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Spoiler Alert: Does not involve ACTUAL Cosplayers. The title is a means of having an all-inclusive mutliverse of characters to choose from. Some of you may remember my VGBabes vs. The Legions of the Undead series. This is the reboot of that. If you'd like to help choose who shows up in it and get other bonus goodies, feel free to check out my Patreon page: Beyond that, enjoy the mayhem!

CosplayBabes vs. The Legions of the Undead

By Deathstalker

Chapter One: Hermoine Granger

The sprawling city had been a bustling hive of vibrant life once upon a time. That all ended with a single snap of the Omni’s fingers. Over eight million people died in an instant. In another instant, a vast majority of them came back, possessed by an ancient evil. All memories of their former lives vanished, replaced by the primal urges to feed and mate. The Omni looked upon the newly formed Necropolis and smiled, knowing it would make a perfect arena for countless playthings to amuse him. As the hordes of living dead shuffled their way through the city’s streets, eagerly seeking out anything they might be able to fuck or feed on, the Omni turned its attention away from its playground and focused on the limitless choice of potential toys to be broken and devoured for its amusement.

The sheer number of options would have left a lesser being reeling with nausea, but the Omni craved the freedom of ultimate power. It had long ago learned to let its mind wander aimlessly, operating largely on whims and instincts instead of conscious choice. The Omni’s choice may not have been truly random, but it might as well have been. A swirling mass of a million different forms formed within its consciousness, gradually filtering down to a single entity. She was young, but possessed an impressive intelligence. The magical blood flowing through her veins gave her strength enough to not be utterly helpless against the Legions of the Undead. The Omni learned every detail of Hermoine Granger’s life in a single instant. And in another instant, it plucked the young woman out of her reality and dumped her into the Necropolis.


Hermoine’s brow furrowed as she looked out onto the hellish landscape before her. Her gut stirred with unease both from the sudden teleportation and the distinct stench of rotten meat. Her thoughts immediately turned to Voldemort. It had been nearly a year since the dark wizard had been vanquished once and for all, but he still haunted Hermoine’s dreams. It would explain the sudden, unnatural abduction, but the venue felt more like a nightmare than reality. Even at a glance, she could tell the city she’d appeared in was huge and sprawling, but there were no signs of life. No activity on the streets. Everything about the area felt wrong. Sliding her wand free, the young witch darted into an alleyway to avoid being seen, desperately needing a moment to gather her bearings and try to figure out what had happened.

The first thing to strike Hermoine as she entered the alley was the stench. She’d noticed it out on the street, but it was so much worse in the closed in space. Rancid, putrid meat left out to rot mixed with something else. Hermoine’s brilliant mind had no trouble linking it to the lingering aroma left in the air in the wake of her and Ron making love, but she desperately did not want to accept the disturbing connection. In her shocked disorientation, it took a moment for her to notice the soft guttural yet feminine grunting coming from deeper in the alleyway. Wet, fleshy slapping accompanied the grunts. As much as Hermoine did not want to interrupt the act she was so certain was taking place just behind the nearby dumpster, she needed to find out where she was. She moved towards the sound of passionate rutting, clutching her wand tightly in her hand, feeling equal parts embarrassment, worry, and disgust.

Hermoine stopped short as her eyes full upon the couple working out their physical urges in the alley. The scene looked fundamentally wrong. The woman – lying on the ground with her legs splayed wide – appeared to be wearing what had once been a nurse’s uniform. The front of it had been ripped open, allowing her full breasts to spill free. The pliant flesh – dirty and discolored – jiggled with each thrust the man gave his lover. The man’s clothing was in just as much disarray, but it looked like the traditional garb of a priest. The bizarre pairing was only the first thing to strike Hermoine as wrong. Their skin was a greyish-green color, dry and cracked in some places and gooey and oozing in others. She caught the woman’s eyes and saw a milky haze over them. The stench of death and decay wafted off of them in heavy waves, forcing the young witch to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from puking.

Knowing with utter certainty that she would get no help from the couple, Hermoine stumbled back from them towards the opening of the alley. She let out a sharp shriek as her back connected with something solid and spun around. A more distinct scream passed her lips as she found herself looking up into the half-rotten face of another of the living corpses. Wiggling maggots dribbled from the thing’s sunken nostrils. The dead man showed her his yellowed teeth as he grinned down at her and lunged forward. Hermoine brought her wand up instinctively and pressed the tip of it against his skinny chest, muttering a magical word that sent the zombie shooting away from her. The corpse’s compromised physical stability caused his spine to shatter as it connected with a nearby lamp post, sending him crumbling to the ground. The man didn’t seem to mind the paralyzing damage, stretching his arms out in front of him to crawl his way back towards the young witch.

Hermoine ran. As far as plans went, she knew it wasn’t a good one. The disturbing reality she’d been transported to helped to prove that point as another of the undead creatures sprang out of a shadowy corner beside her. She tried to twist away from it, but only managed to get her feet tangled together. “No!” she screamed as she fell, wide eyes fixed on the lecherous gaze of the zombie reaching for her. Air rushed from her lungs as her back it the hard ground. The clatter of her wand skittering across the cement rang in her ears. She turned towards her lost wand, knowing it was the only weapon she had against the unnatural monsters. Rolling onto her side, she stretched her arm towards her salvation, curling her fingers to regain her grip on it.

Hermoine’s fingers lightly brushed against the vine wood before a pair of rough hands clamped down on her slender hips. She shrieked as the hands yanked her away from the wand, tears stinging her eyes as she twisted her head around to look up at the zombie looming over her. The thing slipped his fingers into the waistband of her skirt and yanked downwards roughly. The skirt slid over her perky rear, exposing her white cotton panties, before bunching up around her knees. The zombie dropped onto the backs of Hermoine’s legs, keeping her effectively pinned as he brought one hand down to the crotch of his soiled pants. He clawed at the fabric until the button popped open and the zipper crept down. Hermoine’s sobs intensified as her eyes bulged with sickened horror, watching as the dead man’s throbbing member sprang free of his pants.

The zombie ripped through the seat of the young witch’s panties, exposing the smooth, flawless flesh of her buttocks to the cold light of the streetlamp overhead. Hermoine squirmed and flailed as best she could, trying to get out from under the monster before he did what he so clearly wanted to. The frigid, hard slab of cock-meat slid against her warm flesh as the zombie scooted over her, taking up position atop her. His hands came down on her shoulders, shoving Hermoine against the ground and further pinning her as his hips began to lightly grind against her. Hermoine stretched her left arm out towards her wand, straining her fingers and nearly popping her shoulder out of its socket in an attempt to reach far enough to save herself from the macabre assault.

After a few humps, the tip of the zombie’s cock mashed against the dry lips of Hermoine’s cunt. The heat of her sex against the coldness of his dead dick contrasted greatly and told the zombie he had found his target. Tightening his grip on the girl’s shoulders, the dead man slammed his hips forward. Hermoine screamed through clenched teeth, fresh tears gushing from her bulging eyes as she felt several stiff inches of zombie cock slam into her unwilling sex. Her clever mind had no trouble determining that the undead monster violating her was significantly larger – both in length and girth – than Ron. It was yet another comparison she desperately wished she hadn’t made. The pain radiating up from her crotch wasn’t quite the distraction she wanted from her analytical mind, but it was the only thing she had. Her left hand continued to slap at the ground, fingernails scrapping against the rough cement as the zombie’s thrusts picked up speed, urgently hoping she could somehow reach her wand and save herself.

The pleasure of Hermoine’s tight snatch clinging to his prick like a second skin was exactly the sort of stimulation the undead man had been searching for since he’d been returned to his shell of un-life. Her warm flesh felt like a drug to him, encouraging him to ravage her – first sexually and then in other ways. But the young woman’s single flailing arm managed to stir his attention, despite his muddied yet focused instincts. The zombie’s hips continued to pump away at the girl, feeling her gripping hole slowly slicken as her body responded to his rough penetration, but his eyes roamed up the length of Hermoine’s arm to the tips of her fingers and beyond, spotting a slender length of wood just over ten inches in length. The zombie tilted his head, perplexed by the object. He had no way to comprehend what it was or what it could do, but the young witch’s interest in it stirred the last vestiges of his survival instincts. If his prey desired the object, he needed to ensure she could not obtain it.

Hermoine let out a pathetic wail as the undead monster raping her from behind leaned across her. She shook her head, blinking the tears from her eyes and letting out fresh sobs as she watched with sinking dread as the creature used his greater arm length to reach past her outstretched hand and scoop up her wand. “No, please,” she whimpered. “Give it back!” She cried out as the zombie cock speared into her again, rubbing against her aching inner cunt walls. Her hope of escaping faded, leaving behind the terrible near certainty that she most likely would never discover who or what had transporter her to the hellish city. That she would never see Ron or Harry or any of her other friends again. That the remainder of her life would be as a rape-puppet for the grotesque monstrosities inhabiting the city. The innocent young witch – as clever as she was – could not comprehend the true horror that awaited her.

The zombie continued to pump his prick into Hermoine’s pussy, examining the wand with dull, milky eyes. His curiosity led to him not pinning the witch quite as effectively. She managed to lift her upper body and twist to the side, making a frantic grab for her wand. Her fingers came within an inch of her target, but the zombie instinctively yanked its newly discovered toy away from his slightly not-so-new toy. The undead man’s annoyance grew as the girl kept trying to grab the wand. Unable to figure out what was so important about the slender length of hard wood, he let out an angry snarl and decided to return it to her.

The zombie dropped one hand down on top of Hermoine’s head, digging his fingers into her scalp firmly. The girl continued to writhe and flail beneath him, jerking her arms back to grab at her wand. The zombie growled with annoyance, forced to slow his thrusts as he shifted the limited resources of his putrid brain towards doing something beyond plundering the depths of the young witch’s lightly pulsing cunt. He brought the thin tip of Hermoine’s wand down to her head, managing to slip it into the canal of her ear. Hermoine’s struggles faltered as she felt the wand touching against the side of her head. She didn’t know what the creature was doing, but she refused to believe the horrible monstrosity actually possessed any form of magical ability. She was right, but the zombie hardly needed magical powers or the knowledge of spells to use the wand against its owner.

With a heavy grunt, the living corpse shoved Hermoine’s wand into and through her earhole. The young woman’s eyes widened with sudden horror, realizing what the creature was going to do to her a fraction of a second before her eardrum ruptured. She let out a sharp scream that abruptly transformed into dulled groan. Hermoine Granger’s trusty wand skewered her brilliant brain, transforming her into nearly as much of a brainless dullard as the dead man fucking her from behind. The wand was more than long enough to impale Hermoine’s head, the base of it extending from her right ear while the bloody tip emerged from her left. The girl’s mouth dropped slack, eyelids drooping as muscle spasms crept across her face. Her arms flopped back to the ground. As the zombie picked up the speed of his thrusts again, she released an awkward moan. The zombie fucking Hermoine from behind took hold of either end of the girl’s wand, using it for leverage as he hammered into her snatch, finding the penetration further eased as her bladder drained.

The zombie priest – having left the undead nurse with a cunt packed full of his jizz – shambled out of the alleyway, drawn by the source of the commotion he’d heard. His dull eyes fell upon Hermoine’s slackened face – still alive, but brutally brain damaged. Even more alluring was her mouth, hanging open, grunting, groaning, and letting out the occasional little squeak. The zombie’s cock – in a state of perpetual half-stiffness – twitched and rose back to full attention as he moved towards the doomed young witch. He guided the bulbous tip of his erection to her gaping mouth and pushed into the warm dampness, feeling her slightly twitching tongue wiggle against the underside of his dick. The zombie priest took over holding onto the ends of Hermoine’s wand, yanking on the thin piece of vine wood to pull her face against his crotch.

The pair of zombies enjoyed double-teaming the twitching teenager between them, ravaging her holes. Hermoine remained trapped, both physically and mentally. Her skewered mind occasionally managed to work well enough to deliver a shocking dose of reality upon her, but for the most part, she was left in a near vegetative state, drooling around her mouthful of zombie cock-meat and lightly grinding her perky butt against the dead man behind her. Blood dribbled freely from her ears and oozed from her nostrils as her eyes lazily swayed and crossed. The young woman’s bright future was a thing of the past now that she’d been transformed into a husk nearly as mindless as the things raping her.

As the zombie priest neared his climax, he yanked harder on the two sides of Hermoine’s wand. Tears dampened the girl’s flushed cheeks as she reflexively gagged around the rancid prick plugging her throat. She managed to get a brief taste of the undead spunk as it blasted across the back of her tongue. The zombie priest groaned loudly, tightening his grip on the wand and giving it one last yank. The thin wood could take no more. It snapped in half, severing the dragon heartstring within it and unleashing the magic infused within it. In an open environment, there would have been impressive bit of fireworks. Trapped within Hermoine’s brain, the result was a good deal more graphic. The girl’s head seamed to expand outwards like a balloon being inflated. Her features took on an almost comical exaggeration as the soft creaks and strain of her bone and skin crept out of her. Hermoine’s eyes bulged, tears staining red as heavier globs of blood sneezed from her nostrils and ears. And then – roughly half a second after the wand snapped – Hermoine’s head exploded.

The zombie priest stumbled back, the upper half of his cock ripped away, and landed hard on his ass. The remaining stump continued to pump bloody cum out onto the street. Hermoine’s headless corpse slumped forward, the zombie behind her hammering into her sweet young snatch harder until he shot his own load deep into her convulsing cunt. Death spams rocked through the young witch, causing her arms and legs to flop about wildly for nearly a minute before starting to fade off. The zombie priest – seemingly unbothered by the loss of most of his dick – leaned forward to scoop up a few chunks of Hermoine’s steaming, half-scorched brain matter and shoveled it into his waiting mouth. The rest of her young flesh would soon be devoured as well, leaving behind little more than a few broken bones and bloody smears to signal the remains of the Necropolis’s first unfortunate visitor.


Chapter Two: Widowmaker

The tingle of anticipatory pleasure was all too familiar to Widowmaker. She felt it every time she lined up a shot and prepared to take another life. If she allowed herself to examine the feeling, she knew the pleasure was tinged with a deeper emotion: self-loathing. That feeling came from the last lingering vestiges of her former life. Widowmaker wished she could expunge the thoughts and memories of Amélie Lacroix once and for all, but she settled for satisfying herself with her unparalleled skill. “Goodnight, sweet princess,” she muttered in French as she led her shot on the young woman darting from one piece of cover to the next. The young woman thought the cover would save her life. Widowmaker knew otherwise. Breathing easily, the blue-skinned assassin rested her finger on her rifle’s trigger and slowly squeezed.

Widowmaker’s intended target would never know just how lucky she got. If the Omni had yanked the cold-blooded sniper away even a fraction of a second later, it would have been all over for her. Instead, Widowmaker’s tingle of impending pleasure shifted to one of brief but all-consuming pain as she was ripped out of her world and dumped into the perilous territory of the Necropolis. The sudden teleportation came as a surprise to the woman, but her significantly impaired emotions kept her from panicking. Being in the middle of a street uneased her more than the unexpected change of venue, her instincts telling her to get high and get cover. Her long legs carried her out of the road, leaping up onto the top of a car and drawing her grappling hook. She took aim at the three-story apartment building in front of her and fired, catching the hook against the ledge of the roof and enjoying the rush of air breaking over her body as the grappling hook retracted, pulling her upwards.

The assassin moved with speed and efficiency, clearing the roof and confirming she was alone. With her immediate safety no longer a concern, she turned her attention to figuring out where she’d been taken. The how was a puzzle she didn’t care about too much. Widowmaker had given up asking how and why a long time ago. Moving back to the ledge of the roof, she brought her sniper rifle up to her shoulder and looked through the scope, using the magnifier to help scout out the city. The shambling figures she spotted seemed all kinds of wrong to her. They moved awkwardly and some of them possessed damage that should have been fatal, but it didn’t keep them from continuing to move. She didn’t like the city, but its residents – unarmed and uncoordinated – didn’t seem to be much of a threat.

Still not convinced, Widowmaker activated her Infra-Sight. Her eyebrows narrowed with confusion as she spotted no heat signatures in her surrounding area. She didn’t fully understand it, but she was forced to conclude that she was in no immediate danger. Boredom stirred in her even before her Infra-Sight faded. The city was well and truly dead. She would find no satisfaction from it. Even the thought of picking off a few of the shuffling forms down on the street didn’t seem all that interesting to her. She didn’t see them as enemies and they lacked any ability to give her any challenge. Wasting ammo just to prove how good a shot she was seemed pointless. She already knew.

But just because there was nothing worth killing didn’t mean she couldn’t find other means of keeping herself entertained until she found a way out of the weird town. Hopping onto the ledge of the apartment building, she slipped her grappling hook free again and took aim at the office building across the street. It was several stories taller than the apartments, but still well within range of her grapple. Once the hook snagged a firm hold, Widowmaker took a step back before jumping off the side of the apartment building and swinging through the air. The plate glass windows of the office building rushed towards her at a rate that would have been alarming to anyone but her. With smooth perfection, she whipped her rifle up and squeezed off a couple of rounds through the thick glass, reducing its integrity enough to allow her to smash through it and swing her way into the office building with stylish ease.

At least, that had been Widowmaker’s intention.

She smashed through the plate glass window as intended, but her flawless landing was ruined as she collided with a crowd of the city’s listless residents. The overwhelming stench of decay hit her a moment later, causing her to gag. Her stomach lurched again as she found herself staring into the half-rotten face of a balding business manager drooling thick blood and puss down his chin. Widowmaker shoved the man away, not knowing what his problem was and not wanting to find out. She released a sharp scream as she discovered the city’s residents weren’t nearly as harmless as she’d originally suspected. A young secretary who’d been pretty once upon a time had her teeth firmly lodged in her shoulder, drawing blood. The blue-skinned assassin flipped her sniper rifle around and smashed the butt of it into the woman’s gut, forcing her to release her hold and stumble backwards.

Even with her significantly reduced heartrate, the wound on Widowmaker’s shoulder bled profusely. She couldn’t be certain, but the burning she felt seemed unnatural as well. She didn’t have the time to properly examine or tend to her wound. The bite happy bastards had livened up plenty since she’d come crashing into their braindead office party. Turning back towards the shattered window, Widowmaker extended her grappling hook and took aim at the apartment building again. She fired, feeling a small flicker of satisfaction as the hook landed that was obliterated a moment later as the rotting secretary lunged at her again, this time sinking her gnashing teeth into Widowmaker’s forearm. The assassin cried out, losing her grip on her grappling gun at the same time she hit the trigger to retract the cable. She watched with wide eyes as her escape route went shooting out the broken window and across the street, well out of reach.

Letting out a hiss of anger, Widowmaker yanked her hand away from the secretary, wincing as a chunk of her flesh tore away. She backhanded the undead woman across the face before bringing her rifle up. She shoved the barrel under the woman’s chin and squeezed the trigger, sending her brains exploding out of the top of her head. The secretary’s body gave off a frantic series of jerks before flopping back to the floor. Widowmaker snarled out a curse in her native French tongue, turning with her rifle and keeping the trigger held down. The weapon bucked in her hands, blasting out high caliber destruction into the crowd. The gut and torso shots opened up gaping wounds in the office workers, but did little to stop their advance. Widowmaker’s frustration grew as her rifle clicked empty. Before she could reload, three of the zombies wrestled her weapon away from her.

