Broken Realities: What-if

Author note at the end. Enjoy.

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[Glen POV – Day 2 - after Alex left]

Glen's alarm blared, jolting him awake. He reached out instinctively to cover his ears with a groan, "Alex," He calls out to his roommate. Usually, it would be his phone alarms ringing one after another while the man himself would sleep through. "Alex!" He called out louder to silence his phone. Only for the events of yesterday crashed back into his mind—Alex's frantic warnings, the hastily packed bags, the truck disappearing down the road.

"Shit," Glen muttered, rubbing his eyes. The room felt bigger, emptier without his roommate's presence. He glanced at the other side of the room, where the closet was open, now bare except for his clothes. It was as if Alex had never been there at all.

Though, in another corner, he could see the boxes of pizza that were neatly arranged one after the other. He couldn't help but let out a sad chuckle. Glen didn't know how he became best friends with such a cheap stack. Instead of going and buying himself notebooks, he uses the cardboard to write on.

Shaking off the melancholy, Glen got ready for class. As he gathered his books, his eyes fell on one of Alex's pamphlets that had slipped under the desk. The bold text did their jobs well warn him: EMERGENCY PREPAREDNESS NOTICE. With a frown, he took it and put it on the desk.

The campus buzzed with its usual morning activity as Glen made his way to his first class. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, which only amplified the absurdity of Alex's predictions. Yet, as he settled into his seat for Immunology, Glen couldn't shake a nagging feeling of unease.

Professor Holmes's lecture droned on about how the body fights disease, but Glen found his mind wandering. He kept glancing at Alex's empty seat next to his, half-expecting to see his friend rush in late with some ridiculous excuse. But the seat remained empty.

After class, Glen headed to his part-time job at the pizza place. The afternoon rush kept him busy, but he couldn't help overhearing snippets of conversation from the customers as he made deliveries.

"Did you hear about that weird virus in Oregon?" one customer whispered to another as Glen handed over their pizza.

"Probably just another flu scare," her friend replied with a shrug.

Glen's hand faltered as he was counting the change, Alex's words echoing in his mind. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. It was just a coincidence, he told himself. People got sick all the time.

At the start of evening, his shift ended, Glen checked his phone. No replies from Alex. With a sigh, he dialed his sister's number.

"Hey, Sarah," he said when she picked up. "Just checking in. How are things?"

"All good here, Glen," Sarah replied, her voice cheerful. "Why? Something wrong?"

Glen hesitated. "No, just... just wanted to hear your voice. Stay safe, okay?"

"Okay…? Anyway, gotta go. Love you, Glen."

"Love you too."

He ended the call, feeling slightly reassured. Everything was normal. Alex was wrong. He had to be. But as Glen rode his delivery scooter back to campus, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. 'Doesn't hurt to be prepared,' he thought.

Back in his dorm room, Glen found himself staring at Alex's empty bunk. The silence was oppressive. Unable to focus on his studies, he picked up his phone and dialed Alex's number. No answer. He tried again. And again.

After the twelfth attempt, Glen tossed his phone aside in frustration. Just as Glen was about to give up and try to get some sleep, his phone rang. His heart leapt when he saw Alex's name on the screen.

"Alex?" Glen answered, his voice a mix of relief and concern. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

There was a pause on the other end, then Alex's voice came through, sounding tired and strained. "Hello."

Glen felt a rush of emotions - relief, anger, concern. "Hello? That's all you have to say? I've been calling you all day!"

"I... I'm sorry," Alex's voice was quiet, almost fragile. "I just... I'm sorry."

Glen sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What happened?" His voice soft and gentle. He could see that something that happened that rattled his former roommate.

They talked for a while longer, Alex vaguely describing his preparations, what was his plan and where to possibly meet with everything went to shit and they lost contact, Glen alternating between concern for his friend's mental state and nagging doubt about his own skepticism. By the end of the call, Glen felt more confused than ever.

"Just... be careful, okay?" Glen said finally. "And keep in touch. Please."

"I will," Alex promised. "You be careful too, Glen. And remember what I said. Be prepared. At the first sign of trouble, get out of Atlanta. I'll meet you at Macon if you ever not answer my phone call."

"Yeah, take care as well, buddy."

After the call ended, Glen lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The nagging feeling in his chest that things will go wrong as Alex said it would kept increasing.

With a sigh, Glen reached for his laptop. Maybe a little research wouldn't hurt. Just to be prepared. Just in case.

[Glen POV – Days 3-7]

The week progressed with an undercurrent of tension that Glen couldn't quite shake. He attended his classes, went to work, studied in the library about surviving in the wild—all the usual routines of college life. But he started noticing things. Small things.

