teeth together in a forced smile, hiding on-coming tears,

"Da... You were."

Alfred glanced down to his arm, whistling, "Bastard sure did a number on me though. Fuck, I don't even think I could cover this up with makeup or anything. Hey... Ivan..."


"That thing, I think it was a zombie... Either that or my mind is going fuzzy from whatever it put in me with that bite." He looked up when he felt Ivan's arms trembling and his breath catch, "Damn it... All I wanted to do was show you our vacation plans... We were going to paint the country red baby..."

Oh yes, the road-trip. Alfred had wanted to travel across the country with Ivan for as long as he could remember. And since they were already on the fast-track to graduation with grades and school credits after the end of football season this year, they were going to pack up their bags and go.

"Do not say that..." Ivan sniffled, "You'll be fine. I just..." He looked around, finding nothing he could do. And Alfred was fading fast.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Alfred chuckled, hissing as a sickly heat began to roll through his body, "Think of it this way: I'm going out as young and handsome as ever, heh heh."

Then... Ivan was silent. He gently lay Alfred's head against the ground and walked away. "Hey..." Alfred wondered, "Where are you going?"

"Do not worry Dorogoy..." Ivan chuckled, "Everything shall be alright." Out of sight, he retrieved the faucet pipe.

"Um..." Alfred gulped as he felt the air of the situation shifted, "Baby? What's going on?" He looked up to see Ivan smiling a grin that was almost feral, the pipe spinning in his hands until was standing above the blonde. "Ivan?"

"I LOVE YOU ALFRED!" Ivan shouted, swinging the pipe down.

"Mrm..." Alfred groaned as he struggled to open his eyes, the lids heavy from sleep, "Wha..?" They drifted open, the view a bit blurry. However, he could make out what seemed to be an outline of Ivan's head.

"Oh dorogoy..." The Russian gave a relieved sigh, "You are alive, thank goodness it worked!" Alfred's eyes shut again, the blonde trying to get his vision cleared.

"Hey big guy..." He whispered through a heavy yawn, "What happened back there?" He was curious as to what happened and if that whole deal with that undead corpse had been real or the result of too many late night sessions of Nazi Zombies. Alfred reached up a hand to wipe some of the sleep out of his eyes... And noticed that his hand was... hairier than he had remembered. Come to think of it, he couldn't move his fingers. It was like he didn't even have fingers! And, looking back to Ivan's smiling face, he noted that the other was holding him up higher from the ground than he usually could.

Breathing becoming quick, Alfred tried to look around. His vision, though clearer than it was, was still blurry because he didn't have his glasses. But he could make out certain things. The two of them were in a classroom, okay that meant they were in the school, but he couldn't help but feel that something was horribly wrong.

"Fuck, I need a drink..." He groaned, reaching up to move his hair from his eyes... And seeing a paw. "Huh..?"

"Alfred, please..." Ivan gently spoke, trying to calm the other down, "Just take things one at a time and..." Alfred completely ignored Ivan and whipped his head around, finally finding the reflective surface of a over-turned TV.

The image that was presented to him, however, was of Ivan holding a small, Golden Retriever puppy. The sight would have been cute if Alfred could see himself. Wait a minute though... The puppy's shade of hair was almost exactly like his own... There was even a stubborn curl on top of its head. It even had beautiful baby-blue eyes.

Alfred blinked.

The Puppy blinked at the same time.


"Please to stop screaming!" Ivan sobbed, holding the puppy that used to be his boyfriend as he tried to plead his case, his emotions causing his English to become sloppy, "It was only thing I could do to save you!" Alfred squirmed out of Ivan's grasp, falling to the floor on all fours.

"No... No. No! This is not happening!" The Golden Retriever puppy began pacing back and forth as his mind tried, and failed, to get a handle on things. "Ivan, what fuck happened to my body?"

Ivan fell to his knees in front of the small blonde pup, crying, "Don't be mad! It was the only thing I could think of!" The Russian frowned, wiping one of the tears from his eyes, "Actually, I would appreciate some gratitude for this..."

"WHAT?" Alfred barked, "What is this? Ivan, tell me what the fuck is going on NOW!" Ivan sat down in a more comfortable position before he began,

"As you probably remember, when we met in the park you were attacked by that undead corpse."

"Undead..." Alfred thought for a second, "You mean that zombie?" Ivan nodded,

"It bit you. The saliva of the undead is more lethal than any poison. A single bite can infect a victim's entire body in less than 5 minutes." A shaky breath, "I was so frightened... the thought of losing you to the poison... and having to be the one to kill you..."

"Kill me?" Alfred yelped, "The fuck do you mean 'kill me'?"

"Dorogoy, please." Ivan hushed the puppy, both for want of continuing his story but also because he thought he heard something in the hallways. "I could never harm you... But I couldn't let you become infected either. Fortunately..." He glanced to Alfred's new physique, "The moment you had begun to succumb to the poison, the most adorable puppy passed by!"

If Ivan had had a better choice for this, he would have taken it. But after he had cracked Alfred's skull open, he knew that he only had a few precious moments before the blonde's blood would stop flowing.

He had to act fast.

He ripped out a hunting knife from his boot and, in no time at all, ripped away his boyfriend's shirt and forced the knife into his chest: quickly and carefully cutting through organ and around bone until he reached his target...

The heart.

"Here boy..." He whispered to the puppy as it slowly padded over. When it was close enough, Ivan held out the slowly beating heart, "I have a treat for you..." The puppy slowly licked at the dripping organ, eventually chewing into it. "Good, good..." Ivan whispered, continuing with his plan. He dipped his free hand into the body's chest cavity and returned with some fresher blood: rubbing it into the puppy's fur.