Widowmaker made a grab for her precious rifle, but even as she reached for it, one set of zombies pulled it further away from her while another set converged on her, tackling her to the floor. She grunted as her back hit the rough carpeting, struggling against the undead as they dropped with her. Their hands roughly pawed at her, peeling open the low-cut front of her outfit to completely expose her perky breasts. The balding office manager’s milky eyes fixed on one of the fleshy mounds and lunged towards it, digging his teeth into the sensitive flesh. Widowmaker screamed, trying to twist away from the man as his teeth chewed her nipple off, leaving behind a gaping wound leaking blood and fat.

In spite of her extensive conditioning, Widowmaker felt the first flickers of panic as the zombies managed to tear through the crotch of her bodysuit. She kicked at the groaning creatures, successfully managed to knock a couple away and snap at least one of their necks, but they kept on coming. She grunted as their iron-like grip closed around her ankles and shins, wrenching her long legs into the air and pulling them apart. Her clenched fists punched at them, but the blows did little to deter them. One of the male zombies dropped between Widowmaker’s spread thighs, his rigid prick already freed and aching to feel her sex wrapped around him. He lined himself up with her small, hairless slit and bucked forward, popping the head of his cock into her cool hole and drawing a fresh scream of frustrated pain from the assassin.

Widowmaker’s cunt had been primed for action since the moment she’d started lining up her shot on the young woman just before her abduction. Taking lives was the only means she had to feel anything anymore and it hadn’t taken long for those feelings to take on a sexual nature. She got off on death because it was the only thing she could get off on. But now that particular kink was being used against her. Her semi-lubricated pussy dampened further as the zombie’s pulsing prick bashed its way into her. She felt no shame from her body’s betrayal, knowing all too well that there was nothing she could do to prevent it. But the penetration brought with it an added layer of pain. It had been so very long since she’d shared her body with another person that her cunt had tightened back to a near virginal state. The zombie humping away between her legs seemed to appreciate the added tightness quite a bit, but it made Widowmaker hate the experience all the more.

Unarmed, grounded, and violated, Widowmaker fought back against the group of zombies with everything she had. It didn’t take a genius to know that they weren’t going to let her live. She didn’t have a plan for getting out of the office, but step one required her to get out of range of their clutching hands, chomping teeth, and bucking cocks. Stretching her arms out to the side and behind her, she scrambled for anything solid to grab hold of. She found the leg of a desk and the shoulder of the dead secretary and used both to her advantage, flexing her muscles in an attempt to slide out from underneath the undead man pounding into her snatch.

The zombies didn’t take kindly to their plaything’s attempts at escape. The one plundering the depths of Widowmaker’s snatch clamped his hands down on her slender hips, pinning her to the office floor. The ones not balls deep in the sniper took a more graphic approach to securing she stayed where she was. The front of Widowmaker’s outfit split further open, revealing her slim belly. The blue-skinned woman let out a howl of agony as the zombies dug their fingers into her skin, scratching angry red lines across her smooth skin before breaking through. Lifting her head, Widowmaker stared in horror as coiled lengths of her guts were ripped out of her. She felt a creeping warmth rising up the back of her throat and turned her head to vomit up a torrent of bloody puke.

The walls of Widowmaker’s pussy convulsed wildly as the pain of her disemboweling rolled through her. The zombie fucking her groaned out his appreciation, slamming his full length into her as he dug one of his hands into the gory pit of her belly. His fingers hooked around her fallopian tubes, pulling a significant chunk of the woman’s reproductive system out of her and to his mouth. As he chewed through her ovaries, he reached back in, finding the upper half of his pumping prick and giving it a squeeze. Widowmaker screamed through a throat full of blood as the zombies ripped into and through her. She kept on pulling, caught completely off guard by the panicked desperation she felt.

The balding business manager shoved both of his hands into Widowmaker’s torn gut, feeling through her slippery innards until he found the bony length of her spine. After a few hard tugs, he managed to snap her spinal cord in half. A few final spastic shivers rolled through the assassin’s cunt before it became lifeless. Muscle spasms crept through the woman’s paralyzed legs. With a horrendous wail, Widowmaker used every ounce of strength she had to pull herself away from the group of zombies. Her blue face grew deathly pale from the rapid blood loss. She stared in shock at the lower half of her body, no longer attached to the rest of her. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she crawled backwards as fast as she could, wanting nothing more than to escape the nightmare she’d found herself in. She didn’t feel the shards of broken glass digging into her palms so she never considered what they meant, reaching the ledge of the broken window with enough speed to guarantee she couldn’t keep herself from falling.

Widowmaker sucked in a lungful of air as she felt nothing but open space behind her. Her head swooned with dizziness, both from shock and the sudden grip of gravity yanking her downwards. The horrifying visage of her lower half being raped and devoured left her line of sight, transforming into a bleak night sky. Her hair fluttered as wind rushed over her, what remained of her body quickly picking up speed as it dropped from the sixth floor of the office building. In her final moments, the pain faded, as did the panic, leaving her numb and just a little thankful that her life was finally coming to an end. Her eyes slipped closed and she whispered an apology to her dead husband that ended abruptly as the back of her head smashed into the pavement, sending her eyes shooting from their sockets on a geyser of her pulped brain matter.

A handful of zombies lounging near Widowmaker’s point of impact took notice of her sudden arrival. They shuffled towards the assassin, their guts rumbling with freshly stirred hunger.


Please, more!


Needs more pussy eating. Like actual pussy eating if you know what I mean. =P

As for characters. Fiona Belle from Hunting Grounds, Rei from High School of the Dead, Sinnon from Gungale, Any girl from "School Live", would all be great picks.


Needs more pussy eating. Like actual pussy eating if you know what I mean. =P

As for characters. Fiona Belle from Hunting Grounds, Rei from High School of the Dead, Sinnon from Gungale, Any girl from "School Live", would all be great picks.


Will we see lolis? Maybe Sasami of Tenchi or Pan of Dragonball GT?


Next chapter's gonna post tomorrow.

I'd frankly be amazed if we didn't get down to some proper cunt munching in the not too distant future.

As far as the character mentions go, I can only confirm that none of them have been sponsored yet.


Chapter Three: Bastila Shan

Bastila Shan called upon the Force to sooth her frazzled nerves. The last thing she remembered was drifting off to sleep on board the Ebon Hawk. She’d awoken to find herself in a sprawling tunnel system. The river of waste-filled water flowing through the center of the tunnel was all the evidence she needed to determine she was in some sort of sewage system, probably one that serviced a rather large city, by the looks of it. She considered it rather disturbing that she’d been in enough sewers that she was able to recognize that this particular one was unlike any other. The technology and design being used – although not exactly primitive – seemed altogether different than the sorts used in her reality. Because that was the other thing: Bastila knew – without a doubt – that something had ripped her right out of her reality.

Her link with the Force – usually as natural and comforting as an old friend – felt muted and faded. She couldn’t sense Revan or any of the others. She truly couldn’t sense much, no signs of life. Bastila felt blind, even though there was nothing wrong with her eyes. She kept a steady grip on her lightsaber, thumb resting against the weapon’s ignition button, as her mind wandered, trying to figure out what had happened to her. It wasn’t a dream. She’d always been a vivid dreamer, but she knew her mind well enough to know she was no longer sleeping. She rejected a Sith trap almost as fast, but for vastly different reasons. If the Sith were capable of removing people from reality, Bastila didn’t dare think of what they might do with such power. And as good as I am, I doubt they’d use it just to take me out, the Jedi thought.

But that was the problem. As far as Bastila knew, she hadn’t been the only one removed from her reality. Everyone and everything she knew or cared for could have been so much void. She paused, sucking in a deep breath and letting her eyes slip closed, falling into a meditative trance for roughly thirty seconds. Her mind calmed as she contemplated the certainty that she had far more questions than answers and that focusing on those questions did her little good. She assured herself that if anyone could handle the bizarre situation, it was her and that, regardless of the cause of her sudden transportation, she would find her way home no matter what the cost.

Feeling a good deal calmer, Bastila opened her eyes and continued through the sewer. Her first goal was to get out of the underground area. Presumably, there might be someone in the city above that might be able to give her answers or at least lend their assistance. The odds of running into anyone in the sewer system seemed fairly low. Rounding a bend in the tunnel, Bastila lifted a curious eyebrow as she was immediately proven wrong. A man in a bright orange vest and yellow helmet stood about halfway down the tunnel, knee-deep in the muck. That was the first clue Bastila had that something about the man was off. She knew it would take a very good reason for her to go spelunking in the waste and, judging by how the man simply stood there, he didn’t appear to have any reason at all for it.

“Sir?” Bastila called, keeping her lightsaber ready. “Do you need assistance?” She smirked, unable to ignore the absurdity of the situation. Leave it to me to get teleported into a whole new reality and find a stray who needs more help than I do, she thought. Her smirk faded as the maintenance worker slowly turned towards her, legs sloshing through the filthy water. Although she knew nothing of the new world she’d been brought to, she doubted anything that looked as deformed and decayed as the man was friendly. She’d seen plenty of devious looking aliens who were friendly and downright charming, but she had no interest in getting to know the ghoulish thing before her. She reached out with the Force, trying to sense it. At first, she felt nothing. Then a wave of blinding agony, ravenous hunger, and all-consuming lust shot through her. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she blocked herself form the thing’s horrid Force aura and triggered the vibrant yellow blades of her double-sided lightsaber. “Why is nothing ever simple?” she muttered.

Attacking an unarmed man felt wrong, but in the brief glimpse she’d gotten inside the thing’s head, Bastila knew that whatever she faced was no man. Perhaps it had been, once, but whatever life it had once possessed had been scooped out and replaced with something that – for lack of a better concept – could only be described as pure evil. Even the Sith did not possess such utter darkness within them. As strange as it felt, Bastila found herself grateful that the man lacked any form of weaponry. She suspected she would need all of the help she could get in order to survive the hellish creature, especially if there were others like it lurking within the sewers.

The undead maintenance worker stomped towards Bastila, sloshing through the water and reaching his clenching hands towards her. His mouth hung open, groaning out with a deep yearning that the distinct bulge in the crotch of his pants shared. The man’s hollowed eye sockets leaked a steady stream of greenish black ichor, although his blindness didn’t seem to deter him from being able to track Bastila as she sidestepped her way around him. The shining brightness of her lightsaber didn’t seem to bother him much, either, even when she slashed out at him and lopped off one of his arms. The hunk of meat and bone plopped into the water and sank out of sight, but the man didn’t recoil in pain. He just kept on reaching for the Jedi.

Bastila had no interest in prolonging the fight, especially considering the way the creature continued to groan and wail. The disturbing sound of its voice echoed off the walls of the tunnel. So far, she’d only seen the one, but if there were any more of the things in the sewers, the noise would certainly draw them down right on top of her. With a spin, Bastila struck out at the zombie again, this time cleaving it in half across the waist. The upper half of the man’s body slid backwards and dropped into the water, single arm continuing to thrash about as he sank beneath the surface. It happened fast, but Bastila still noticed how the thing remained alive despite his bisection.

The Jedi wasn’t given long to contemplate the sort of terrifying power that could bestow such monstrosities with apparent eternal life. A rumbling tremor rolled through the tunnel, causing the sewage to ripple. “Blast,” Bastila muttered, looking up and down the tunnel in search of the source of the disturbance and spotted an advancing wave of fetid water. Her eyes shot wide as she saw the thing rushing along behind the wave. She’d seen Hutts that were skinnier than the hulking, bulbous creature. It vaguely resembled a man, although it was obscenely bloated. Its skin glistened with sludge and, unlike the maintenance worker, it was completely nude. The thing’s throbbing erection emerged from the water not unlike the most perverted shark fin ever imagined, pressing firmly into the bottom of the thing’s expansive gut. Its head looked like a hairless, tumor-like growth emerging from its broad shoulders, with a mouth stretching obscenely wide across the lower half of its face and tiny, pin-prick eyes shimmering in the low light.

Bastila turned to face the Big Man, setting her feet firmly and holding her lightsaber on front of her. Despite its sizeable bulk and the water sloshing all around it, the thing closed the distance to her in surprisingly little time. With a yell, she swung the shimmering blade of her lightsaber towards the thing, carving a scorching slash up across its belly. The Big Man’s flesh split open, spilling out a heavy wave of greasy slop. The stench of the monster’s stomach contents that struck Bastila felt like running a speeder bike into a tree at full speed. She retched and stumbled backwards, tears stinging her eyes as she did her best to breathe through her mouth. She glimpsed some solid chunks within the wet slop pouring out of the Big Man’s split belly, recognizing a stained skull and a partially dissolved foot.

Something that looked like a thick length of tripe shot out of the Big Man’s gaping slash wound with blinding speed. Bastila barely had time to react, bringing her lightsaber up and twisting it to the side to lop off the searching tip of the hose-like growth. The Big Man’s mouth shot open wide, releasing a roar of annoyed pain as three more of the intestinal lassos whipped out of his belly. Bastila jumped back, hacking and slashing with her lightsaber in an attempt to keep the tendrils away from her. She very nearly succeeded, too focused on the lengths stretching towards her face and arms to notice the one that had slipped underneath the surface of the sludge until it looped around her ankle. “No!” she yelled, attempting to bring her lightsaber down to free herself from the intestine’s tight grip. Before she could, the viscera retracted, yanking her off balance. The Jedi’s heart leapt into her throat as her fingers slipped away from her lightsaber’s hilt. The twin-bladed weapon flew into the air, spinning end over end. She flinched and twisted away, narrowly avoiding having her beautiful face carved in half by her own glowing blade.

Bastila regretted her instinctive act of self-preservation almost immediately as she splashed into the river of sewage. The wretched sludge soaked through her clothing in moments, but that was nothing compared to the mouthful of the waste that she very nearly swallowed. The tainted water stung her eyes, further disorienting her as the Big Man tugged her flailing form along underneath the surface. More lengths of his animated guts dove into the water and converged on the squirming bit of prey he had caught, snaring her other leg, her arms, and looping around her waist. Bastila sucked in a much needed lungful of air as the Big Man yanked her up out of the water, only to release it as a horrified scream as she found herself being pulled into the creature’s split gut.

A dozen more fleshy tendrils converged on Bastila, looping around her and pulling her deeper into the Big Man’s belly. The Jedi struggled to stretch her hand and draw her lightsaber towards her, but the already weakened hold she had on the Force paired with her terror sealed her fate. She became mashed tightly into the Big Man’s gut, writhing lengths of tripe squirming along every inch of her body. She twisted her head around far enough to look back over her shoulder, screaming again as she saw the scorched lips of the wound she’d given the thing closing back up behind her. “No, please!” she shrieked, kicking and squirming as best she could, but finding it impossible to break free of the slippery viscera squeezing so tightly around her. Bastila panted heavily, panic rushing through her as the two sides of the wound met and merged back together, leaving her trapped within the obese monster.

As soon as the Big Man had his treat sealed within him, he went to work on her. His intestines rubbed against her body as his stomach juices soaked through her clothing. Bastila fell into frantic sobs, acutely aware of how the juices made her skin tingle. She twisted her shoulders from side to side and squirmed her hands through the living viscera, trying to find some means of escape. She curled her fingers and gritted her teeth, silently screaming for her lightsaber to come to her. She didn’t even care of it carved through her on its way through the creature. A quick death seemed vastly preferable to whatever the Big Man intended to do to her.

Bastila’s clothing sloshed off of her in soggy clumps, her naked flesh itching terribly as the Big Man’s stomach acids diligently ate away at her. Her eyes bulged with sickened horror as one of the lengths of intestine looped around her thigh before shoving its thick tip against her exposed crotch. The small patch of pubic hair she had sizzled away as dribbles of bile flowed over them before burning away at her sensitive labial folds. The Jedi let out a horrified grunt as the thick slab of gut wedged itself into her cunt, filling her up in the most terrible way. Two more fleshy lengths latched onto her perky breasts, applying a disturbing suction to her aching nipples. Bastila screamed and wailed until a piece of intestine slid around her elegant throat and punched its way into her gaping mouth.

The Big Man let out a bubbly chuckle as he turned to lumber his way back to the area of the sewer he called home. As he felt the morsel squirming within him, feeling her hot cunt clenching around his intestinal tendril, he stretched one arm down around his jiggling belly to grip his massive erection. He stroked along the veiny length as he moved, timing his strokes to the rhythm of the intestine pumping away at Bastila’s pussy. He’d only just begun processing her, but already she tasted far better than the handful of unlucky zombies he’d consumed so far. And, unlike the living dead, she kept on fighting against him, providing pleasant tingles with each kick or squirm she made within his ravenous gut.

Bastila’s sinuses burned from the stale, humid air within the Big Man’s stomach cavity. The walls of her throat felt scorched from the stomach juices leaking from the length of trip fucking her face. With little hope left, the Jedi took a depressing bit of thankfulness for the fact that the juices had melted away her taste buds fairly rapidly. Even so, it didn’t make it any easier to swallow the liquefied chunks of her tongue as they rolled down the back of her throat. The guts attached to Bastila’s chest sucked her tits away completely, strips of skin and chunks of yellowed fat pouring down their lengths. Her slender abs bulged outwards as the intestine fucking her rammed its way into her with growing force, searing its way through her cervix and into her uterus. Her feet – resting in the rising pool of juices at the bottom of the Big Man’s belly – had already been stripped down to the bone.

As the Big Man’s pleasure grew, so did the flow of stomach acid within his squirming, Jedi-filled belly. Bastila’s skin slid away from glistening muscle just as her clothing had slid away from her body. Clumps of half-melted hair and scalp rolled off her head and across her partially dissolved shoulders. The tripe tendril pounding into her cunt ripped through the woman’s gut like wet tissue paper. One of her legs fell away at the knee with a series of soft pops. Fingernails peeled back as she uselessly clawed at the inside of the Big Man’s stomach, her movements becoming less and less coordinated as the inescapable agony ate away at her consciousness just as efficiently as it ate away at her body.

The Big Man jerked his slippery cock faster, his fat balls drawing tight with impending release. He let out an impressive bellow that echoed down the tunnel as he came, spraying creamy spunk out into the sewage. The doomed Jedi woman could only manage a far less impressive gurgle as the creature’s massive belly filled with digestive enzymes, rapidly dissolving what remained of her in a handful of seconds and leaving behind nothing more of Bastila Shan than a chunky, nutrient-rich soup that the Big Man would absorb at his leisure.


What happened to your stories on Adult FanFiction?


>>8594 deleted them because SailorNemesis got "muy triggered" like a tumblrina over his snuff fics.


Bugger. They were good stories.



Yep, nuked the AFF account due to bullshittery and not feeling like dealing with it. Good news, though! Everything I had posted on AFF (plus more) can be found on the Depravity Repository forum.


You are invited to join a guro / snuff community on Discord that I feel you will enjoy.


Chapter Four: Psylocke

Psylocke rubbed at her temple, trying to sooth the pounding migraine she’d had since her spontaneous arrival in the dead city. She took out her persistent head pain on the shambling husks of stinking meat intent on biting and fucking her. It was obvious the walking corpses had been real people once. She felt pangs of regret with each one she was forced to slice her katana through, wishing she had some means of dealing with the situation that didn’t involve murdering countless fathers, mothers, even children. She tried to console herself with the near certainty that whatever had been done to the people could not be reversed – that bringing them a swift death was some kind of mercy – but she couldn’t ignore the fact that the more of them she skilled, the worse her head hurt.

Shoving the tip of her bloodstained blade through the eye of a former school teacher, Psylocke winced as a fresh spark of agony shot through her own head. The throb came from just behind her eye, the same eye she’d just stabbed through on the zombie. It was far too specific to be coincidence. Kicking the twitching carcass to the ground, the mutant woman sheathed her weapon and darted for a nearby convenience store. The front window was smashed in, but the shop looked devoid of undead activity. Hopping inside, she headed towards the rear of the store, snagging a bottle of water from one of the dead fridges along the way. She twisted the cap off and tossed it aside, bringing the bottle to her lips and chugging half of it down in several large gulps.