There were more campus security guards patrolling than usual. The news reports on the TV in the student union seemed to grow more ominous each day, with terms like "unknown pathogen", "shelter area", and "quarantine zones" becoming commonplace. He heard talks of their college becoming one of those shelter area.

Glen found himself paying more attention to these reports, a knot forming in his stomach each time. He tried calling Alex several times, but the calls went straight to voicemail most of the time. Last they talked; he said he camped out at a national park to train.

On the fourth day, Glen stood in the supermarket, staring at the shelves of canned goods. Almost without thinking, he began filling his cart with non-perishables. 'Just in case', he told himself. It's always good to be prepared for emergencies, right?

As he was checking out, his phone buzzed. A text from Sarah:

"Hey, been trying to reach you. Everything okay?"

Glen frowned. He hadn't missed any calls from her. He quickly texted back:

"All good here. You okay?"

"Yeah, just some weirdness with the phone lines lately. Probably nothing. Take care!"

The knot in Glen's stomach tightened and alarms bells rung in his head.

The next few days blurred together in a haze of classes, work, and growing unease. Glen found himself checking the news more frequently, his heart rate picking up every time he saw a headline about the spreading "mystery illness."

Phone lines were working half the time. Meaning, he couldn't call his sister or his parents, and when he could, they could only talk for a few minutes before being forcibly disconnected.

In his Virology class, Professor Chen spent an entire lecture discussing the potential for zoonotic diseases to jump to humans. Glen couldn't help but think of Alex's warnings about the dead rising. It seemed ridiculous in the sterile, academic setting of the classroom, but the seed of doubt had been planted.

At work, Glen noticed fewer customers coming in. Those who did often spoke in hushed tones about stocking up on supplies or plans to leave the city. He overheard one couple discussing whether they should pull their kids out of school.

On the sixth day, Glen received a group text from his study group:

"Hey everyone, study session canceled. Half the group's out sick. Stay healthy!"

Glen stared at the message for a long moment, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. People around the campus has been getting sick right when the college became a shelter area. Finally, he typed out a response:

"Anyone know what's going around? Seems like a lot of people are getting sick."

The replies came quickly:

"Probably just a bad flu."

"My roommate's been puking for two days straight. It's nasty."

"I heard it might be that new virus from the west coast."

Glen felt his chest tighten. He remembered Alex's frantic warnings about not trusting anyone showing signs of illness. It had seemed paranoid at the time, but now...

That night, Glen couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, his mind racing with possibilities. What if Alex was right? What if this was just the beginning of something much worse? Just like the video he was showed.

He tried calling his sister.

.

.

.

No answer.

[Days 8-14]

The campus was changing. Glen couldn't ignore it anymore. More and more students were leaving, citing family emergencies or vague health concerns. The classes that remained were half-empty, the professors seemingly distracted and on edge.

Glen's nights were plagued by vivid nightmares. He dreamed of empty streets, of shadows lurching in alleyways, of Alex's voice warning him over and over: "GET OUT! TAKE SARAH AND GET OUT!"

He woke up in cold sweats, checking his phone obsessively for news updates or messages from Alex. There was never anything from his friend, but the news grew more alarming by the day.

Reports of riots in major cities. Unexplained deaths. Military mobilizations.

Glen found himself staring at the pamphlet he had put on the desk. The words seemed to burn into his retinas: Stay away from populated areas. Trust no one showing signs of illness.

He called Sarah daily now, relief flooding through him each time she answered after the tenth attempt. But even their conversations were tinged with worry.

"Things are getting weird here, Glen," she said on day 13. "There's talk of closing down some neighborhoods. Military's everywhere."

Glen felt a surge of panic. The situation was deteriorating faster than he'd anticipated. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "Fuck it, stay put. Hide yourself at the house. Cover the windows and don't turn on the lights during the night. Make it seem like no one is at home. Don't open for anyone. Don't trust anyone. I'm coming to get you."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When Sarah spoke again, her voice was tight with fear. "Glen, you're scaring me. What's really going on?"

"I don't know for sure," Glen admitted, "but something bad is coming. Just... just do what I said, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," Sarah whispered. "Please be careful, Glen."

"I will. Love you."

The call ended without hearing her answer, leaving Glen with a mix of worry and dread. He had to get to Sarah, and fast.

That night, he packed a bag with essentials - clothes, non-perishable food that Alex had covered under clothes, a few first aid kit, and the few survival items that was also left behind. Glen couldn't help but laugh. He also packed Alex's pamphlet, a reminder of the warnings he'd initially dismissed. "Thanks buddy." He murmured.

As he zipped up the bag, Glen's gaze fell on a photo of him and Alex from freshman year. They were both grinning, arms slung over each other's shoulders, blissfully unaware of the future that awaited them. Glen carefully tucked the photo into his wallet. Whatever happened, he wouldn't forget his friend's warnings again.