In no time, the puppy had finished off the last slivers of Alfred's heart. Ivan sat back on his heels and used more blood to draw a series of symbols on the ground: mouthing out Slavic words and phrases long forgotten.

When the symbols were complete, he pressed both of his hands to the ground: the blood symbols and the sanguine liquid on the puppy glowing until the small animal keeled over, it's brown fur slowly turning into golden blonde...

"I..." Ivan hummed, looking away from the angry, confused puppy, "Used an ancient soul-transfusion spell to save you."

"SO YOU TURNED ME INTO A FUCKING FURRY?" Alfred screamed, managing to stand up on his hind-legs for a moment before falling onto his rump. "Ow..." He whined, "Tails hurt... Wait a minute, NO!" He jumped up and glared up at Ivan, "What the hell is going on here? The zombies, the spells, my new, sudden urge to lick my own balls – Ivan, you're keeping something from me!"

Ivan groaned, pressing his face into his palms. He didn't want to tell Alfred his secret, his family's secret. But it was seeming like he wasn't going to have a choice. "God, help me..." He whispered, trying to think of the best way to do this.

While Ivan was having his personal dilemma, Alfred was still trying to get a hold of his emotions, his new body, and damn it if he didn't want to lick his own balls! But his new, sensitive ears caught hold of the jiggling of the door-knob. He looked behind Ivan, seeing a bunch of shuffling shadows through the opaque window of the classroom door. "Um, Ivan..."

"I..." The cream-haired male began. The hinges on the door creaked as the bodies on the other side pushed and pulled at it.

"Ivan..." Alfred gulped.

"I am..."

The glass of the window began to crack.

"Ivan, look behind you!" Alfred finally barked as the door finally, finally gave way: moving corpses groaning and shrieking as they poured into the room.

Ivan, still in confession-mode, looked up from his palms: face set in cold, hard determination and stated, "I am the latest in a long lineage of monster-hunters." He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a golden handgun.

He stood, turned around and fired: the single red-hot bullet piercing through the all of the undead in the middle of the swarm, causing a series of explosion as their bodies blew into clouds of foul-smelling flesh and congealed blood.

In the commotion, Alfred yelped as he was picked up and tossed into the air: safely landing in Ivan's backpack. "Oh, fuck me," The puppy whined, "What next?"

"Dig around in there, if you please." Ivan directed as he picked up his faucet-pipe from the floor, the other corpses moving about the classroom, "There should be something in there that you might be happy to see."

"Unless its 'How to Get My Body Back – For Dummies' I doubt that." Alfred snapped but, nonetheless, sank into the backpack and rummaged around until he found what appeared to be... "My glasses!"

"I can re-size them..." The cream-haired male offered as he shot another group of the corpses, the lot exploding into rotting flesh, "If need be." Alfred used his mouth to toss the eye-wear into the air before they landed on his face.

"Nah, they still fit." Vision back, Alfred looked around and was able to scream, "Ivan, look out!" Just as a male corpse lunged towards Ivan. The Russian narrowed his eyes before turning around and swinging his pipe into the corpse's skull: fragments of bone and chunks of inflamed grey-matter flying out.

When the corpses didn't seem to want to give in, Ivan rested the pipe on his back in favor of reaching into one of the many compartments of his backpack and pulling out a hammer and sickle. "Hey, wait a minute." Alfred tilted his head, "I think I was absent for this part of history." Ivan couldn't help but chuckle, even when he charged into the fray: cracking jaws with the hammer and slicing bodies apart with the sickle's blade.

By the time he had a moment to take a breather, his arms were caked in dark blood and his hair was plastered to his forehead by the beads of sweat from his work. "I can't hear anything, guess the coast is clear." Alfred commented, perking up his ears. "Ivan, so what you said back there... about your family?"

Ivan nodded, putting the sickle and hammer back into his bag and settling back on his faucet-pipe, "Da, that is how my father was able to set up a home and keep me and my sisters fed. We are really more of monster-slayers than just zombie hunters, to be honest, but it seems as though this country is zombie territory."

Alfred's head was still spinning with all this new info it had to process. At least it looked like Ivan knew what he was doing, his fighting skill had been more than impressive. Something clicked in his mind. "So... Your mom..."

Ivan, who had been scouting the halls, stopped. A heavy sigh racked his frame before he began, "A training trip gone so very wrong. She had been cornered by three of them at once. It was all my fault though... She had told me to run with my sisters to find my father... But I couldn't leave her alone like that. And then..." He had to stop to lop the head off of a corpse that used to be their Biology teacher. "They swarmed after me. My training wasn't finished and I was no match for them all. My mother put herself between them and me. She... sacrificed her life for mine."

"Oh Ivan." Alfred whispered, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's..." The Russian shook his head, "It is alright. My mother's sacrifice is part of what made me who I am today. Also, I..." He trailed off when he saw that their path was blocked by a new swarm of the undead. At first, Ivan was a bit ticked about the interruption. However, he smiled, "Alfred, would you kindly hand me the candy-apple red AK-47 that is in that bag?"

"Um, Ivan... I've been sitting in this bag for almost two hours and I really don't think that a gun that size would fit in..." Alfred suddenly sniffed, digging around in the backpack and, sure enough, fishing out the head of the deadly, yet stunningly sexy, weapon. "How..?"

"Oh Dorogoy..." Ivan chuckled, reaching back to pull the rest of the weapon out, "I see that you are not familiar with the Laws of Hammer space?" Alfred whined,

"At this point in time, I'm unsure about what I thought I knew about the Laws of Physics." Ivan chuckled again, unlocking the gun's safety before taking aim. Then, running forward, he held his finger against the trigger: mowing down corpses left and right and clearing a path to the school's boiler room...


Please review! It would make Ivan so happy that he would play a round of zombie-head golf with you!

-Tyranno's girl.