Psylocke was thankful that the little office in the back of shop was empty. She pulled the door closed behind her and circled around the desk, flopping into the seat behind it. She sucked down most of the rest of the water before dumping the last of it over her head. Even at room temperature, the water felt refreshing against her flushed skin. She took a breath, whimpering slightly as the pain in her head spiked briefly before softening. Without the ravenous undead clawing at her every step of the way, she could take a moment to analyze exactly why she was in so much pain. Closing her eyes, she focused through the pain and stretched her psychic muscles.

The pain worsened again, but Psylocke was left with no doubts as to where it was coming from. It had nothing to do with anything physically wrong with her. The residents of the city were truly dead, but each and every one of them screamed out on the psychic plane. Fragments of their former selves remained, trapped in an eternal suffering the likes of which she’d never thought possible. Those same fragments were still connected on some level to their physical forms. Each time she’d killed one the pain had been transferred to the psyches and then doubled back onto her.

With the source of her problem revealed, Psylocke breathed a sigh of relief. She could close herself off from the psychic plane and greatly reduce, if not altogether remove, the pain pounding away in her head. Taking a few more deep breaths, the mutant woman closed her eyes and put herself into a meditative trance, slowly and carefully shutting down her abilities. Once the migraine subsided, she could focus on figuring out who or what had teleported her into the city. The tenseness in her muscles faded as she drifted deeper into the trance, feeling the screaming voices of the millions of dead fading away. As they did, she sensed something else that caused her stomach to churn uneasily. Before she could re-think her decision, Psylocke decided to give it a mental prodding.

A single, miniscule prod was all it took to seal Psylocke’s fate. Her eyes snapped open, teeth grinding together as she screamed through them. Her body shuddered within the office chair as the full force of the malevolent entity responsible for the city’s death and her unwanted teleportation crashed down on her, punishing her severely for her brash actions. Her arms flopped as she shuddered in the seat, eyes rolling back and drool spraying through her teeth. The Omni ripped the mutant woman’s consciousness out, absorbing it, digesting it, and shoving it back into her as a corrupted, tangled mess. Psylocke sucked in a deep gasp, flinging herself forward and clutching at the desk as she was released from the terrible grip of the consciousness.

Psylocke lay slumped over the desk, eyes staring blankly as her mind reset. The Omni hadn’t stolen her life, like it had to the rest of the Necropolis, but it might as well have. Her eyelids drifted closed and then opened, suddenly seeing the world in a whole new light. She pushed herself up, looking around the office with a dull, vacant expression on her face. Gradually, she felt more and more like herself, but she could not recall where she was or why she was there. Psylocke stumbled out of the office and out into the wrecked convenience store. She grabbed a Twinkie on her way towards the exit, ripping open the wrapper and shoving half of it into her mouth. “Sorry, sir,” she muttered to the shop owner she saw through her clouded vision. “I can’t pay for it right now, but I swear, I’ll come back later.” The man simply nodded and gave her a friendly wave. Sometimes it paid to be a superhero.

Chewing through the tasty, sugar-filled pastry, Psylocke returned to the ruined streets of the Necropolis. It was a beautiful day, at least through her eyes. She couldn’t recall which town she was in, but the people all looked so happy, strolling up and down the streets with smiles on their faces and skips in their step. Psylocke shared their smile, starting down the sidewalk as she enjoyed her snack. She rounded a corner and stopped dead in her tracks, eyes going wide and mouth gaping open. A small bit of gooey, half-chewed Twinkie rolled over her lip, the sticky cream feeling clinging to the inside of one of her large breasts.

“Scott?” she gasped, her corrupted vision transforming the broad-shouldered zombie into the man she’d not-so-secretly desired for years. The undead young man had been on the verge of a full ride football scholarship just before the Omni chose to murder his world. Aside from his stereotypical, hunky good looks, he didn’t look much like Scott Summers, but Psylocke’s brain ignored the differences, and the rot of his flesh. Her loins tingled with the same irresistible desire the zombies felt and before she knew it, she’d dropped the half-eaten Twinkie and darted up to the undead quarterback. She draped her arms against his shoulders, sparkling eyes looking up at him with open lust. “I can’t look away any longer,” she told him. “I don’t care about Jean or all the reasons we can’t be together. I want you, Scott.” She reached down and grabbed hold of his crotch, laughing as she felt him already hard and ready for her. “And I know you want me.”

Psylocke winced and whimpered as a spark of pain wiggled through her head. The world briefly shifted back to reality in her eyes, but in an instant, it returned to her version of normal. Her arousal spiked and she shoved her head forward, locking lips with Scott and swirling her tongue into his mouth. The corruption of her psyche masked the putrid taste of the undead man’s mouth from her. She gave no thought to the fact that they were standing out on a public street as she pulled him over against the wall of the nearest building. Breaking the kiss, Psylocke ripped open Scott’s shirt and leaned in to kiss and lick across his chest. She nipped her teeth against his nipples, grinning as she heard him groan in response. Stepping back, the dazed mutant woman squirmed her hands up into the sleeveless, skin-tight outfit she wore and up to her neck, pushing it down to reveal her perfect breasts to him. She cupped the hefty weight of the large mounds of flesh and jiggled them for his appreciation, laughing as she caught the fixed, almost hungry gaze he leveled on her chest.

“Don’t be shy,” she purred, moving closer and hooking a hand behind Scott’s head. She guided him down to her chest and moaned as he slurped at one of her nipples, drawing it to stiff attention. She rubbed harder at his crotch, tracing her fingers along the rigid length of his erection and pleasantly amazed by just how thick it was. Shoving her hand down the front of his pants, she gripped his girth and pumped along his length as he suckled at her breast. Psylocke cried out, the crotch of her uniform soaking through with her juices as Scott’s teeth dug into the tender meat of her tit. A thigh-quaking orgasm ripped through her as he bit down harder, ripping away a nice chunk of her soft meat.

Blood and chunks of fat dribbled from the bite wound, but Psylocke took no notice. Her lust demanded further satisfaction. She pulled Scott’s erection free of his pants and dropped to her knees before him, slurping him into her mouth and bobbing her head rapidly along his length. The stench of his rotting prick filled her nostrils and inspired her to rub at her pussy through the crotch of her uniform. She squeezed her bitten breast, fingering at the wound as her cheeks hollowed inwards, sucking hard on Scott’s erection until she had him on the cusp of release. Popping her lips free, she pulled him down to the sidewalk with her, shoving him onto his back and tugging aside the crotch of her uniform as she climbed on top of him. Holding his dick steady, Psylocke squatted onto him, crying out as his hard, cold meat filled her hot, wet slit.

Psylocke rode Scott hard and fast. Her plump tits jumped and jiggled, flinging droplets of blood and lumpy bits of fat onto the zombie quarterback’s chest and face. The dead man stared up at the exotic beauty bouncing on his cock with milky-eyed awe. His cock twitched within her, squirting watery seed into her clenching pussy, but remained hard. He reached up to paw at her rippling tit flesh, shifting his hips as best he could to meet her downward plunges. The young dead man let out an annoyed growl as he spotted a couple other zombies moving in on the gorgeous sex goddess pleasuring him, but he could do nothing to stop them.

Psylocke let out a shocked gasp followed by a playful giggle as she looked to either side of her at the new arrivals. “Logan,” she purred. “Bobby. I guess you want a piece, too, huh?” She didn’t hesitate to pull their erections out and started to jerk them off. She kept up the speed of her bouncing, leaning from one side and then the other to suck the two men off. Sweat poured out of her, both from the exertion of the spirited sex as well as the infectious bite her lover had given her. The pain returned as the plague of the undead ravaged her from within, shutting down her organs and rebooting them with a darker purpose. She cringed as the pain worsened, but fought back against it by grinding her snatch against Scott’s crotch. Sucking Logan’s cock fully down her throat, she dropped her free hand down to her crotch, wiggling her fingers against her aching clit.

As the infection spread, it proved to be the only thing capable of shaking away the psychic corruption the Omni had caused. She was in the midst of chugging down Logan’s icy cum as she blinked and her vision cleared. The pungent stench of decay assaulted her and her mind recoiled in horror as she realized where she was and what she was doing. The realization was short lived and ultimately pointless as it came in the last moment of Psylocke’s life. Her body slumped lifelessly on top of the zombie quarterback, head pressed against the crotch of the one fucking her face as the light blinked out of her eyes.

Roughly thirty seconds after she died, Psylocke released a choked groan as unholy animation took control of her. Her milky eyes shifted unsteadily for a few moments before her head pulled back. She sat on top of the undead football player for a few moments, adjusting to her new role and then resumed her spirited bouncing. A ravenous hunger grew in her churning belly. Soon, she would join the rest of the Necropolis’s population in their unending search for fresh meat. But in the meantime, she was perfectly content to continue fucking. Psylocke let out a pleased growl as one of the other zombies crouched behind her and poked his cock against her puckered sphincter.


Chapter Five: Rey

Rey didn’t know much about the Force, especially her potential strength in wielding it, but it had been a part of her since the day she’d been born. If only on a subconscious level, she’d been aware of it. The sudden removal of it didn’t affect her quite as strongly as it had Bastila Shan, but she did notice. It was easy for her to attribute the persistent chill she felt to the lower temperature within the decrepit city she’d been abruptly transported into. Finding herself amidst a group of seven zombies with nothing more than her quarterstaff to defend herself, Rey had greater problems than the sudden chill to worry about.

Broken fingernails clawed at Rey’s heavy, constricting clothing. Designed to keep the sands of Jakku from getting in and chaffing against her skin, the tough fabric worked just as effectively as light armor against the zombies’ scrambling hands. It wouldn’t hold up forever, but it lasted more than long enough for Rey to counter their pawing with a devastating attack of her own. Bringing the staff up, she jabbed it forward against the side of one of the zombies, flexing outwards to send the rotting man flying backwards. His back shattered against the top of a fire hydrant before his body flipped up and over it, landing in a heap on the sidewalk.

Taking advantage of the opening in the group, Rey darted out of range of the six remaining zombies. She spun back towards them, bringing her staff up and slamming the end of it across the back of one’s neck. The zombie’s head shot back, skin stretching and ripping as the force of the blow decapitated it. The headless body stumbled and fell against another of its undead companions, slowing it down enough for Rey to follow up her swing with a hard jab that caved in the second zombie’s forehead. She drew her staff free of the head, the tip of it covered in gooey, foul smelling gore, and shifted her focus to the four remaining corpses shuffling towards her.

With a defiant yell, Rey charged the four zombies, snapping, thrusting, and slashing her staff until they all lay twitching and properly dead at her feet. Panting lightly, the nineteen-year-old took the time to give her bizarre surroundings a proper survey. Compared to Jakku, the place seemed to be a stunning metropolis of technological advance. The towering structures surrounding her made it impossible to see the horizon and left her feeling a little claustrophobic. She had no idea where she was, why she’d been brought there, how she’d gotten there, or who’d transporter her. The cacophony of hungry moans echoing off the building walls told her that she’d not likely find any answers from the rotting residents of the city. Turning towards the loudest of the sounds, she spotted another pack of the things heading towards her as fast as their atrophied muscles would allow.

Rey hadn’t survived on a less-than-friendly, frontier world by refusing to run from a fight, but after the ease of dispatching the seven initial zombies, she didn’t see much point in turning tail just yet. Running blindly through the city didn’t make much strategic sense, either. She was just as likely to blunder into an even deadlier adversary by doing that. So she turned towards the second batch of undead and readied her staff, sliding into a confident fighting stance. Back on Jakku, she’d seen fellow scavengers devolve into things not too different from the things she faced now. Dismayed by their lot in life, they turned to blending together whatever chemical and organic components they could to craft dangerous drugs. A lot of the scavengers died outright, but she’d seen more than a few lose their minds, becoming little more than insane shells who felt no pain and subsisted on anything they could shove into their mouths, including other scavengers.

Thankfully, unlike the times she’d had to defend herself against a feral addict, Rey spotted no familiar faces amidst the crowd of walking corpses trying to get a piece of her. It made killing the things a little easier, as did the dullness of their eyes. They were alive only via technicality. Judging by some of the wounds some of them possessed, even that made little sense to her. She learned fast as she slapped and smashed the zombies down that unless she destroyed their brains they could still be dangerous. Their skulls weren’t too tough to crack through, making it even easier for her to dispatch them in a timely manner.

Focusing on one to three zombies at a time, Rey neglected to notice the multitude of other shuffling corpses drawn towards her. She realized her mistake when a cold, clammy hand clamped down on her shoulder from behind. Jerking her staff backwards, she slammed the end of it into the zombie’s gut, glancing behind herself to see that more of the things had closed in behind her. Stuck in the middle of the street, there weren’t many options for cover or escape. The group crowding in from behind her wasn’t as thick as the ones in front of her, but after beating down the first scattered line of living corpses, she found even more waiting just behind them. Fear crept into Rey as she realized the full extent of her fatal misjudgment. If she wanted a shot at figuring out what the hell was going on, she needed to get away from the growing horde and off the streets.

The task was easier said than done. The zombies died easy, but their numbers were overwhelming. Unlike Rey, they didn’t seem to have to worry about stamina or fatigue. She leapt and swung her staff, twisting from one side to the next in an attempt to keep the things as far back from her as she could. The young woman let out a startled yell as she tripped over one of the many corpses littering the ground. She tried to turn and regain her balance, but only managed to twist her ankle. Jolting pain shot up her left leg, forcing another yell past her lips as she collapsed to the gore-drenched street, faceplanting into the torn gut of one of the dead zombies. Partially congealed blood clung to her beautiful face as she lifted her head, holding down the vomit eager to come spewing out of her as the stench of the rotting corpse filled her nostrils.

Rey rolled onto her back in time to watch one of the zombies drop on top of her. Ignoring the throbbing from her ankle, she yanked her staff in front of her, holding it sideways to block the undead man. He strained his head forward, gnashing his teeth a couple inches from her face. Flecks of stale saliva and blood stained her sweaty face as she flexed her lean muscles and worked her uninjured leg up between herself and the zombie. Planting the sole of her foot against the zombie’s midsection, Rey kicked outwards and sent the creature shooting off of her. It was the smallest of victories and – over the course of securing it – the zombies had closed in tighter around her. The skyscraper-induced claustrophobia didn’t seem nearly as bad now that so many undead bodies were grouped so close around her. She couldn’t even see the dark sky above, her vision filled with nothing but rotten faces leering down at her.

Three of the zombies worked together to tug Rey’s staff out of her grip. She let out an urgent groan, grabbing for the weapon as it was hoisted up and carried well out of reach. With nothing else to defend herself with, she couldn’t do much to block the next zombie that dropped on top of her. His rotten breath washed over her face as his hands pawed at her chest. Rey tried to shove the zombie off of her and wound up with her thumb slipping into his gaping mouth. She screamed as the zombie’s jaw snapped shut, teeth chomping into the digit and chewing it free. Hot blood pumped steadily from the ragged stump left behind as the zombie swallowed her thumb.

More zombies dropped down around Rey, their undead flesh squeezing close together so they could all reach out for her. Hopelessly pinned to the road, she could do nothing as they persistently tugged and tore at her clothing, managing to get through the tough fabric and slowly reveal more and more of her lithe form as she squirmed beneath them. Although she did her best to keep herself bundled up against Jakku’s harsh sun, distinct tan lines separated Rey’s body between areas that got sun and areas that almost never did. Her firm breasts were shockingly pale and tipped with soft brown, quarter-sized areolae. The zombies clawed at her, ripping away more shreds of clothing and leaving behind dark red scratches against her skin.

Rey’s arms were yanked out to her sides, providing easy access for a number of the zombies to start chewing their way through her flesh. Rey screamed, eyes bulging as she felt herself being ripped apart one bloody chunk at a time. The zombie lying on top of her managed to yank her left leg up, bending it back and resting it against his shoulder as his fingers fumbled to rip open the crotch of her outfit. The fabric held up as best it could, but it wasn’t long before it came away. The underwear underneath lasted even less time, coming away to reveal Rey’s cunt. The undead man’s milky eyes flared with lust, hastily tugging open his own pants to allow his throbbing erection to spring free.

Keeping Rey’s right leg pinned to the ground and her left bent back, the zombie leaned further over her and angled his cock at her vulnerable slit. The young woman shrieked as the thick member shoved its way into her dry hole. The pain wasn’t quite as bad as the gnashing teeth chewing the muscle tissue away from her arms and cracking their way through the bones of her fingers, but the violation brought with it humiliation and disgust. Growing up an orphan on Jakku, Rey was no stranger to the dangers of sexual assault, but she’d always managed to save herself before it went too far. She wasn’t nearly as lucky this time around. Wincing with each forceful thrust the zombie made into her, Rey tried desperately to flex her leg and force him off of her. Dislodging a single zombie wouldn’t have been too difficult, but there were at least four others packed in so close behind the one raping her that it was like pushing out against a solid wall.

Rey’s hot snatch clenched around the zombie’s pounding prick, unintentionally massaging it and urging it closer and closer towards release. One of the many undead converging on her managed to squirm his head under the arm of another zombie so he could clamp his teeth down around the woman’s left nipple. Rey’s screams rose in pitch as the sensitive nub was painfully chewed away from her chest. Blood and fat oozed from the open wound left behind. Another zombie clawed at her right tit, scratching across the pale mound of firm flesh until he managed to rip away a chunk of her meat. Between the two zombies, it didn’t take long for Rey’s less than bountiful bosom to be reduced to bloody scraps. The one clawing at her worked his fingers into the cramped space between her ribs, tugging roughly until the bone snapped and came away.

The zombies diligently chewing their way through Rey’s arm finally managed to rip the limb away from her body entirely. They pulled the mangled arm upwards, ripping through what remained of it. The young woman’s incessant screams transformed into wet gurgles as one of the creatures chomped a chunk out of her smooth throat. Her mouth gaped open, wide eyes filled with pained terror as she choked on her hot blood. Tears flowed down her cheeks as the zombie hammering into her groaned and pumped his seed deep into her shivering pussy. Snapping and crunching filled the air as more of her ribs were ripped out of her, exposing her stuttering lungs and rapidly beating heart. Her slim stomach ripped open under the persistent clawing of three ravenous undead men. Her steaming innards were pulled out of the gaping wound as her legs kicked and twitched. One of the zombies pressed up close behind the one raping her bit his way through her boot and tore away a couple of her wiggling toes.

Rey slumped into a lifeless husk as the zombie on top of her managed to scoot back far enough to pull his prick free of her lightly twitching cunt. Cupping his hand under her firm buttocks, he lifted her crotch higher into the air and craned his neck downwards to take a sizeable bite from her cum-leaking sex. The young woman’s body shifted as the zombies continued to tear through her, efficiently stripping the meat away from her bones and filling their ever-hungry guts. The zombie who’d ripped open the girl’s throat moved upwards, chewing his way through one tear-soaked cheek as he squirmed his finger into her slackened mouth to rip out her tongue. One glassy eye exploded as another zombie rammed his thumb into the socket, using the hole for leverage as it cracked open the top of her skull to feast on the squishy brains trapped within.

The feeding frenzy lasted for nearly an hour after Rey died. By the end of it, there wasn’t much left of the young woman. Some shattered, gnawed on bones and a greasy smear of blood across the asphalt were all that remained of her. One of the more persistent zombies dragged his bloated tongue across the road, lapping up the thick crimson fluid, while the rest of them dispersed from the point of Rey’s graphic demise. Slowly, the Necropolis returned to an eerily calm state as the deadly, depraved creatures dwelling within the city eagerly awaited their next plaything.