He loaded his bag onto his scooter and sped off, the night air biting against his skin. The streets were oddly quiet, with only the occasional distant siren breaking the stillness. As he drove, Glen's mind raced with thoughts of Sarah and the warnings he wished he had taken more seriously.

He headed towards her neighborhood, careful to avoid major roads, which were becoming increasingly chaotic. The low hum of his scooter was the only sound accompanying him as he maneuvered through side streets, the shadows seeming to loom larger with each passing moment.

When he finally reached Sarah's street, an unexpected sense of relief flooded through him. He parked his scooter a couple of blocks away, not wanting to draw attention and crept silently towards her house.

As Glen approached the front door, he noticed the windows were dark, just as he had instructed. A sense of unease settled in his stomach as he reached for the doorbell, hesitating for a moment. What if she wasn't home? What if she hadn't listened? He took out his phone and the device lit up—three missed calls from Sarah.

He had missed her calls while driving. A chill ran through his body.

"Come on, please be safe," he muttered, knocking quietly on the door.

There was no answer.

He knocked again, louder this time, feeling the adrenaline pump through his veins. Panic clawed at him as he glanced around the neighborhood. Everything seemed quiet, too quiet. There were no lights on anywhere, no signs of life.

Either everyone had the same idea as him or… He gulped at the implications.

"Sarah!" he called, his voice rising in desperation. "It's me, Glen! Open the door!"

Still nothing.

His panic mounted as he stepped back from the door and looked through a nearby window. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking any view inside. Glen's mind raced with possibilities—what if something had happened? What if she had already left, trying to make her way to him? What if. What if. What if.

The only thing on his mind was what ifs.

He couldn't wait any longer. With a deep breath, he tried the doorknob, but it was locked tight. "Come on," he muttered, frustration boiling within him. He took a step back and looked around.

Then he noticed the garage door—slightly ajar. "Fuck!" He whispered to himself.

Slowly and cautiously, he made his way around the side of the house to the garage. He pushed it open gently, the creaking sound sounding like a siren in the stillness.

The dim light from the outside revealed a small Honda Civic alongside mess of garden equipment and boxes in the garage. His heart raced as he stepped inside, scanning the area for any sign of Sarah. As he moved, he noticed the distinct smell of something rotten.

"Sarah!" Glen called again, trying to keep his voice steady. "Are you here?"

At his voice, a groan echoed in the dark garage. He felt a chill ripple across his body, raising every hair. Immediately, he turned towards the noise, to find an undead stand up on the other side of the car. His eyes shot up in shock.

Glen's heart thundered in his chest as his eyes locked onto the figure in the dim light. The creature was a woman—her clothes tattered, her skin a sickly gray, mottled with dirt and blood. The grotesque expression on her face sent a wave of nausea through him as she staggered forward, her mouth opening in a silent, hungry snarl.

"No…" He whispered in horror.

He took a step back, his instincts screaming for him to run. This can't be happening.

The woman lurched closer, arms outstretched, and Glen's fight-or-flight response kicked in. He quickly scanned the garage for potential weapons or something to defend himself. His gaze darted past the Honda Civic and settled on a metal rake leaning against the wall.

Without thinking, he lunged for it, grabbing the handle just as the woman closed in. The clattering of the rake hitting the floor echoed loudly in the confined space, but Glen didn't care.

"Stay back!" he shouted, brandishing the rake in front of him like a makeshift spear. The thing paused, her head tilting in a grotesque manner, as if she could somehow understand his command.

Glen took a breath, trying to steady his trembling hands. He was about to confront a real-life walker for the first time, and the reality of it felt surreal. He had seen countless horror movies, read about survival tactics, and listened to Alex's warnings, but nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

The undead lunged again, growling low and desperate. Glen reacted on instinct, thrusting the rake forward as it tripped on something. The handle met flesh with a sickening squelch, and it pierced itself through the mouth, and into the brain. It froze and stayed unmoving.

Glen stood frozen, chest heaving, adrenaline coursing through him as he still held the rack before letting it go. It fell along the body it had pierced, another squelch echoed in the dark garage as the woman hit the floor. He hadn't expected an encounter like this, especially not here, in Sarah's garage. The sight before him was horrific. Was that Sarah? What if there are more? What if they get in?

Immediately, he bolted towards the garage door and closed it shut to make sure nothing else entered. Then Glen puked due to the situation finally hitting him and what he had done. Or more like encountered.

But after a minute of catching his breath, he slowly moved towards the Walker, inspecting it, before letting out a small sigh of relief. "It's not Sarah." He reassured himself.

He had to find Sarah. Fighting the urge to run, he carefully edged around the fallen walker and sniffed the air. The smell was nauseating, a mix of rotting flesh and decay, and every instinct told him to flee. But he needed to know if Sarah was safe.