Idk who sesami is but Goku's (great-?)granddaughter would be fine.


nice stories as always Deathstalker o/


>>8922 Thanks! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter, too.

Chapter Six: Emma Frost

Emma Frost blinked into the Necropolis roughly two minutes after Rey’s gruesome end. She found herself in the same convenience store Psylocke had taken brief refuge in, although she had no way of knowing that. She blinked slowly, confused as to whether or not she was still asleep. She couldn’t recall her dreams ever stinking so badly. Emma let out a pained yelp as her bare foot came down on a piece of broken jar, slicing herself open. She bounced on one foot while curling her other leg upwards, grabbing hold of the shard and yanking it free. A steady flow of blood dribbled from the open wound, confirming she was no longer asleep in the safety and comfort of her bed.

Emma wasn’t given much time to ponder her surprising situation and how it had come to be. Her yelp had been loud enough to draw the attention of a handful of the crowd of zombies shuffling around outside. The scent of her blood cut through the pervasive stench of rot, gaining the unwanted attention of the undead from a much greater radius. Even the couple of zombies still licking at the blood-greased pavement where Rey had been devoured lifted their heads and set their murky eyes on the nearby convenience store. The bulk of the zombies in the area were pleasantly full of the Force adept young woman’s masticated remains, but they had another urge eager to be satisfied. They rushed the shop as fast as their rotting muscles would allow, excited to find another victim so soon after the last.

The rate at which the zombies poured into the convenience store was shocking. Before Emma knew it, she was hopelessly trapped at the rear of the shop. Confused and worried, but nowhere near beaten, she shifted into her diamond form as the first of the things grabbed hold of her arm. The chomping teeth told her they were a bite-happy bunch and she doubted she’d enjoy the experience of being chewed on by the foul-smelling people. She made a brief attempt to assert her mental dominance over the horde, but quickly found no minds to overpower and control. Emma released a resigned sigh as she realized she would have to brute force her way through the problem. She yanked her arm away from the zombie gripping it and punched his head clean off his shoulders, slowly working her way forward.

Even with her super strength, Emma found it difficult to shove and beat her way through the tightly packed mass of undead flesh. They pushed back against her, stretching their heads forward and making constant but futile attempts to chew into her. Their stained teeth cracked and shattered against her diamond skin, but even that didn’t stop them from trying. Brownish drool flowed over various parts of her as more and more of the zombies gummed along her shoulders and arms. One very bold zombie broke his jaw in an attempt to chomp through a mouthful of one of Emma’s hardened breasts. He received a prompt uppercut that shot his head into the air for his efforts. Emma stepped over his fallen form on her way towards the shop’s entrance.

Seeing past the densely packed group of undead was difficult, but each step Emma took brought her closer to some sort of freedom. Her forward momentum halted as she finally caught sight of the threshold leading out onto the street, or – more specifically – who was looming within the threshold. Emma recognized Psylocke immediately. The relief at finding another X-Woman in the hostile locale didn’t even have a chance to rise within her before she realized she would get no help from Psylocke. The woman’s uniform was mostly in tatters, leaving the majority of her voluptuous form exposed and giving Emma a clear view of her splotchy, grey skin. Psylocke’s eyes held the same murky un-life as the rest of the zombies filling the shop. Partially congealed blood clung to the underside of one breast, leaking from the missing chunk of flesh. A steady flow of tainted cum dribbled down the insides of her thighs as the undead X-Woman pushed her way through the crowd towards Emma.

The nameless faces she’d been punching her way through had been disturbing to Emma, but she’d been too wrapped up in escaping to really focus on the reality of what she was doing, who she might be killing. Finding Psylocke transformed into just another one of the mindless husks sent a jolt of horror through her. It wasn’t as if she’d been very close to Psylocke, largely due to the unspoken rivalry most telepaths shared, but she’d only rarely wished something awful to happen to the woman and she’d even more rarely been serious about it. Emma was certain she was a stronger telepath than Psylocke had ever been, but she had no illusions about which of them was the better fighter. The fact that whatever evil had infested the city had claimed her didn’t bode well for her. Emma gathered her strength and began to mentally prepare herself for pummeling Psylocke’s face into gooey mush.

Emma’s fatal mistake was assuming Psylocke had become nothing more than another of the zombies shuffling through the Necropolis. The Omni had been annoyed by her psychic prodding, but it had also sensed her potential. Now that she was fully within its sphere of influence, it had no problem maximizing her psychic capabilities. By all rights, Emma should have been psychically shielded in her diamond form. But the truth was her diamond form simply hadn’t faced a psychic force great enough to put a dent in it. A purple aura formed around Psylocke’s body, strengthening into a blinding beacon before shooting its way through the group of zombies between her and Emma. The buxom blonde’s diamond form didn’t dent. It shattered.

Emma let out a shocked scream as her flesh was abruptly exposed. Instead of punching a fist-sized hole through the undead man in front of her, she only bruised her knuckles. “Wha..?” she gasped, terrified confusion washing over her as she tried to comprehend what had happened. The moment of distraction was all the zombies needed to grab hold of the woman. She struggled against their hands, trying to break free. One of the zombies hooked his fingers down the front of her lingerie, splitting the already deep cleavage open further to allow her plump tits to bounce free. Emma instinctively brought a hand up to shield her naked flesh, but it was a brief, insignificant victory as the rest of the undead monstrosities wrestled her down to the floor.

Psylocke slid through the crowd of zombies with relative ease, the lesser creatures responding instinctively to her presence. She looked down on Emma’s pinned and spread open form with a bestial hunger, releasing a raspy groan as she dropped to her knees between the blonde’s parted thighs. Her fingernails hooked into Emma’s lacey white panties, pealing them aside to expose her cunt. She dropped her head down, dragging her tongue across Emma’s slit and sliding it into her labial folds. Emma released a straining whimper of disgust as the zombified X-Woman eagerly lapped at her pussy, forcing her body to respond. Psylocke’s oral attention intensified as she tasted Emma’s juices against her tongue. She mashed her face against the woman’s sex, nose pressing against Emma’s clit as she wiggled her tongue as deeply into her warm hole as she could.

“No,” Emma gasped as a pair of zombies dropped down on either side of her head. She looked up at them with horror, doing her best to scoot her crotch away from Psylocke’s face. Her horror rose as the two zombies guided their hands to her face, their thumbs heading for her wide eyes. “No, please!” The undead men ignored her pleas, driving their thumbs down hard. Emma’s eyes popped under the force, ocular fluid squirting across her cheeks as she was blinded. Her body jerked against the floor, howling out her pain and misery as she shamefully came against Psylocke’s lapping tongue.

Psylocke moaned as the sudden expulsion of Emma’s juices flowed into her mouth. She sucked at the blonde’s damp cunt, eager to taste more of her flavor even as her undead nature demanded a different sort of satisfaction. After a couple of wet slurps, Psylocke bared her teeth, digging them into the sensitive folds of Emma’s pussy. The blonde shrieks rose in pitch as Psylocke chewed away a healthy chunk of her sex. She chewed at the messy scraps of labia filling her mouth, the blend of blood and cunt honey leaking down her throat to satiate her ever-hungry belly. Licking her lips, Psylocke went in for another bite, working her teeth against the stiff bud of Emma’s clitoris and working diligently to chew the sensitive bundle of nerves away.

The tiny gash on the bottom of Emma’s left foot – still leaking a flow of blood – could never hope to come close to the unimaginably pain that shot through her as Psylocke ripped her clitoris off. Her blinded state only made the pain worse, intensifying the awful sensations. The zombies thumbing her bloody sockets began to tug upwards on them, combining their minimal but surprising strength to get what they wanted. The sound of Emma’s skull cracking was hardly audible due to her incessant shrieks. With a series of snaps and ripping skin, the zombies unhinged the top of Emma’s skull, exposing the telepath’s glistening, wrinkled brain.

Emma’s hinged open skull cap made for a macabre bowl to cradle the two zombies’ swollen testicles as they guided their throbbing erections to her brain. Emma’s screams abruptly shifted into sputtering gibberish as the pair of cocks pushed into the soft organ, penetrating her cerebral sack and plunging further into her. Spastic twitches ripped through Emma’s body as her mind was irrevocably damaged, suddenly finding herself grinding her bloody gash against Psylocke’s gnashing teeth. Her tongue flopped out of her mouth, wagging absurdly as drool crept over the edge of her lips and flowed down her face. The zombies pumped their pricks into the woman’s open skull, boring out fleshy holes in her brain.

Another horny zombie climbed onto Emma’s chest, slapping his erection between her jiggling tits. His hands closed around the pliant mounds of flesh, forcing them together as he shifted his hips back and forth. Her pink nipples stood at firm attention as brain-damaged shudders continue to roll through her. Emma’s gibbering shifted into dazed moans and then briefly into whines of pain before devolving into wet gurgling. The zombie fucked her tits faster, enjoying the feeling of her soft, warm skin against his cold, flaky cock. With a low groan, he came, shooting messy splatters of jizz across Emma’s twitching face. A couple sizable globs of milky cum disappeared into the vacant sockets of her eyes.

With the majority of Emma’s snatch chewed away, Psylocke had little trouble forcing her clenched fist into the X-Woman’s gory hole. The walls of Emma’s cunt spastically clenched and released around Psylocke’s fist. Psylocke punched her way deeper through her vaginal canal, curling her arm upwards to create a distinct bulge against Emma’s belly. Her fingernails scratched at the blonde’s cervix, clawing through the miniscule orifice and allowing her to plunge her fist into Emma’s uterus. Emma’s legs kicked out wildly, piss suddenly exploding from her urethra as her increasingly brain damaged mind lost control of her bladder. Her bare feet gained fresh cuts and gouges as they skidded and stomped against the floor of the shop, landing against errant pieces of the broken jar.

Psylocke’s fingers broke through the roof of Emma’s uterus and curled into a firm grip. Tugging roughly, the zombified X-Woman slowly ripped Emma’s reproductive system out through her gaping, bloody cunt. Vaginal skin clung to Psylocke’s wrist, ruined uterus crushed within her fist as fallopian tubes dangled on either side of it. Psylocke shoved her fist into the air triumphantly before sucking one spongy ovary into her mouth, chewing it away and swallowing it down. Her free hand slipped between her legs to rub at her cum-leaking slit as she meticulously ate Emma’s reproductive organs away from her fist.

Emma Frost was little more than a twitching, drooling wreck. The zombies fucking her brain had drilled multiple holes into the precious organ. Their filthy hands gripped the bottom of her jaw, forcing her mouth to snap shut as they shoved their cocks deep into her Swiss-cheese brain. Their pricks jerked within the soft folds of her mind, spewing out healthy loads of jizz that came bubbling back down their shafts. The force of their ejaculations further ripped Emma’s brain apart, soupy chunks of it flowing into the cap of her opened skull. A final spurt of bloody drool crept past her sealed lips as her body finally gave out, slumping lifeless on the shop floor.


Chapter Seven: Velma Dinkley

Velma always felt conflicted when the gang split up to search for clues. On the one hand, she didn’t enjoy creeping through spooky places all alone. The rundown apartment complex presumably haunted by the ghost of a prostitute who’d been killed there years ago was no different. After years of solving mysteries, Velma had learned there was no such thing as ghosts or vampires or werewolves, but she had learned exactly how far a human being would go to satisfy their desires. That alone was enough to have her senses on high alert as she strode through the complex. She’d run the numbers and, statistically speaking, their group was long overdue for running into a bad guy capable of getting the upper hand and putting an end to the meddling kids and their trusty dog.

On the other hand, Velma found that she got her best work done when she was on her own. Without the others to distract her, it was a good deal easier for her to work her mind around the mystery and spot things that might be out of place and lead to a suspect. Unfortunately, on this particular occasion, she’d finally given in to Shaggy’s persistent urging to share a bowl with him before they started to search the apartment complex. He’d assured her it would help the place not be so scary. Thoroughly baked and shuffling down a long, darkened hallway, Velma found that wasn’t the case at all. All alone and filled the paranoia, the young woman was too busy looking for potential rapists and murders to notice any clues, let alone the nearly seamless teleportation into a virtually identical apartment complex located on the outskirts of the Necropolis.

Velma attributed the sudden lightheadedness and apparent color shift of the walls to the weed and silently vowed to never toke on anything Shaggy offered her ever again. “Scooby?” she called, hoping the goofy hound heard her. The longer she was alone, the more her skin crawled with the certainty that something bad was going to happen to her. “Scooby Doo,” she tried again, calling louder. “Where are you?” She frowned unable to hear his familiar bark, or the thudding of his oversized paws. She couldn’t hear much of anything. The apartment complex may have been abandoned, but the silence was unnerving in its purity.

Rounding a corner, Velma came to an abrupt stop, very nearly letting out a shriek of fright as she saw the backlit silhouette of the massive canine standing at the end of the hall. The shadowy figure of the dog looked frightening at first, until she realized it must be Scooby. “Scoob, is that you?” she asked, her weed paranoia still eating away at her. The good news was, the dog was Scooby Doo. The bad news was that when the Omni had plucked him into the Necropolis, he’d undergone a drastic change, becoming just another undead creature looking for meat to fuck and eat. Scooby no longer recognized Velma as a friend, just a prospective meal that he could rape along the way. His head lowered and he let out a dangerous growl, slobber running from his jowls.

The growl worried Velma. “Scoob, it’s me. It’s Velma,” she said, trying to make her voice as soothing as possible. She took a hesitant step towards the growling Great Dane, extending a hand. “What’s the matter, boy? I know this place is scary, but we’ve been in worse places before, right?” The growling persisted. “Oh, I know,” she said. “You want a Scooby Snack, right?” She felt her sides, trying to find one of the treats but came up empty. “I… I don’t have any on me, but if you come with me, I’m sure we could find Shaggy. He’s always got plenty of them.” The growl faded away, causing Velma’s hope to rise. “Is that what you want? You want a Scooby Snack?”

As far as Scooby was concerned Velma was the only snack he needed. With his gut rumbling with hunger and his loins aching with arousal, he let out a thundering bark and charged towards the busty, bespectacled young woman. Velma’s eyes widened with shock behind her glasses as she watched her former canine friend rushing towards her with ravenous desire in his cloudy eyes. More scared than she’d ever been in her life, Velma turned and took off back down the hall, slipping around the corner and putting as much distance between herself and Scooby as she could. She knew she couldn’t outrun the long-legged canine, but she was too panicked to try to open any of the doors she passed.

Velma made it halfway down the hall before her feet tangled with one another. She let out a cry as she tripped, flying forward and hitting the floor hard. Her large breasts smacked against the hardwood floor, saving her from hitting her face but the cushioned fall still left her chest aching. Her thick framed glasses shot away from her face, skidding along the floor and into the darkness. “Not again,” Velma groaned, cursing herself for not making that appointment to get contact lenses sooner. She squinted, blurry darkness all she could see as she pawed around for her glasses, acutely aware of the thudding of Scooby rushing her down growing louder in her ears.

Velma was on the verge of giving up on finding her glasses and running blind through the apartment complex when Scooby took the choice away from her. The undead canine reached her fallen form, just starting to push herself up onto her hands and knees, and leapt onto her back. His large paws slammed into Velma’s shoulder blades, forcing her down to the floor again. “Scooby, please,” she whined. “What’s wrong with you?” Her horror rose as Scooby slid his snout under the back of her red skirt and flicked upwards, flipping the fabric up onto her lower back and revealing her panty-covered rear. She yelped, tears breaking from her eyes as Scooby’s teeth pinched her ass, gasping as the Great Dane ripped the seat of her underwear away. Her eyes bulged with shocked surprise as Scooby’s cold, damp nose pressed against the sensitive slit of her cunt. “What the hell are you doing, Scooby?”

The zombie dog hoisted himself up and mounted Velma. His glistening red cock slid free of his body, dangling in front of the young woman’s exposed sex. Velma’s panic grew as the tapered tip of Scooby’s dick humped against her folds. She twisted her head around to look up at the terrifying visage of Scooby’s face, slobbering and milky-eyed. “Scooby, stop!” she screamed. “Please! Someone! Shaggy! Daphne! Fred! Help me!” She cried out as Scooby’s thrusts finally allowed him to enter her, shoving his member into her snatch with bestial force. The slick length filled her, feeling wrong on every level. Velma wanted nothing more than to attribute the whole experience to a bad trip due to Shaggy lacing the weed with some sort of hallucinogen, but she knew that wasn’t the case. Her analytical mind wasn’t nearly depraved enough to conjure up such a ghastly scenario.

Scooby’s hips humped fast against Velma’s upraised rear, enjoying the clenching of her cunt around his cock. The zombified canine was incapable of comprehending the wrongness of the bestiality. Only part of that was due to his undead state. Scooby had been harboring a bit of a crush on Velma for a while, taking every opportunity he had to sniff her butt when she wasn’t paying attention. In his excitement, he managed to slip out of Velma’s somewhat damp slit. The pleasure faded and he humped even more eagerly in an attempt to find it again. The angle of his rigid flesh shifted, forcing the tip of his cock against Velma’s asshole. Velma’s head shot up, screaming out for help even more frantically as Scooby drilled his way into her virgin ass. “B-bad dog,” she whimpered pathetically, sobbing heavily and cursing herself for giving in to Shaggy’s offer to smoke weed with him. Her parents had warned her repeatedly about the dangers of drugs, but she’d always assumed they meant jail or addiction or overdosing. She never dared to imagine using drugs could lead to her getting ass-raped by a dog.

The unwanted assault only grew worse as Scooby’s prick swelled within her cramped asshole. The canine’s humping sped up, pounding her raised rear with growing force that caused the fleshy of her meaty buttocks to jiggle. Scooby’s head tilted back, releasing a howl of release as he came deep within Velma’s bruised bowels. Velma cringed and cried, the degradation of being pumped full of canine cum pairing with the added pain of Scooby’s cock forming a swollen knot at the base. The knot created an effective anal plug, trapping the dog’s member within her to ensure her humiliation would not fade anytime soon. Scooby panted, long tongue hanging from his open mouth and drizzling slobber over Velma’s lower back as he enjoyed the pleasure of draining his balls into the young woman.

With the rape over with, Velma struggled to regain her composure. Her years of experience spent solving mysteries did nothing to help her. In the mysterious case of why Scooby had suddenly attacked and violated her, she didn’t have a single clue. I could have him put down for this, she thought. Shaggy might hate me for it, but there’s no way I’m getting back in the Mystery Machine with Scooby. Gathering her strength, Velma tried to pull herself out from under the panting canine. She winced as the pain in her stuffed ass worsened. The tight ring of muscle resisted stretching around Scooby’s thick knot, but she had no intention of remaining on the floor. She needed to escape, find the others, and get out of the apartment complex. She no longer cared about the mystery they’d come to solve. She doubted she’d care about any mystery ever again.

Scooby’s contentedness shifted into annoyance as he felt Velma trying to crawl away from him. With an angry bark, he lunged forward, stretching his jaw open wide and biting into the back of her neck. He mostly wound up with a mouthful of orange fabric, but it didn’t deter him any. His hips jerked forward, mashing his knotted prick further into Velma’s ass as he struggled to secure a firm grip on the young woman’s neck. He tore away a chunk of padded turtleneck and turned his head to the side to push the ripped fabric out of his mouth before trying again. Velma’s struggles intensified after the shock of Scooby biting her wore off. The urge to get away from the dog grew stronger, realizing that far more than just her dignity was at stake. Whatever evil had infected Scooby didn’t seem satisfied with simply raping her.

Velma kicked out, toes scuffing against the wooden floor of the hall as she stretched her arms out and tried to pull away from Scooby. The knot kept her pinned in place, connecting her to the Great Danes significant mass. Each tug she gave against the knot sent a jolt of pain shooting through her rear, but she couldn’t feel it sliding any further out of her stretching sphincter. She twisted herself from side to side, desperately avoiding Scooby’s gnashing teeth. “Please, Scooby,” she sobbed. “I’m your friend! Don’t you remember me at all?” She screamed out in pain as Scooby’s fangs sunk into the flesh of her neck, securing a firm hold on her. Hot blood dribbled out of her, soaking into the torn turtleneck.

Scooby’s jaw clenched, sinking his fangs deeper into the sides of Velma’s neck before shaking violently. Velma’s struggles came to a sudden end as her neck snapped. Her glistening eyes widened before her eyelids drooped half-closed. Her body twitched spastically beneath the zombie hound, a geyser of piss squirting from her crotch and splashing across Scooby’s dangling balls. Her thick ass bucked back against the canine cock stuffing it. With his combination mate and meal no longer putting up any resistance, Scooby released his hold on Velma’s mangled neck. Her head fell forward, smacking against the floor with a fleshy thud as her death spasms slowly faded away.

The knot of swollen cock flesh slowly loosened, allowing Scooby to finally pull free of Velma’s gaping asshole. The woman’s corpse remained with her ass perched in the air and her head lying against the floor, lightly twitching hands stretched to either side of her body. Scooby gave Velma’s rear one last sniff before dragging his long, sloppy tongue through the crack of her ass. With a hungry growl, he chomped into the meaty flesh of one cheek, ripping through the smooth skin and tearing away a sizable chunk. Scooby chewed the chunk of ass meat messily, swallowing the bulk of it down before going back for more. By the third bite, Velma’s body slumped onto its side. Licking his bloody muzzle, Scooby nudged the corpse fully onto its back and shredded through her orange turtleneck to tear into the plaint flesh of Velma’s plump tits. Her body rocked and shifted as Scooby devoured her, dead eyes staring into nothingness.


If the next batch of chapters looks vaguely familiar, it's because they're the old VGBabes vs. The Legions of the Undead segments. Did a poll over at the Patreon page and the majority of people wanted to see em incorporated into the new series. They've been edited slightly to flow better and to fit into the CosplayBabes series a bit better. Enjoy!

Chapter Eight: Lara Croft

Lara Croft fired repeatedly at the horde of zombies shambling towards her. They fell in waves, but there seemed to be no end to their numbers. As good a shot as she was and as quickly as she reloaded, she was losing ground. It wouldn’t be long before she was cornered against the brick wall of the dead end alleyway. She had no idea where the undead fucks had come from, or even how she'd gotten to the city she was now trapped in. One minute, she'd been having a leisurely afternoon at her home, sunbathing nude by her pool and fingering herself at a nice, slow rhythm, the next she'd been in the middle of the deserted city with no one but the reanimated corpses to keep her company.

Lara had arrived with exactly what she'd left with; nothing. Not a stitch of clothing or any weapons. The strange thing was, she'd found a pair of holstered pistols, along with several clips of ammunition, lying on the ground not far from where she’d arrived. She slid the holsters on and checked the guns to find them already fully loaded and identical to her own pistols. She looked around some more, hoping to find some clothing, but came up empty handed. Sighing, Lara had started to make her way down a road, the cool night air blowing against her bare skin and making her nipples tighten up. She hadn't gone far before the zombies had arrived. Lara had started blasting them, but quickly realized there were too many to kill. She didn't have enough ammunition.

The sexy tomb raider had taken off running, large breasts bouncing as she did. More zombies appeared from around corners in front of her, lunging towards her nude form. She plugged them as they got too close and tried to dodge as many others as she could, but she had no idea where she was going and she was quickly growing tired. Lara had spotted the dead end at the back of the alley as soon as she turned into it. She spun around to dart back out to safety, only to have a rotting face shoved inches from her own. It let out a loud moan, breathing its dead air into her face, and tried to paw at her breasts. Lara cringed at the noxious smell and shoved the thing away before backing up into the alley, firing away.

Lara's heart sank as her bare back and firm ass pressed against the cool, rough bricks. She'd gone as far as she could go. She kept firing at the horde, only ten feet away from her now and too thick to try and break through. She wasted precious seconds glancing to either side of her to hopefully find an open window or low hanging fire escape. Nothing. When she turned back to the zombies, they were six feet away and closing. She started firing again, sending brains and skull fragments spraying into the air and letting out a frustrated yell that grew louder and louder as her enemies closed in on her until finally the yell turned into a high pitched scream as they reached her, grabbing hold of her wrists and tugging her away from the wall and into the midst of the undead horde.

Lara cried out as their teeth gnawed on her outstretched arms, biting into her wrists and making her drop her smoking pistols. After she was disarmed, the naked young woman was
dragged to the ground and stretched wide. The zombies fought for prime places to get to her. They bit and chewed chunks of flesh out of her arms, as well as her feet and calves. She was shocked and disgusted when one of the male zombies kneeling by her head took out his rotten cock and shoved it into her mouth. Lara gagged on the putrid thing as it pumped in and out of her full lips. It wasn't the only zombie taking advantage of her sexually. She felt hands on her breasts, not tearing but massaging and rubbing at her large, brown nipples. Another hand was on her pussy, fingering her with hard quick pumps. Even though it was much rougher, Lara was reminded of how she'd been using her own fingers in a much similar way no less than an hour ago.

A mouth took the place of the probing fingers and a squirming tongue pushed as deep into her wet pussy as it could. A dead man's cum shot into her mouth, overflowing and spilling out of her lips, down her cheeks and chin. After the zombie finished shooting his load into Lara's sweet mouth, he removed his limp cock and lowered his face close to hers. She recognized him as the one who'd tried to tackle her when she first came down the alley. Should've blasted the fucker when I had the chance, was the only thought Lara formed before the corpse opened his mouth wide and bit down onto her nose. There was a crunch and blood squirted out of her nose as she opened her mouth to let out another scream. The zombie tore half her nose off, crunching through it before swallowing. Blood gushed over Lara's face, along with hot tears.

Another scream filled the air as the zombie who'd been eating her out literally began eating her out. Teeth clamped down onto her clit before tearing the sensitive flesh away. The undead bastard went back, tearing chunks of her cunt off and chewing them. Lara struggled as much as she could, feeling another zombie chomp through the fingers on her right hand. Another pair took hold of her left hand and pulled on it until it finally gave way. More of her precious blood gushed out of her, leaving her very pale. The zombie that had bitten her nose off returned to tear pieces out of her cheeks. Once he'd finished there, he gave her a deranged kiss, sucking on her lips before tearing them away. The corpse with his head between her legs finished with her vagina and moved upwards, tearing into her gut and gorging himself on her intestines.

Lara Croft tried to scream as the zombie's head pushed inside her stomach, munching on whatever organs he came across, but she found she didn't have the strength. The world was quickly fading out for the once lovely tomb raider. Teeth ripped into her throat and another warm gush of blood flowed out of her. She was well on her way to being a corpse herself, but not far enough along to save herself the agony as the face-eating zombie shoved his thumb into her left eye socket and used it for leverage to pry open her skull. As he started ripping out chunks of her glistening brain and shoving them into his mouth, her remaining eye finally rolled back and what remained of her body gave a last shudder before going limp.

The zombies feasting on her didn't notice when she officially died. They didn't care. They were just happy to have the meal that was in front of them. The zombie with its head buried inside Lara's stomach finally pulled his blood covered face out of the dead woman and set his glazed eyes on the twin orbs of flesh that, miraculously, had yet to be damaged. Crawling further up her body, the zombie lowered his blood-drenched head to the tomb raider's huge tits and chewed one of her nipples off.


Chapter Nine: Rebecca Chambers

In the blink of an eye, Rebecca Chambers found herself transported from a dusty room inside the Spencer Mansion to a dark, deserted street in the middle of a city. She didn't think it was Raccoon City, either. If it was, it was a section she'd never seen before. Her location may have changed, but her problems remained the same, it seemed. She heard a series of moans and turned to see a group of shadowy figures shambling towards her. As they passed through the light of an overhead streetlamp, her fears were confirmed as she got a good look at the rotting corpses heading her way. She still didn't have a weapon and now she didn't even have a place to hide. That left running.

As Rebecca turned to dart off in the other direction, she ran headfirst into another zombie that towered over her. She backed away and looked up at the monster, the smell of his rotting body filling her nostrils and making her want to gag. Before she had a chance to react, the zombie lunged at her. Rebecca threw up her arms in front of her. The corpse grabbed hold of one of her wrists, pulling her thin arm up to its mouth before biting into her flesh. Rebecca cried out and tried to pull away, kicking the zombie between the legs. She was released, falling back onto her ass, cradling her bleeding arm. The group of zombies was getting close so she didn't have time to assess the full extent of how bad the wound was. She sprung to her feet, dodged past the large zombie in front of her, and took off running down the road, looking for some place to hide.

Rebecca rounded a corner, finding herself in a dead end alley. She was about to turn back around and look for another place to hide when she spotted something down at the end of the alley. It was mostly hidden in shadows so she had to walk towards it, approaching slowly. Her eyes widened as she got close enough to identify what the object was, or what it had been. A woman. She'd been nearly entirely devoured by the zombies. Most of her face had been eaten away and her stomach had been torn open, her insides devoured. It looked as if she'd had large breasts at one point, but they'd been reduced to mostly devoured chunks of flesh. Her arms and legs had been thoroughly chewed as well, down to the bone in places. Unable to control her stomach, Rebecca turned and vomited on the ground.

Once she got herself under control, the young medic spotted something that lifted her spirits just a bit. A gun – covered in the dead woman's blood – lay in the shadows beside her corpse. Rebecca knelt down and retrieved the weapon, checking the clip. Only two shots left. Not good. She heard the distant moans of the zombies behind her. They'd reach the alley before long and the last thing she wanted was to get trapped down there. She'd wind up just another chewed corpse. Slamming the clip back into the pistol, Rebecca rose and turned, darting back out of the alleyway and further down the street away from the moans. She ran for a few more blocks before she had to stop and rest. She panted heavily as sweat poured out of her body, soaking into her clothes. Oddly enough, she felt cold. The bite on her arm throbbed badly. Rebecca looked it over. It was fairly deep and a good sized chunk of her flesh had been torn away but it wasn't anything fatal. The bleeding had already stopped.

Rebecca started moving again, knowing she had to keep going or it would only be a matter of time before they caught up to her. As she walked, sweat continued pouring out of her and the cold she felt worsened. Except between her legs. She felt a warmth growing there. It was getting worse and distracting her. Finally, she was so horny she couldn't take it anymore. She looked both ways down the road, not seeing any zombies, then lay back on the pavement, scrambling to get her pants undone. Once she had, she slid a hand underneath her camo pattern panties and rubbed at her pussy, finding it already gushing juices. She reached her other hand up under her shirt, pulling down the cups of her bra to squeeze and pinch at her perky young tits. Her nipples grew hard, incredibly sensitive to her touches.

Rebecca let out a loud moan as she went over the edge, her cum drenching her panties even more than they'd already been. Her skin grew increasingly pale and waxy, her hair plastered to her forehead from sweat. Her eyes took on a milky white color and her brain became increasingly fogged. All she felt was the intense heat between her legs, begging to be satiated, and an equally intense hunger in her gut. Another moan was heard, this one not from Rebecca's lips though. The infected girl looked up, seeing the large zombie who'd bitten her. The zombie dropped to its knees as Rebecca spread her legs apart for it, shoving her pants and panties down her legs.

The zombie pulled out his hard cock and fell on top of Rebecca, thrusting between her legs until he finally managed to penetrate her. The young woman cried out in passion, clutching her undead lover close to herself. She ground her hips upward against the zombie's. Rough hands snaked up under her shirt to grope at her breasts. She slammed herself up against the undead cock as hard as she could, riding herself into another orgasm and her own transformation into undeath. She tilted her head back and let out a scream as her cunt clamped down around the prick inside her, squirting her juices out as the zombie's cum shot deep inside her, causing a tingling sensation. Then she fell back against the pavement, her chest heaving. Her body started to spasm then her chest fell still. Rebecca's eyes stared blankly, almost totally white.

The zombie still lying on top of the dead girl looked down at her, unsure of whether or not to start eating. He lowered his face close to hers and sucked on her lower lip before biting down and ripping it away, tearing the skin all the way over her chin and leaving her bottom teeth and bloody chin bone exposed. Then Rebecca's eyelids fluttered and she came back to life, in a way. She looked up at the corpse swallowing her lip and gripped him tightly all over again, humping her hips against his. More moans filled the air as the rest of the zombies arrived to find Rebecca transformed into an undead slut. More cocks were presented to her and she eagerly serviced them, happily embracing her new role as another member of the Legions of the Undead.


Chapter Ten: Jill Valentine

Jill Valentine slid around the corner of a building, her pistol held at the ready. She'd been trying to make her way through the devastation of Raccoon City when she'd found herself in a totally different town. She wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but at the moment, she didn't need to. All she knew for sure was that wherever she was – and however she'd gotten there – the undead fucks that had been trying to kill her were still around. Jill wore a blue tube top and black mini-skirt with a pair of knee-high boots. Hardly choice zombie-killing clothes, but it sure beat running around naked. All things considered, it wasn't too awful bad. The zombies weren't fast or smart, and they were damn easy to kill as long as you knew how to aim. So far, she'd yet to see any of the other monstrosities that Umbrella was so fond of creating and for that she was thankful.

As Jill rounded the corner, she spotted a small group of zombies shuffling down the road ahead of her. She aimed her gun then decided against firing. They hadn't seen her yet and the noise would just attract more of the things. She lowered her gun and turned, heading back in the other direction. If she could find a car or some other means of transportation, she could get the hell out of the dead city – wherever it was – and try to get back to a normal life, if one could even be found. It seemed more and more like the range of T-virus infection was pretty wide. That thought worried her more than why she'd been instantly transported from one spot to another. Jill couldn't even begin to come up with a reason as to how or why that had happened, so she just ignored it for now.

The worst thing about killing zombies was that in order to take aim at their heads, you had to look them in the face. Their eyes were devoid of any intelligence, but their faces were still just as human as her own. It was best when she could shoot them from behind, not just for safety, but to keep her from seeing the faces. She was still haunted by the scientists she'd killed in the Spencer Estate. Nightmares of disembodied moaning faces floating through the darkness, begging her for help. She'd woken up screaming for a week straight after getting back from the mansion lab and even after that, she hadn't slept well.

Approaching another corner, Jill heard the trademark moans and shuffles that signaled the approach of zombies. She readied herself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, before spinning around the corner and raising her gun to take aim. Even as she did, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock. "No... It can't be..." she gasped as she stared into the face of the young girl who she'd used to work with. "God, Rebecca..." The girl lurched towards Jill, her clothes in shambles, leaving her practically nude. Her eyes had glazed over into the lifeless stare of the undead. The only noticeable damage she'd sustained was her bottom lip having been torn away. Not a fatal wound, but gruesome just the same. Jill found herself frozen, unable to move or pull the trigger on the gun she had aimed at her dead friend's face. Oh god, that face...

Rebecca shuffled towards Jill, two male zombies on either side of her. They all had the same objective. Make a meal out of the beautiful young woman who'd stumbled into their way. Jill knew Rebecca was dead, that nothing remained of the poor girl, that the only way she'd survive was to shoot, but she still couldn't do it. Warm wetness travelled down her cheeks for several moments before she realized she was crying. Crying for Rebecca. Crying for all those other faces she'd been forced to shoot. Crying for the world that had been reduced to a zombie infested hell. And crying for herself, because she saw reflected in Rebecca's milky white eyes her own death. And she knew it wouldn't be pleasant. The dead girl shoved Jill's pistol and her arms to the side. The S.T.A.R.S. member let her gun fall to the ground, deciding it was useless to even bother keeping it. Then Rebecca moved in close to Jill, grabbing hold of the front of her tube top and yanking it down, letting her breasts bounce free of the restraining fabric.

Jill watched in shock and horror as Rebecca lowered her head to Jill's tits, sucking on them and licking over her nipples. Her nipples tingled and grew hard but she didn't really feel the pleasure she normally would from such attention. Her brain was already shutting down, her sanity slipping away from her quickly. She let it go without a fight, deciding that it was better to go insane before the monsters tore her apart. It might even make it hurt less, but she doubted it. Jill was lowered to the ground by Rebecca and the other two zombies. Once she was on the ground, it was only a matter of moments before a hardness pressed against her full lips. She forced her eyes to focus and saw that one of the zombies was trying to force his erection into her mouth. She parted her lips and let it do what it wanted, feeling the veiny, throbbing member push deep into her mouth.

Rebecca continued to suck on Jill's tits, covering them in saliva. Once she grew tired of sucking, she opened her mouth wider and took hold of one of Jill's nipples between her teeth, biting down and pulling back, tearing the sensitive piece of flesh away from her body and causing blood to seep out of her, flowing into her cleavage. Swallowing the nipple, Rebecca moved back down, tearing more chunks of flesh out of Jill's once perfect breasts. Jill whimpered in pain around the zombie's thrusting cock, more tears flowing out of her eyes. The third zombie tore off her mini-skirt, followed by her white cotton panties.

The zombie between her legs had his own erection out and eyed Jill's shaved cunt with lust. Rebecca's perky buttocks were in the way, though. The zombie gripped Jill by the hips and pulled on her, trying to slide more of her body out from under Rebecca so he could fuck her. Jill slid and the zombie fucking her mouth let out a frustrated moan as his cock popped out of her. He reached down and took hold of Jill's head, pulling back the other way. Rebecca remained on top of the woman, not noticing the tug of war that had started, too busy devouring Jill's tits, bite by tasty bite. Jill could feel pressure building at the base of her neck and around her hips as the two zombies struggled to get enough of her to fuck.

After several minutes of hard tugging and stretching Jill to her limits, everything came to an end quite suddenly. First, Jill felt a tearing around her midsection. Sharp pain spiked and when it subsided, she could no longer feel her legs. The zombie pulling on her hips had finally managed to get enough of Jill to do what he wanted. He slid the lower half of her body under himself, pumping between her legs and into her yielding pussy. He reached up and grabbed a handful of the woman's spilled guts to munch on. Mere moments after Jill was torn in half, something snapped in her neck and suddenly she grew very dizzy as her head spun. She was finally righted and the zombie brought her severed head up against his hard cock, pushing past her lips once more and thrusting into her throat.

Jill's hands clenched into fists and released several times, blood gushing out of her neck and her torn stomach. Her booted legs kicked and jerked as her vagina clenched around the zombie's prick, coaxing him into spraying his load inside her. Once he finished fucking her twat, the monster scooped up more of her intestines, shoving them greedily into his mouth. Jill's consciousness quickly faded from lack of oxygen as the zombie face-fucking her slammed her head back and forth harder before finally shoving her all the way down, her nose buried in the thing's pubic hair. Cum shot down what bit of throat she had left. The zombie's seed dribbled out of the bottom of her severed head, pooling on the ground. Before the zombie finished with his orgasm, the woman was dead.