He moved towards the door to the house, scanning the cluttered space for any sign that he stayed home. He couldn't let fear paralyze him like it had before. As soon as he was indoor, he closed the door behind him shut and locked it.

"Sarah!" Glen called quietly again, his voice stronger now. A rustling noise caught his attention. Glen's heart raced as he turned toward the sound, coming from the basement. "It's Glen." He called out and waited for answer, while slowly heading towards the stairs, his heart racing.

"Glen?" A soft scared voice whispered back, almost audible. Immediately, a surge of relief flooded Glen's body. "Yeah. It's me." He answered back, before he could finish, hurried footsteps were heard and a figure jumped in his arm.

She looked pale, her eyes wide with fear. "Glen!"

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He scanned her up and down, looking for any injury.

"I'm fine, but I thought I was going to…" Sarah exclaimed, her voice trembling slightly. "There were some people going door to door." She whispered, her voice shaking. "I… They kept banging on the door to let them in."

"People? What did they look like?" Glen asked, his heart racing again as he pulled back to look into Sarah's eyes.

"They… they looked sick, Glen. Their skin was pale, and their eyes were…" She trailed off, shivering at the memory. "They were begging. I thought they were just trying to find help. I almost opened the door until I heard that noise in the garage."

Glen's stomach twisted. "You made the right choice. I just… I just killed one of them in the garage. It was a woman. I wasn't sure if she was..." He frowned, fighting down the bile that threatened to rise again.

"Is she… dead?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide.

Glen nodded, the weight of what he had done pressing heavily on his chest. "I think so. I—I didn't have a choice."

Sarah's breath hitched, and Glen could see the horror settling in. "What's happening, Glen? Why is this happening?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But we need to get out of here. Now."

"Where do we go?" she asked, glancing nervously toward the windows, as if expecting to see the shadows of the walkers outside.

"South," he replied firmly, shoving his emotions aside for the moment. "To Macon first. For mom and dad. Then we'll figure things from there with Alex."

"Alex? Is he okay? Where is he?" She shot back one after another and he shook his head. Immediately, her eyes widened in horror then sadness. "He left town. He's safe." Glen continued, seeing her sigh in relief.

"I need you to pack everything you can in a travel bag or carryon. Clothes, and essentials. I'll take a look in the kitchen if you have anything." He told her, before she nodded and went down to basement again to pack.

After taking everything they could, Glen lead them back towards the door leading to the garage. "Don't look at it too much. Just put everything in your car. I'll drive." With a shaky nod, Sarah readied herself.

As soon as Glen opened the door, the stench froze both of them before pushing through it. Sarah stumbled when she saw the body, but she did what Glen told her to, then got in the passenger seat.

Opening the garage door was very loud, but as soon as it was fully open, Glen accelerated to the road, stopping by his scooter to take his carry-on filled with supplies, then raced away from the neighborhood. Not a moment later, Glen saw figures limping towards the house, drawn by the sound.

He gulped in nervousness but shook his head. Instead, a question popped in his head. "Why was everything so quiet." The night should be filled with sirens, alarns, and people running around like headless chickens. Yet, it was too quiet. Especially, Sarah's neighborhood.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" Sarah asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"We will be," Glen promised, even as uncertainty gnawed at him. "I won't let anything happen to you." He continued, as Alex's plan echoed in his mind.

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Author Note:

Hello there.

Sorry, a lot happened in this chapter. Which I enjoyed writing and brainstorming in shower. From what I remember in Glen's BIO, he had at least a sibling and parents in Macon city. Which is where the drugstore/motel episodes were happening in the game. I didn't know the Glen in the game was the same Glen of the series. Which was an interesting discovery.

Some of you may be frustrated with Glen's indecisiveness and believe me, while writing this chapter, I was doubting if I should even continue with plot points. But then I thought of the cop that was driving Lee to the prison. If he, as a cop was unaware of the situation and the walkers, then what about the every day people. Since cops and emergency services are the first ones to be aware of an emergency.

Another thing that played in Glen's indecisiveness was the thought of people dying, then coming back as zombies. In Walking Dead world, the thought and idea of zombie/ghouls are nonexistent. At least, from what I know. So, when he first saw the leaked video of military vs walkers, he thought of it as an interesting plot.

Adding the fact that he's a medical student in my story, yeah... Logic wins.

Anyway, while I want to say more, I'll save it for now.

Next chapter, I'll move back to Alex's POV since both Glen and Alex are in the same point of time now.

Next chapter, plot points regarding the Greene Farm, first impression, dialogues, plans for what to do next, things like that. 

I still need that vote regarding if I should add series casts or not. Since someone mentioned Maggie as a possible match and she's only in the series and not game.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Stay safe.

Author out.

Cat saying pathetic meme HERE.