Rebecca finished with Jill's breasts and started chewing on her neck stump. The zombie that had been fucking her cunt pulled out of her and flipped her bottom half over before ripping chunks out of her fleshy ass. The zombie left holding the woman's head lifted it up to look into her dead eyes momentarily before tilting it slightly and chomping down into her forehead, crunching through her skull to reach the tasty brain that lay beneath. With a crack, Rebecca broke through Jill's ribcage, snaking a hand inside to reach the heart and other organs left inside.


keep up the good work :) x



Chapter Eleven: Tifa Lockheart

Tifa Lockheart found herself besieged on all sides by shuffling members of the undead. She readied herself into a fighter's stance, lifting her fists. As the moaning corpses approached her, she lashed out fast and hard. Her high kicks and uppercuts sent the zombies falling back into each other. The sound of impacts and shattering bones echoed off the buildings, creating a near constant cacophony. Tifa spun around, spotting the closest enemies and taking them out as fast as she could before continuing to spin and take out the next. There seemed to be no end to the onslaught of foes.

Tifa leapt into the air, spinning and slamming the heel of her foot into the side of a final zombie's cranium. There was a crunching sound as his head collapsed under the force of her kick and the twitching corpse fell into the pile of his companions. Tifa landed, breathing heavily, sweat coursing out of her body. Her white tank top was drenched through, making her hard, pink nipples visible through the fabric. She flexed her fingers and looked around herself, not seeing any more enemies. She hopped over the pile of dead bodies and examined her surroundings.

It was a town with architecture like she'd never seen before. She wondered where the rest of her companions were. There was no sign of them. Staying where she was didn't seem like too bright of an idea, given the number of zombies that she'd just been forced to fight. More could arrive at any moment. So she started moving, keeping an alert eye out for any more of the creatures as well as any of her friends. It was hard to stay alert, though, when the more she took in of her surroundings, the more strange they seemed.

Tifa had traveled a few blocks when she heard a low growl coming from behind her. The sudden sound invading the silence startled her badly, causing her heart to figuratively leap up into her throat. Slowly, she turned to face whatever this new foe was. She gasped as she spotted it, low to the ground, but still not small. A canine of some sort. It came up to her hips and had wide shoulders with pointed ears and dark red eyes. The low growl continued to pour from its mouth, filled with sharp fangs and plenty of drool spilling out onto the ground. Its fur was short and dark brown with muscles rippling throughout its body. Whatever the beast was, it looked much meaner and tougher than the zombies had.

The Hell Hound's growl grew into something between a bark and a roar before it charged towards Tifa. The girl set herself, lifting her fists again, ready to put up as much of a fight as she could. When it got several feet away from her, the beast leapt into the air, mouth opened wide and coming straight for her slender throat. Tifa let out a battle cry and leapt into the air as well, lashing out with one of her long, muscular legs. Her foot smashed into the side of the creature's snout and sent it flying sideways against a wall. It slid to the ground and lay there, still. Tifa stood looking at it for a few moments, waiting for it to get back up, but it seemed as if she'd killed it. Giving a shrug, she turned back around and started down the road once more.

The large-breasted woman only made it several steps before she heard more growling. Cursing, she turned back around, only to be surprised once more. There were two of the monsters standing there. She glanced to where the first had fallen and saw it was still there. These were new enemies. They wasted no time in racing towards her, slobber gushing out of their mouths. Tifa tried to maintain a fighting stance, but she found herself constantly shifting from one beast to the other, unable to decide which would reach her first. She tried to sidestep as they leapt at her and swing a gloved fist at one of the Hell Hounds but saw almost immediately that her plan was going to backfire.

Tifa let out a scream as the sharp teeth of the hound clamped down into her wrist. She was forcibly spun around as the beast flew past her with her hand in its mouth then almost drug down to her knees as it hit the ground. The creature growled and drooled over her hand as it bit down even harder and tugged on her arm. Tifa lifted her other arm to punch at her foe, only to have the second Hell Hound chomp down on it. She let out another scream as the two beasts pulled her in opposite directions, stretching her body. Trying to block out the pain in her arms, Tifa locked her legs and pulled back against the animals in an attempt to get her arms free. She managed to drag the hounds several inches, but she could feel her shoulders on the verge of giving way.

Then the third hound – merely stunned from Tifa's blow – slammed into her back. Her legs lost their balance and she dropped to her knees, skinning them badly on the pavement, and at the same time stopped pulling back against the monsters clamped down on her wrists. Her arms shot back out to a fully stretched state, causing both of them pop out of their sockets. Tifa screamed in pain. Once they were dislocated, it didn't take much more tugging to tear Tifa's arms clean off. Blood gushed out of her body and she fell forward onto the ground, her breasts squished beneath her torso, her luscious ass in the air.

The two hounds with her arms fell back and dropped the limbs to the ground, tearing chunks of flesh and crunching through bones. The original Hell Hound sniffed at Tifa's raised buttocks. Teeth raked along her lower back before they tore her black mini-skirt away, followed closely by her panties. A cold, wet nose prodded at her pussy lips then a sticky tongue pressed against them. She let out a ragged gasp as the beast's long tongue slithered inside her cunt then back out again. Next, it tickled her asshole. She cringed in disgust, feeling the squirming thing force its way deep inside her, all the way into her bowels. Finally, it pulled its tongue out of Tifa's ass, tasting her shit before leaping up onto her, placing its heavy, clawed front paws on her back, digging into her flesh before thrusting its cock against her tight asshole.

Tifa groaned in pain as the beast's thick member pushed into her butt and stretched her apart. The thing's length pounded deeper and deeper into her, even further than the tongue had traveled. As the hound humped against her, Tifa's body shifted back and forth along the rough ground, scraping her chin and tits. The two other hounds finished with her arms and came back over to her to see what else they could get from her. One stopped and lapped at the large pool of blood that had squirted out of one of her arm stumps. The other lowered its head to sniff at Tifa's hair momentarily before opening its jaws wide.

The doomed girl felt the monster's teeth on either side of her skull digging in as it closed its mouth. There was a growing pressure in her head as it was squeezed until finally her skull shattered, sending brain, blood, and skull fragments up into the hound's mouth as well as out onto the street. One of Tifa's eyes rolled a ways away from her twitching, headless corpse. A burst of urine squirted out of her pussy as the beast fucking her ass let out a long howl while it blasted the inside of her bowels with molten hot cum.

Pulling out of Tifa's stretched anus, the beast knocked her body over onto its back before tearing away her white tank top and releasing her enormous mounds of flesh. The hound that had been lapping up Tifa's blood turned to the jiggling breasts that had been revealed and immediately tore into them. Tifa's sexy legs continued to kick for a while before the movements slowed into trembles and the occasional twitch. They were still twitching when the hounds finally finished with the rest of her luscious body and went about tearing those long, sexy legs to ribbons.


Chapter Twelve: Aya Brea

Aya Brea wore a tight black dress that hugged against her sensuous body. The top half of her large breasts were uncovered to the cool night air, as were her long, slender legs. She wore high-heels and had a little black purse with a long strap on her shoulder. It was into that purse that she reached, pushing past her lipstick and an unopened condom to grasp the reassuring weight of her small but deadly pistol. She pulled the weapon out and took aim at one of the three Hell Hounds she'd come across. There was no doubt as to what they'd do to her if they managed to get a hold of her. The bloody remains they'd been tearing into was proof enough of that.

The blonde fired, striking the hound just behind its ear, tearing the piece of skin clean off. The beast let out a pained yelp and spun around to face Aya, along with its two companions. All three monsters charged towards her. Aya's eyes widened and she fired blindly. She saw a couple shots nick the hounds along their shoulders but most of them missed completely, gouging chunks out of the pavement. Her gun clicked empty when they were a few feet in front of her. Aya dropped the gun and brought her arms up in front of her in a vain attempt to shield herself, scrunching her eyes closed and trying to prepare for the inevitable mauling that was in store for her.

It never came. Her body grew warm, followed by yelps and screeches of pain, then a wave of hot air and ashes flowed by her. Aya slowly opened her eyes and lowered her arms to see that all three of her attackers had been reduced to smoldering ashes. Confused, she looked around, trying to spot what had caused this lucky turn of events. She saw nothing until she looked down at her own tingling hands. Little sparks of light were coming off of them almost in a direct line towards the dead creatures. Somehow, she'd done this. It was impossible, but there was no other explanation. Aya decided it was better not to question her new found power, she was just glad to have it. She retrieved her gun, reloaded it, and then continued on her way, past the gory remains of what had once been another human being.

Whatever was going on, Aya didn't like it. She wondered what other monsters were out roaming the streets of the strange city. She spotted a group of people up the street from where she was and felt a surge of hope. Maybe she wasn't the only one around after all. She ran as fast as she could towards the group, which wasn't very fast at all in her heels. What an outfit to be wearing in the middle of all this disaster, she thought. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she drew closer to the people, noticing she was much more extravagantly dressed than any of them. It wasn't like she was trying to be better than anyone else. How was she to know that her night out at the opera would turn into such a nightmare?

Aya stopped behind the group, clearing her throat before tapping on the shoulder of the man standing nearest to her. "Um, excuse me," she said. "But I think I'm lost." The man, along with the rest of the group, slowly turned towards her. Aya's eyes widened as she got her first good look at the people. Skin waxy, eyes sunken in and milky white, various wounds covering their bodies. They weren't just haggard looking homeless people, they were dead. Dead but still moving around. Aya stumbled back, raising her gun. "Freeze! Uh... police!" she yelled at them, unsure of what else to do. The zombies took no notice of her demands as they started coming at her.

Squeezing the trigger on her pistol, Aya fired into the crowd. Shoulder, chest, and gut shots sent blood spraying into the air, but none of the zombies fell. When she finally managed to strike one in the head, sending its brains splattering into the one behind it, the thing dropped to the ground and didn't get back up. Headshots, she thought. Gotta aim for their head. She tried, but even as slow moving as they were it was difficult. She managed to drop two more before her gun clicked empty. Cursing, she reached into her purse again, only to realize she'd only packed one extra clip of ammunition. Aya looked down at her empty pistol in despair then hurled it at the remaining corpses. She looked down at her hands, remembering what she'd done to the Hell Hounds.

She held her hands outward towards the approaching zombies and concentrated on doing to them whatever she'd done to the other monsters. Nothing happened. Panic ate away at her. "C'mon..." she said through clenched teeth. "Work..." Still nothing. The zombies loomed closer. Aya squeezed her eyes shut, arms still outstretched, fingers spread, and strained as hard as she could, unable to think of how she managed to conjure her mysterious power before. "Flame on!" she tried with no reward. "Pyro power go! Anything! Just... fucking... do it!" Then something happened, but it wasn't what she'd been hoping for with every ounce of herself. Instead of heat, she felt the cold, hard grip of the zombies fingers as they reached her and grabbed hold of her arms.

Aya opened her eyes and screamed, pulling back against the zombies. She fell back and collided with something more or less solid. Turning her head, she saw the face of a dead girl with short, red hair and her bottom lip torn away. Aya screamed again as she was surrounded by the group, her feet leaving the ground as she was lifted upwards. She struggled and kicked at the creatures, but there were too many to knock them all away. The girl behind her hooked her arms up under Aya's armpits, pulling her back. A hand slipped under the top of her dress, tearing it away from one of her breasts, letting the fleshy orb bounce free. She screamed and struggled more, feeling the lipless girl's teeth sink into her shoulder, tearing a chunk of her flesh away.

More zombies had taken hold of Aya's legs, lifting her almost horizontally into the air. Her legs were pulled apart and a male zombie pushed his way between her milky white thighs, pushing her dress further up her legs and reaching underneath it to tear her lacy black panties away with one hand while his other pulled his stiff cock out of his tattered pants. The zombie gripped Aya by her hips and slammed the full length of his erection into her dry snatch, making the woman scream in pain. The lack of lubrication didn't stop the zombie from continuing to plow into her. The female zombie that had bitten her continued to chew on the thick tendon running from her neck to her shoulder. All Aya could do was keep hoping that any moment her powers would return to her and simply torch her tormentors.

As the zombie raping her continued to thrust his thick length into the blonde woman, the others gathered around her grew tired of waiting. One of the zombies standing on her side reached down and tore through the fabric of her dress to get at her slender stomach. Aya's head flew back and she let out another inhuman cry of pain as a pair of zombies ripped into her gut. She looked back, watching in horror as they pulled out handfuls of her intestines. At the sight of the bloody gore, the zombie fucking her reached into her and pulled out a handful for himself, chewing contentedly as he ground his hips up against her.

Warm, coppery liquid came up Aya’s throat and a moment later she found herself spitting up blood. Her body shuddered as she went into shock. The zombies around her, roused by the sight and smell of her spilled blood, reached into her torn open belly, pulling out whatever organs they could get a hold of. Aya continued to scream, blood spilling out of her lips, until finally one zombie reached up under her rib cage and tore a chunk out of her lungs. Even then, she never stopped attempting to scream, her mouth gaping open and her face filled with agony and horror.

She felt a crushing pressure in her chest as another zombie managed to grasp hold of her franticly beating heart, giving it a good squeeze before tearing the muscle free. Aya watched as the reanimated corpse took a large bite out of her heart then her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp in the zombies' embraces. The zombie between Aya's thighs thrust as hard as he could into her yielding pussy and released his load of cum. Her stomach had been so hollowed out that the head of the zombie's cock could be seen poking out of it. Wads of cum shot out from the wound and landed on her unmoving tits before slowly trickling down onto what remained of her stomach and the black dress she was wearing. The corpse of Rebecca grew tired of chewing on Aya's shoulder and twisted the dead woman's head to the side so she could get a good chunk of her throat between her teeth, tearing away at the flesh. In the shuffle of the zombies all trying to get a piece of the lovely woman, her high heels were knocked off of her feet, falling to the ground with a clatter. Her purse fell soon after, spilling the contents all over the place.


Chapter Thirteen: Kaori Nishidake

Kaori Nishidake soared down the snow covered mountain at a blurring speed. The wind blew past her, billowing across her lithe young body wrapped tightly in an orange turtleneck sweater and skintight beige thermal pants balanced perfectly on her snowboard. This was what she lived for. Even the cold weather couldn't keep the warmth out of her nether regions. Nothing got her motor running better than a ride down the slopes. She'd already decided to grab the first person she saw once she got to the bottom of the mountain and take them back to her room for a wild romp. Well, the first attractive person I see, she thought. She did have standards after all.

The snowboarder's light brown hair, pulled up into twin ponytails, fluttered behind her in the wind. Tinted goggles kept the icy chilled wind from stinging her eyes as well as kept her from going snow blind. Kaori spotted a pile of snow perfect for jumping and lowered her body to pick up even more speed. As she reached the upward curve, the girl launched herself into the air, snowboard and all. She spun and twisted, doing what she did best, before straightening herself and landing straight back on the ground again. A moment later and she would've landed on her head, ruining a perfectly good set of stunts and not to mention totally thrashing herself up. The thought of how close perfection came to disaster just made her panties moisten even more.

Kaori quickly regained the speed she'd lost in her jump, and as the mountain tilted more vertically she picked up even more speed. Air whistled by her ears and her heart pounded as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her eyes widened as she saw the sharp incline would come to an end rather abruptly in front of her, curving level and then upwards. It was the perfect jump for some major tricks, but looking just past it she saw that there was a crevasse just beyond the jump. If she screwed up or didn't make it far enough, she'd wind up falling to her very painful demise. A smirk formed on Kaori's mouth and she lowered herself to get as much speed going for her as possible. This was it. Do or die time. What she lived for and what kept her warm on cold, snowy nights.

The girl's head spun as she reached the dramatic change in direction and before she knew it, she was high in the air again. Either she'd make the jump or she wouldn't, no time to worry about that now. Best to make it the greatest jump of her life and throw in as many tricks as possible. Flipping, twisting, turning, spinning. She flew through the mountain air until suddenly everything changed. The intensely bright white surroundings turned black. For a moment, she thought she'd fallen into the crevasse but as she looked, she didn't see anything that could be classified as snowy or rocky. How she'd traveled from a mountain to the middle of an urban city, she had no idea, and she wasn't given too much time to think about it, because the ground was coming fast. The hard, cement ground.

The impact was worse than she ever could have expected. She managed to land board-first, but that was no protection. She flipped forward, slamming her shoulder into the ground and feeling it break. She continued to roll, gaining numerous scrapes and bruises. Her feet, still attached to her board, twisted the wrong way and both of her ankles snapped. Kaori screamed in agony as she continued to twist and turn, burning off the immense speed she'd accumulated with her body. As thick as her sweater was, it provided little protection against the hard cement. Her breasts were pummeled and scraped, causing her nipples to ache terribly. Finally, her tumble was ended as she smacked headfirst into the side of a brick building. Pain shot through her forehead and then nothingness.

The battered snowboarder lay in a heap on the sidewalk, blood trickling down her face from the gouge in her forehead and the various other scrapes she'd gotten. Her right shoulder was protruding and her legs were oddly bent. Her snowboard was almost as badly damaged as she was. One twisted, broken foot had managed to get free of the board, but the other was still strapped in. Kaori's chest rose and fell shallowly. She was still alive, for now, but thoroughly unconscious. Shadows fell over the abused young woman; Rebecca leading her group of roaming undead. The zombies lacked any form of higher thought pattern. All they knew was that they kept being given tasty morsels of nubile flesh to molest and devour. They weren't about to start complaining, even if they knew how to.

Rebecca dropped to her knees in front of the unconscious Kaori, reaching down and starting to pull at her tattered thermal pants. They came down, revealing her moist panties. The moistness was no longer just her juices of arousal. During her crash landing, she'd pissed herself. That didn't bother Rebecca in the slightest, yanking down the girl's underwear and burying her face in her snatch, her nose rubbing up against her trimmed patch of pubic hair. Kaori let out a low moan but didn't wake up as Rebecca's tongue played over her clit. A pair of male zombies on either side of the girl took hold of her sweater and pulled on it until it ripped apart, revealing her perky, young tits with cherry pink nipples.

A third zombie climbed onto Kaori's chest, straddling her and placing his cock between her breasts, squeezing on the mounds of flesh and pushing them together around his member before thrusting between them. The two zombies who had torn her sweater off dropped the shredded fragments of clothing and shuffled over to her head, springing free their erections and poking at her flushed face with them. She let out another moan as Rebecca continued to eat her out and it was the only opportunity the two zombies needed to push their rotting slabs of meat between her lips and into her mouth, filling her up with them.

Kaori slowly came around, throbbing pain immersing her body, but mixed equally with the pleasure of being in the middle of some kind of orgy. Her eyes remained closed, because she was only half-conscious, but she was awake enough to start suckling on the pricks in her mouth. A squirt of the snowboarder's juices splattered onto Rebecca's face. She licked them away and kept lapping at the girl's gushing pussy. The zombie tit-fucking young Kaori's perfect tits came as well, shooting his load onto her cock-filled face. The girl continued to release muffled moans, making her throat and mouth vibrate, in turn causing the zombies who were fucking her mouth to let out their own moans. They both pushed deeply past her lips and sent large globs of cum into her mouth before pulling out of her.

Kaori coughed as she had trouble swallowing the semen and that helped bring her further into consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and focused onto the decaying face of one of the zombies who'd just released himself in her mouth. She opened her mouth to scream just as the zombie opened his mouth as well. Before she managed to release her scream, the corpse chomped down into her throat, adding the coppery taste of hot blood to the lingering flavor of rancid jizz to her mouth and reducing her cry of terror to a wet gurgle. Blood poured out of her shredded throat as she lay on the sidewalk, surrounded by zombies.

Rebecca still hadn't finished slurping on the girl's cunt, still prodding with her tongue. Kaori felt the squirming tongue inside her, her brain screaming for her, asking what sort of monsters these things were. Her face grew pale and her head fell back, letting out another series of gurgles as her blood pooled around her. The tongue left her pussy and teeth dug into the inside of her thigh, tearing chunks of her away. All she'd ever wanted to do was ride the snow, daring fate and basking in the glory of being a daredevil. How could her life end like this? It just made no sense. What was happening? Kaori never found out. Her eyelids grew heavy and closed once more, leaving her very similar to the way the zombies had discovered her.


Chapter Fourteen: Ivy Valentine

Ivy Valentine's hair clung to her forehead from sweat. Flecks of blood covered her flushed face. She panted heavily, which caused her large breasts to bounce slightly in her tight-fitting and partially destroyed outfit. Her fingers clung tightly to her weapon, locked into its sword configuration at the moment. It seemed as if she'd been fighting the undead bastards for hours. No matter how many she cut down, they just kept coming. And a number of the ones she'd bisected had crawled up to her and started clawing and biting at her legs. She was running out of energy.

Finally, with a last swing of her sword and another head flying to bounce along the ground, the horde was at an end. She took a few brief moments to catch her breath then took off running down the street, knowing that if she stayed still for too long, there'd be more enemies to kill. She had to find a place to rest up and then try to figure out what was happening. She didn't hear the low growl or the sound of approaching footfalls until it was too late. A large, heavy form struck her at the knees and sent her spinning head over heels into the air.

Tilting her head back to look down at her attacker, Ivy spotted the four-legged beast that had struck her. With a flick of her wrist, she sent her sword extending out into its whip form and lassoed it around the creature's thick neck then grabbed hold and used the weapon to right herself and land on the monster's back, straddling it. The hell hound bucked, trying to throw Ivy off, but she clung tightly to her sword, moving with each jerk. She yanked back hard, trying to saw the sword fragments through the thing's neck, but its skin was too tough. Without warning, it pushed back onto its rear legs, standing almost completely upright. Ivy leaned forward to keep her balance. Then it moved down just as quickly and she found her world spinning again.

This time, Ivy had no chance of saving herself. The top of her skull cracked into the cement hard, sending a sharp pain through her head and down her spine. She flopped onto the ground in a crumpled heap before the annoyed hell hound. Ivy let out a groan and tried to sit up only to realize she couldn't. Panic filled her as she realized she couldn't feel her arms or legs. The likelihood that she’d suffered a major spinal injury seemed high. Looking into the rage-filled eyes of the beast before her, she didn't think she'd live long enough to regret it. She was wrong.

The hell hound lunged forward and Ivy was certain her throat would be torn out. Instead, it latched onto the front of her costume and tore it away, letting her large tits bounce free. Her costume ripped down to her crotch, leaving only her leggings behind. The hell hound released the shredded clothing and came back to Ivy, nudging between her legs with its snout. Even more panic flooded her mind and she tried even harder to move to no effect. The beast knocked her thighs open. A puddle of piss had already formed under her after she'd hit the ground, being unable to control her body. It didn't bother the Hell Hound in the least as it lapped at her cunt.

Ivy was thankful she couldn't actually feel the thing's tongue, but it didn't make the situation that much better. She watched in shock and horror as it proceeded to thoroughly slobber all over her moist slit. After a few minutes, it moved its head up to glare into Ivy's eyes and positioned itself between her legs. Looking between herself and the beast, she spotted the huge cock sliding out of its body. She watched it move closer to her pussy and eventually rest against it, but she still didn't feel anything. Then the beast thrust its hips forward, impaling her on the rock hard cock. She heard tearing flesh and knew it had to be hers, but there was no pain except for in her head. It made for a very surreal experience; watching herself being raped by the demon dog, but not feeling anything from it. It was like it wasn't happening.

Ivy's mind cracked as the hell hound pounded into her pussy. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaking down her cheeks, and told herself none of it was real. If she kept her eyes closed, maybe she wouldn't even know when the thing killed her. That seemed like an even worse hell than actually seeing it happen, so she opened her eyes again just in time to see the beast take one of her glorious breasts in its mouth and chomp down. No pain, but she felt the warm flecks of blood and fat splash onto her face. The tit was torn free and chewed thoroughly before being swallowed. Then she watched as her other breast shared a similar fate. Blood oozed out of her chest to pool around her torso.

The Hell Hound pushed as hard as it could into her and held itself there for a while. Ivy assumed it was cumming in her. Her suspicions were confirmed when it pulled its limp cock free of her stretched cunt. It didn't bother resting at all before lowering its head back to her pussy, giving one last, long lick with its tongue, and then tearing into her with its sharp fangs. It ripped her cunt flesh free and continued upwards from there without Ivy feeling a single thing. She watched as her guts spilled out onto the ground and were scooped up and devoured, followed by more of her organs. The thing then buried its head into her chest cavity after her stomach had been hollowed out and tore her franticly beating heart away. She watched the precious organ being chewed slowly, as if the thing was savoring it. Ivy's vision faded shortly after and she was thankful that she'd finally expire but even more thankful for her paralysis.

She was in for a final surprise. As her vision grew darker, she saw the Hell Hound lunge forward at her face. Then came the pain. She felt fangs digging into her cheeks and squeezing. As quickly as she was dying, it still wasn't fast enough to escape the pain of her face being crushed and torn away. Her cheeks, nose, lips, and eyes were all ripped off and eaten, leaving a mass of blood, glistening brain, and limp tongue remaining. Ivy’s death came suddenly and filled with complete agony.


Chapter Fifteen: Princess Zelda

Princess Zelda let out a terrified scream as she was tackled to the hard ground by one of the numerous zombies shuffling towards her. She franticly beat on the dead man's chest as he pinned her to the ground. The zombie let out a hungered moan, breathing his decaying breath into Zelda's face. The young princess scrunched up her face in disgust at the stink that invaded her nostrils. She let out a startled yelp as the zombie on top of her tore the front of her dress downwards, revealing her twin, milky white orbs of flesh. Her tits bounced from the sudden removal of her clothing and her rosy pink nipples grew hard from the cool night air. The zombie lowered his face into Zelda's cleavage and licked and sucked on her breasts. The princess whimpered and tried to wiggle her way out from under the dead man, but his weight held her firmly to the rough ground. She raised her small hands, clenching them into fists, and pummeled the zombie on his head. Letting out an annoyed sounding moan, the zombie lifted his head and tried to grab at her wrists. The shift in weight was all she needed and Zelda slid out from under the zombie, scrambling to her feet, and turned to dash away.

A cold hand grabbed hold of her ankle just as she began to flee, drawing a startled cry from her as she tripped. She fell forward onto the ground again, knocking her chin against the brick street and scrapping her bare breasts. As her chin hit the ground, it made her jaw clamp shut and, unluckily, the tip of her tongue managed to get trapped between her colliding teeth. She let out a howl of pain and tasted coppery blood fill her mouth as the tip of her tongue was severed and fell to the ground in front of her. She spit some of the blood out of her mouth and crawled forward as the zombie she'd just escaped crawled forward over her back. The zombie grabbed hold of the bottom of Zelda's dress and yanked it up until her round buttocks were revealed. He reached down and squeezed and groped them, feeling her flesh move under the fabric of her panties. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of the girl's underwear, the zombie tore the panties away, uncovering her ass completely. Moving his head forward into the crack of Zelda's ass, he pushed her cheeks apart and licked at her sphincter. Zelda gasped as the slimy tongue wiggled back and forth across her sensitive anus. The zombie pushed his tongue against the small hole, managing to force the tip of his tongue into the tight orifice. Zelda let out an involuntary moan at the slight penetration. Tingles of pleasure flowed through her from the anal tonguing she received, making the pain in her mouth fade to a dull throbbing.

The zombie's hands gripped Zelda's hips as he buried his face in her ass, continuing to probe her asshole with his tongue. A second male zombie approached the pair, stopping at Zelda's head before dropping to his knees in front of the fallen princess. He pulled his pants open to release his erection, which knocked against Zelda's blonde hair. The impact gained her attention and she tiled her head back to look at what had struck her. Her eyes widened in shocked surprise upon catching sight of the erection in front of her. The zombie grabbed hold of her head and held it in place before thrusting his cock forward between her lips and into her bloody mouth. Zelda gagged as the head of the zombie's prick pushed into her throat. The zombie enjoyed the feeling of her tight throat muscles contracting around his shaft, so he pushed deeper into her, cutting off her airflow. Zelda struggled, trying to pull her head back off the cock lodged in her throat so she could breathe. Her wounded tongue thrashed around in her mouth, batting against the undead cock and giving the zombie even more pleasure. His fingers moved through Zelda's blonde locks and pulled her head forward while grinding his hips against her face. Zelda released a muffled cry of desperation as her face grew red from asphyxia.

The pleasure of the zombie lapping at her ass had been forgotten as the zombie cock rammed down her throat. The presence of the dead man's face in her ass was brought back into her mind as he stopped pleasurably tonguing her and tore into her with his teeth. Another muffled scream emitted from Zelda's stuffed mouth as the zombie's teeth ripped into her ass, tearing chunks of flesh from her buttocks. She kicked her legs as best she could but could just barely knock them into the zombie's sides and they had little effect on the living corpse. Meanwhile, the zombie at her head pounded his cock deeper and deeper into her tight throat. Zelda's face was a deep red and her eyes bulged. Bloody drool escaped her stretched lips and dribbled down her chin, dripping onto the ground in long strands. Her vision went grey and the pain of her ass being devoured faded. Shortly after the cock in her mouth spurted jizz down her throat, Zelda blacked out. After his load was deposited into the girl, the zombie pulled his softening member out of her mouth. He released his hold on her hair and let her head fall limply to the ground. With the obstruction no longer in her throat, Zelda started to breathe again, although she was still unconscious.

The zombie eating Zelda's ass pulled his bloody face away from what remained of the princess's butt cheeks, licking his lips as clean as possible. He crawled forward some more, until his stiff cock pressed into the blood-covered ass of the unconscious girl. The zombie pushed his cock into Zelda's tight sphincter, her blood and unconscious state helping to ease the process. Once inside, he humped against her bloody butt, reaching his hands around her to squeeze her scrapped breasts. Lowering his mouth to one of Zelda's shoulders, the zombie chewed on her flesh there, tearing a chunk free and swallowing it down. His thrusts into her tight asshole grew harder and faster as he drew closer to climax. Underneath the zombie, Zelda stirred. Her eyes remained closed but her mouth opened and she let out a soft moan. Her body gyrated against the thrusting zombie, grinding her wounded ass upwards as the undead cock drove down. She let out a louder moan as the zombie unloaded his globs of cum deep into her bowels and chomped into her shoulder yet again. Zelda's eyes finally opened, revealed as a murky white. Her eyes looked downwards at the ground below her and caught sight of the severed bit of tongue that had come from her own mouth a little while ago. She lowered her face and sucked the small piece of muscle into her mouth before chewing on it several times and swallowing.

The zombie on her back pulled free from her half-eaten ass and pushed himself back to his feet. The newly zombified Zelda remained on the ground for about a minute before she managed to push herself up. She shuffled after the zombie that had so recently been ass fucking her, blood still oozing down the back of her thighs. The tiny morsel she'd eaten was nothing compared to the burning hunger she now felt in her guts and she intended to follow the few remaining instincts her deteriorated brain had left, and find something to eat.


Chapter Sixteen: Chun Li

After defeating the first, quite massive wave of zombies, Chun Li had stopped to take a breather. She'd heard the sound of shuffling feet and hungry moans in the distance and turned to look down the street of the dead city she'd suddenly found herself in. Her spirits sank as she spotted a second, even larger group of the living dead shambling towards her. This pack appeared to be led by a dead, half naked woman with blood-stained blonde hair and long, elven ears. The Chinese girl had seen plenty of strange things, and the living dead were certainly high on the list, but the dead woman at the head of this new pack just seemed so oddly out of place, like from a different time. Deciding that standing and fighting was only going to tire herself out quickly, Chun Li turned and ran in the opposite direction. She rounded a corner and then another, intending to lose her pursuers and hoping she wouldn't run across any more. Finally, after she could no longer hear any moans or shuffles, or much else for that matter, she broke into an apartment complex and headed up the stairs until she reached the rooftop access. She spotted a partially devoured young woman wearing the tattered remains of an orange turtleneck but didn’t stick around long enough to search for whatever had killed her.

Stepping out onto the roof of the apartment building, Chun Li scanned the night sky. It was a bit off looking. The moon, totally full, seemed a bit larger than usual and was blood red. It wasn't a change in the coloration of the moon itself, though, because as she scanned the sky some more, she realized the reddish hue was in the atmosphere. It was truly odd. She walked over to the nearest edge of the rooftop and looked down at the street below. She couldn't see any of the zombies wandering around at that point. As her adrenalin left her, exhaustion flowed through her body. Before being mysteriously teleported to the hellish world, she'd just finished a rigorous training session. She'd been on her way to the shower when she'd blinked into this world, hence why she wasn't wearing a top. Her large breasts glistened with sweat that was just starting to dry, and her nipples were tightened into hard nubs from the cool air and exertion of her body.

Thankfully, she still had the lower half of her outfit on. Fighting topless was bad enough, but she didn't know if she could manage to fight totally in the nude. At the moment, she wasn't sure if she could fight anymore at all, as tired and sore as she was. Chun Li turned away from the ledge and moved back towards the center of the roof. She moved back to the door she'd come through and secured it as best she could then turned and sat down, leaning her back against it. She figured if any of those undead bastards followed her up, they'd get her attention the moment they tried to get the door open. With that reassurance in her mind, she leaned her head back against the door and let her eyes drift closed. Maybe after a brief nap, she'd regain enough strength to find a way out of the hell hole she'd been taken to.

Chun Li was awoken suddenly as firm hands gripped her ankles and yanked her body away from the door she was leaning against. The rough ground of the rooftop scraped against her bare back and she looked up at her attacker. It looked humanoid, for the most part, but it was still rather different. Its skin was reddish and had great muscle tone. It had a bald head and pointed ears, with black eyes and sharp, pointy fangs in its mouth. Its hands and feet were clawed and she could see a pair of leathery wings sprouting from its back. Apparently, that was how it had managed to get to the rooftop without using the door. After noting its monstrous features, Chun Li noticed one of its more humanoid ones. Dangling between its muscular thighs was a large, thick phallus, already starting to pulsate and grow hard as the beast eyed the young woman's large tits, which were still jiggling a bit from the sudden jerking it had given her. Chun Li tried to kick out at the monster while flipping to her feet. As she managed the move, the winged creature lashed out with one of its clawed hands and slashed across her face. Searing pain struck her, as well as a powerful blow that sent her reeling backwards into the closed door behind her. Chun Li bounced from the door and stumbled forward into the beast, blood pouring from her shredded cheek.

As the Chinese woman fell against the monster, it encompassed her in a bear hug, squeezing its muscular arms around her lithe form. Her large breasts were squeezed together and up against the chest of the demon, her stiff nipples rubbing against its hard pectoral muscles. Chun Li whimpered as the thing's claws dug into her bare back and more of her blood trickled down and soaked into the fabric of her lower clothing. The pressure on her chest increased until she had trouble breathing. Her ribs strained in protest and she knew it would only be a matter of time before they broke. She screamed in agony as the time came and she felt and heard her ribs snap in sequence. Every audible snap and crunch of her bones was drowned out by her series of high pitched screams of pain. Finally, the beast released her and she fell back to the rooftop, panting and whimpering, cradling her arms around her aching chest. While she was distracted, the winged monster crouched down in front of her and reached out, grabbing hold of the clothing that covered her lower regions. Its claws made short work of the fabric and in a matter of moments Chun Li lay nude, with the exception of her shoes and the ties that kept her hair into twin balls on top of her head. It had happened so fast, that until she felt the cool breeze against her nether regions, Chun Li hadn't even realized she'd been stripped. "No..." she managed to mutter in a pained voice before the monster knocked her thick thighs apart and leapt on top of her.

Chun Li felt more pain as the monster dug its claws into her shoulders, the tips pushing against her bones. Pushing itself between her legs, the demon guided its ten inch erection to the bare slit of the Chinese woman's crotch. The tip of its cock prodded at her and she let out a pained whimper before crying out as it slammed its full length into her tight cunt. Her back arched and she pushed her chest upwards into the chest of the beast that was raping her. The movement made her broken ribs shift inside of her and more pain throbbed throughout her body. The demon pumped itself in and out of Chun Li's snatch, feeling the warm walls of her vagina wrapping around its member. The small, stubby tail growing from just above the creature's ass wagged back and forth from the pleasure the beast took from the wounded woman. After slamming into her enough times to make Chun Li's hips sore, the demon pulled out of her and flipped her onto her chest. Chun Li struggled and attempted to crawl away but the demon's clawed hands dug into her back and pinned her to the ground. The thing's cock pushed between her round ass cheeks and she screamed as it impaled her anus on its hard meat. The thrusts started again, and the blood from her torn sphincter helped to lube the penetration, but not by much. The demon hooked its arms around her, the claws gripping into her large breasts. Then she heard the sound of flapping, and felt air beaten down on her. A moment later, she was airborne with the creature.

The beast flew through the night air, clutching Chun Li's wounded form close to itself as it pumped its erection in and out of her bleeding asshole. The Chinese woman's thick legs dangled below her, blood trickling down them before dripping from her toes and dropping the long distance to the ground below. The pounding in her rear grew harder and she suspected the monster was nearing its climax. She was proved right yet again as a moment later, molten hot jizz spewed into her bowels. She released a pained scream as the burning fluid filled her up. The pain was so great, she didn't even notice when the demon released her from its grip. The increase of air fluttering past her and making her hair blow wildly made Chun Li open her tear-filled eyes. As soon as she opened them slightly, it only took a moment before they went wide as she saw the hard ground rushing towards her. She managed to release a terrified, high-pitched scream that was cut short moments later as her slender body collided with the street with a sickening, wet thud. Her face was mostly demolished from the impact, nose shattering and teeth breaking free. Her large breasts exploded, sending blood, fat and milk squirting out from under her. Her bones shattered from the hard landing. There was no doubt she was dead on impact. Her body managed a few weak twitches that quickly slacked off, but they hadn't managed to stop completely by the time Zombie Zelda and the rest of the zombies found the dead Chinese woman lying in the middle of the street. They gathered around the corpse and feasted on her.


Chapter Seventeen: Yuffie Kisaragi

Yuffie struggled against the horde of zombies that surrounded her. She tried to fight them off, but whenever she punched or kicked one away, another would take their place. She was completely surrounded and they were closing in tighter and tighter. One zombie lurched forward from behind her and grabbed hold of her right arm, yanking it back. Another one gripped her left arm. She thrashed and kicked out her legs, but it didn't do much good and the zombies continued to advance on her. Two more zombies grabbed hold of the girl's thrashing legs and lifted them up into the air, effectively suspending her above the road she'd been fleeing down. The four zombies holding her limbs tugged them out away from her, moving her into a spread eagle position. The ones holding her arms lifted them up to their mouths and bit into her hands, tearing her fingers away. Yuffie screamed in pain as the undead teeth bit at her hands. A fifth zombie moved between her spread thighs and grabbed hold of the front of her green top before yanking it away. Her pale tits bounced wildly from the sudden removal of the garment. The zombie reached up and caressed Yuffie's breasts, rubbing against her small, pink nipples and causing them to tighten up.

Another zombie grabbed a handful of Yuffie's hair and yanked her head back painfully. Her equilibrium swirled as her vision was turned upside down but as her eyes adjusted, her mouth gaped open as she tried to scream. Before she could, the zombie that had yanked her head back thrust his rotting erection into the young woman's mouth and down her throat. Yuffie gagged around the rancid meat and tried to pull away but the zombie gripped her head and pumped back and forth into her mouth. The zombie between Yuffie's legs dragged one of his hands down her slender stomach, raking his cracked nails across her until he grasped the waistband of her shorts. More fabric tore as the zombie ripped through her shorts, exposing her white panties. The clean white fabric quickly grew moist and yellow as Yuffie pissed herself in fear. The rank odor didn't bother the zombie as he tore through the panties and exposed the thick bush of her dark brown pubic hair. The zombie at her crotch buried his face in her piss-soaked cunt and lapped at the girl's wet pussy lips. Yuffie let out a disgusted moan that was muffled due to the thick zombie cock in her mouth.

More zombies gathered around the girl, reaching in to grope and molest her young body. Her tits her gripped harshly, while others reached under her and rubbed against her back and buttocks. The zombies holding her legs managed to chew through the material of her boots and chomped into her feet, severing her toes with a series of cracks. Yuffie released more muffled screams as the pain grew. As she sucked in what air she could around the zombie cock in her mouth, thick globs of undead jizz shot down her throat and she wound up sucking it right into her lungs. Yuffie coughed violently and the zombie cum spewed out of her mouth and nose. As she coughed, the zombie who had his face buried in her cunt decided he'd licked at it enough and opened his mouth wide before chomping down and tearing free a good chunk of sensitive flesh and a mouthful of pubic hair. Yuffie's coughs turned back into screams of agony as her womanhood was suddenly torn away from her. The zombie's holding her partially devoured limbs dug into them, wanting more meat from her. As the limp zombie cock dropped from her mouth, Yuffie wailed in pain as she was tugged in four separate directions at once.

With a series of pops, cracks, and rips, Yuffie's limbs gave way, leaving only her torso remaining. She hit the ground hard, screaming nonstop as her blood pumped rapidly from the four stubs that remained of her arms and legs. Her skin quickly grew pale and she became dizzy from blood loss. The zombies wasted no time dropping down around Yuffie's mortally wounded body. They reached out for her and tore into her, digging their fingers into her stomach and pulling her guts out. Her nipples were severed and torn away from her tits and shortly after that, the rest of her breasts followed. Yuffie watched with wide, horrified eyes as she was eaten by the zombies. Finally, the one that had fucked her mouth returned to her head and grabbed hold of it again. By then, Yuffie was nearly gone but she could still feel the pulling on her head, followed by a dull pop and ripping sound, then she was being lifted up into the air. She looked down, seeing the body of some poor girl who'd had her arms and legs torn off. When she saw the girl had no head, only a bloody stump, realization slowly settled into her dying mind. Her line of sight shifted and she came face to face with the zombie who had decapitated her. She felt his teeth against her lips, pulling them away from her face, and then her eyelids drifted half closed as she expired.

After Yuffie's torso had been hollowed out of organs, the zombie that had eaten her cunt shoved the lifeless torso over, revealing the relatively undamaged backside. Pulling his cock free, the zombie leaned over what remained of the girl's corpse and pushed himself into her tight asshole. As he fucked the dead girl's ass, he leaned forward and chewed on the stump of her neck.


Chapter Eighteen: Heather Mason

Heather Mason wasn't sure where she was. That wasn't a particularly new feeling, seeing as she'd been wandering through an apparent nightmare reality for what seemed like hours. Still, as twisted as the areas she'd ventured through had been, there'd always been a sort of dream-like state that accompanied them. This place felt different. She was no longer in a town, but what seemed to be a major city, except that the entire place looked deserted. Looks could be deceiving, though, and the eerie moans and intermittent high-pitched screams she heard told her that the city was definitely not deserted and that it wasn't a friendly place to be, either. Gripping the steel pipe she held, Heather walked down the sidewalk, trying each door she came to, looking for one that wasn't locked. She might not have any idea where she was now, but she knew she didn't want to stay on the streets.

Finding the door to a small shop unlocked, Heather entered and quickly locked it behind her. Looking around the shop, it was dark but not hard to tell that it was a shoe store. Like everything else in the city that she'd seen, it appeared as if it had just been abandoned. Heather walked further into the shop, looking around, her nerves tense. She expected some sort of hideous monster to pop out of any of the shadows that filled the store and it made her grip the pipe tighten. She headed for the doorway leading to the backroom, not wanting to stay out front with all the windows. As she reached the doorway, a dark figure lumbered towards her. She quickly took a step back, lifting her pipe up, ready to strike. As the figure moved into the room with her, she got a better look. It was a man, but it was clear he was dead, by the look of him as well as the awful smell emanating from him.

Letting out a grunt of exertion, Heather swung the pipe at the zombie. The sound of the metal colliding with the man’s chest brought forth a sharp snapping and she knew she’d broken at least a few of his ribs. But the man didn’t recoil in pain. Instead, he let out a groan of yearning and lurched towards the young woman who’d attacked him. Crying out, Heather backed away from the zombie. She tried to lift the pipe back into a striking position but as she did, the zombie grabbed hold of the other end of it and yanked it away from her. With her only weapon stolen from her, Heather could only run. She spun around, eyes fixed on the door she’d just entered from, and ran towards it. The surprise of coming face to face with the zombie had caused her to forget that she’d locked the door. Her hands fumbled with the handle for precious moments before she remembered. She flipped the lock open and breathed a sigh of relief, just as the zombie behind her swung Heather’s own weapon against her.

The pipe clunked across the back of the girl’s head. She cried out as her body was knocked forward against the door. Warm blood trickled down the back of her neck as she stumbled awkwardly. Her hands continued to fumble with the door knob, trying to get it open, but she found the task even more difficult now that she was fighting to stay conscious. Heather released a muttered moan of dismay as the zombie yanked her away from the door and back into the shop. She reached out for her route of escape, helplessly waving her arms at the door as she was dragged away. The zombie spun Heather around and shoved her against the checkout counter. He bent the young woman over the counter and reached down to pull her short skirt up and over her perky buttocks. Heather cried out and tried to push the zombie away, but the throbbing in her head had her dizzy and disoriented. She could do nothing as the undead man tugged her panties down and exposed the pale flesh of her ass cheeks.

Realizing he was still holding the pipe in one hand, the zombie looked from the weapon to the young woman’s exposed crotch. He lowered the pipe and guided the end of it between Heather’s thighs. The girl whimpered as the cold metal touched against her sensitive cunt lips and then screamed out as the zombie shoved the pipe into her body. He kept pushing the pipe deeper until it tore through the roof of her uterus and lodged in her guts. Blood flowed freely out of Heather’s pipe-stuffed pussy and ran down the insides of her shivering thighs. With the pipe out of the way, the zombie focused his full attention on the tasty young woman he had before him. He released his rigid cock from his pants and moved up behind her. With her cunt already occupied, the zombie instead guided himself to Heather’ virgin asshole.

Heather’s eyes bulged and she let out a high pitched howl of pain as the zombie’s thick member forced its way into her tight rear. The pain in her head became nothing compared to the pain between her legs. She sobbed openly as she endured the humiliating agony of the double penetration of zombie cock and steel pipe. Her breasts rubbed against the surface of the counter as her body was shifted back and forth across it by the zombie’s hard thrusts into her bleeding asshole. The zombie spotted the bloody gash across the back of Heather’s head and leaned over her so he could probe the wound with his bloated tongue. Heather winced from the stinging pain of the zombie’s tonging, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the other traumas she was being put through.

As the zombie’s balls grew tight and his orgasm rolled through him, he fired his sticky spunk into Heather’s ass. With his lust dealt with, his hunger took control. He tried to bite his way through the back of the young woman’s head, but found her skull too tough to chomp through. Groaning with annoyance, the zombie shuffled back a step. His spent member popped free of Heather’s stretched asshole. The zombie looked down, spotting the end of the pipe protruding from the girl’s snatch. His undead mind wasn’t particularly active, but he was smart enough to figure out that if he wanted to feast on the tasty meal that was Heather’s brain, he would need a tool to get into it first. Gripping the end of the pipe, the zombie unsheathed it from the girl’s bloody pussy. Heather gasped with fresh agony as the pipe slid out of her.

Lifting the pipe up high above his head, the zombie brought it down with a hard strike against the back of Heather’s head. The girl cried out, her limbs jerking out wildly as she suffered a severe brain rattling. Another gash opened up but the zombie wasn’t satisfied. He swung the pipe down on Heather’s head again. And again. Blood drizzled from the young woman’s nostrils and poured from her ears as her mouth hung open and her eyes rolled around. Bloody piss gushed from her crotch as her broken asshole twitched a few times before a spray of warm, cum-drenched shit poured out of her. With a final swing, the back of Heather’s battered skull caved in. The zombie allowed the bloody pipe to slip free of his hands as he stared in awe at the gooey brains now revealed to him. He leaned back over the twitching corpse of Heather Mason and buried his face in the back of her head, chewing messily at her delicious brain.


Chapter Nineteen: Shego

Shego’s emerald eyes slowly opened. Her brow furrowed with confusion as she failed to recognize her surroundings. Pushing herself up, she looked around, finding herself lying in a hospital bed. She couldn’t recall being in any accidents and her body seemed intact, but there was no doubt she’d been admitted as a patient. Her trademark suit had been removed and replaced with a patient gown. Above and beyond the bizarre location she’d awoken in, something about the room felt off. Nothing seemed out of place, but Shego couldn’t shake the feeling that the place had been abandoned. More annoyed than worried, the villainess kicked the bedsheet away and slid out of the bed, muttering a curse as her bare feet touched against the frigid tiled floor.

Considering she had no memory of how or why she’d arrived at the hospital, Shego turned her thoughts to the last things she could remember. She’d had yet another argument with Dr. Drakken, ending with her storming out of his secret lair. After that, everything got fuzzy. The most likely cause of her situation was that she’d finally pushed her boss too far and he’d decided to teach her some sort of lesson. The only thing that made Shego doubt Drakken was responsible was the fact that, seemingly, whatever scheme he’d put in place had actually been successful. From her experience, the blundering supervillain seemed incapable of doing much of anything without her assistance. And Shego was fairly certain she hadn’t organized her own abduction.

Shego found her green and black suit in the room’s closet. She pulled the patient gown off, briefly exposing her pale green flesh before squeezing into the skintight outfit. The fabric clung firmly to her like a second skin, holding her close and comforting her in a way no other article of clothing ever could. Once she had the suit zipped up, Shego stretched to shake loose the fogginess of her muscles. Whoever was responsible for her unscheduled detour to the hospital would regret it. If Drakken was actually behind the scheme, she’d have to remove herself from his service in a much more official way; one that she was certain the Doctor would not be happy with. Ready and willing to combat her confusion with mayhem and pain, Shego pulled the door to the hospital room open and strode out into the hall.

The stench of decay struck Shego the moment she entered the hall. Flinching against the stink, she didn’t have to search very long to find the source. The hallway was stuffed with shambling corpses. A tickle of a thought crossed her mind as she tried to figure out what sort of devious plan had been set in motion for her. Some kind of biological weapon designed to kill and reanimate victims seemed likely. Whoever had kidnapped her no doubt intended for her to become just another mindless undead husk, but something had clearly gone wrong. Perhaps she was immune to whatever disease had decimated the rest of the hospital’s patients and staff. If so, it certainly put Drakken at the forefront of culprits. The idiot would screw up this badly, she thought as the groaning corpses spotted her and started shuffling and shoving their way towards her with ravenous lust in their eyes.

Shego’s fists clenched, emitting a green glow as her power surged within her. She threw an emerald energy bolt into the face of the nearest zombie. His head exploded, sending a spray of mushy brains splattering across the walls and the undead just behind him. The body dropped, but the zombies didn’t take any notice, continuing to shuffle towards her. They reached out for her, moaning with urgent excitement. Shego noticed the zombies’ visible signs of arousal and smirked. Even the walking dead know how good I look, she thought as she sent another energy blast through an undead nurse’s chest, causing her tits to rupture and her chest cavity to explode outwards, ripping her body apart. Gathering up a solid charge within her right hand, Shego swiped her arm from one side of the hall to the other, laser thin shots of green arching out from her fingertips and burning through four rotting faces. Although there seemed to be no shortage of the zombies, they died easily enough. As the group crowding the hall thinned out, Shego took her time, enjoying the act of extinguishing each walking corpse.

When there was only a partially disrobed doctor left alive in the hall, Shego decided to do a little more investigative destruction. Grabbing hold of the groaning man, she shoved him to the floor. Then she began to systematically take him apart. She blasted his arms and legs away, taking not of how unresponsive he was to the dismemberment. He seemed to feel no pain, continuing to stretch his head towards her and gnash his teeth. Reaching down to take hold of his exposed cock – standing at firm attention – Shego fed a devastating jolt of energy into the fleshy member, causing it to explode within her grip. The zombie doctor groaned with annoyance, but still felt no pain. “Interesting,” Shego muttered, wiping her gore-drenched hand clean on the doctor’s lab coat. Even if she’d been intended as a target, Shego couldn’t bring herself to credit Drakken with the creation of the undead monstrosities. It was too dark, too twisted of a scheme for him. Fresh excitement flowed into the villainess as she turned her thoughts to the potential of whatever evil force was behind the perverted reanimation of the hospital’s denizens.

Shego continued to dismantle the undead doctor, determining that destroying the head was the only means of truly extinguishing the unlife. Whatever sour attitude she’d awoke with was long gone, but her curiosity had only grown stronger. She wanted to find whoever had created the zombies. She was finished with Drakken. She wanted to play in the big leagues of super villainy. Shego made her way deeper into the hospital, dispatching zombies as necessary and looking for any clues as to the source of their scourge. Her mind wandered, conjuring up images of perfect little Kim Possible being raped and devoured by the zombies. Or, better yet, being transformed into one of the undead, mindlessly wandering in search of fresh meat to consume. It would make for a splendid end to their rivalry.

With the elevators as dead as the pile of corpses Shego had left in her wake, the green-skinned villainess found the stairs and headed down. Her brow furrowed with confusion as she found the first floor partially flooded. The murky water nearly came up to her knees. She forced the stairwell door open wide enough to slip through and discovered the rest of the floor was equally flooded. She could see no sign of where the water had come from, but more alarming was the lack of any zombies on the floor. The rest of the hospital had been thick with them. She sloshed her way down the hall, looking for a way out of the building while keeping her senses alert for any fresh danger waiting for her. Her excitement was tempered by a growing unease as her legs cut through the stagnant water. It wasn’t that Shego was afraid of water – she could swim just fine – but more so what tended to lurk within it. Aquatic predators had entirely too many teeth, as far as she was concerned.

As if her fears were capable of manifesting reality, Shego was halfway down the hall and had just spotted the hospital’s exit when something slimy slithered around her ankle. She hardly felt its touch, but her reaction was instant. With a startled yell, she fired a handful of energy blasts into the water as she tried to pull away from the slender tendril. Water splashed back against her, hissing and steaming as her power surged through it. “No,” she gasped as the tentacle clenched tighter around her ankle, undeterred by her blasts. Her leg was yanked forward, pulling her off balance and causing her to splash into the water. Shego tugged at her leg, desperate to get free of the snare as she threw more powerful fistfuls of glowing green energy at her unseen attacker.

A flurry of movement began within the water several feet ahead of where Shego had fallen. She watched with wide, horrified eyes as a multitude of other fleshy appendages fluttered upwards. A bubbling surge of water washed outwards from the central point of the disturbance before a massive maw filled with sharp teeth sprang upwards. Its flesh was a pale grey, covered in slick slime and tumorous bumps. A thick lid peeled open, exposing a huge eye that shifted to fix on the flailing villainess. Its circular maw twitched, gnashing its huge teeth together with excitement as it admired its latest catch. The Grinder was responsible for the hospital’s flooded state, having cracked its way through the sewer pipes running beneath the building and up through the floor. A twisting tangle of root-like tendrils still writhed within the broken pipes, securing it in place. Its lack of movement did not make it any less deadly, patiently lying in wait until something edible blundered into its reach.

Shego didn’t care where the Grinder had come from. She cared even less that it had grown hungry since the zombies infesting the hospital had learned not to wander downstairs. The panic she felt was uncommon to her, but she could do nothing to prevent it. She threw energy blasts at the creature with increasing intensity, panting heavily as she tried not to think of how little damage she saw her attacks causing. Despite the thing’s squishy skin, it seemed impervious to her abilities. Clenching her jaw, Shego drew forth an explosive ball of energy within her hands, gathering as much of it as she could before throwing it at the Grinder’s massive, bulbous central mass. The explosion sent a tidal wave of rancid water splashing over her, but did seemingly nothing to damage the creature. Panting heavily, Shego shifted tactics, leaning forward and desperately attempting to work her fingers under the tendril crushing her ankle.

Once its prey finished fighting, the Grinder’s tentacles slithered through the water to further snare the young woman. Shego cursed and screamed as her arms were pulled away from her body. She thrashed wildly, splashing through the water. She looked down at herself, eyes wide with horrified confusion as one of the tendrils popped open the front of her suit and freed her breasts. “What the fu – “ she muttered before another shoved its way past her lips. Her cheeks ballooned outwards as she gagged on the squirming length hard enough to puke. Chunky bile squirted from her stretched lips as the Grinder hastily stripped away her suit. The creature would have no trouble digesting the fabric, but it had found bare flesh far more delicious. Tentacles curled around Shego’s legs, wrenching them apart before hoisting them out of the water and into the air. Her exposed sex made for an inviting target that the Grinder didn’t hesitate to take advantage of, shoving one thick tendril into her cunt while another squirmed its way through her clenching asshole.

With her legs lifted up, Shego’s head was held beneath the surface of the water. Bubbles streamed from her lips as she screamed against the tentacle fucking her throat. Her fists glowed brightly, flinging out bolts of energy blindly in a frantic attempt to save herself. Her lungs burned with stale oxygen that was brutally raped out of her with each slamming plunge of the trio of tentacles filling her body. Before she drowned, the Grinder yanked her out of the water completely. She writhed within its grip, shameful tears blending with sewage water as she was flipped around and pulled over the grotesque, toothy maw of the monster. The pain and humiliation of the tentacle rape was awful, unlike anything she’d experienced in her lifetime, but it still didn’t come close to comparing with the utter terror she felt as she looked into the Grinder’s maw. So many teeth, she thought, whimpering around the appendage wiggling against her tongue. Too many. Oh, please, not like this.

The tentacles ravaging Shego’s holes shuddered with impending release. The one violating her mouth pulled free and slithered down to rub against her perky tits before unloading a heavy spray of watery spunk. It writhed about like an out of control firehose, drenching the villainess from head to toe with its seed. The one buried in her snatch punched its way through her cervix and forced her uterus to balloon outwards to maximum capacity as it came within her. The cum bubbled from her stretched cunt lips and ran back down the length of the tendril. The tentacle anally invading Shego slithered its way through her guts, fucking her ever deeper until it managed to shoved its way up the back of her throat and out her mouth. Shego’s eyes crossed as she watched the throbbing tip of the tendril shoot a geyser of jizz into the air above her, allowing it to rain down over her already soaked form.

With its lust satiated, the Grinder withdrew its tentacles from Shego’s shivering body. It dropped the young woman, allowing her to splash back into the water. The aching pains coursing through her thoroughly violated body were bad, but not bad enough to keep her from springing up into a half-crawl, half-swim away from the monstrosity. She made it only a few feet before one of the many appendages looped around her ankle again. Shego screamed, splashing her hands through the water as she was slowly dragged back towards her certain demise. She no longer admired whatever evil force was behind the hospital’s corruption, wanting nothing more than to escape the clutches of the creature before she became its dinner.

Shego’s shrieks shifted to a higher bitch as her bare feet slipped within the Grinder’s maw. The monster’s teeth tore into her like a garbage disposal, crushing and shredding her flesh and bones. A crimson hue stained the water above the Grinder’s mouth as it diligently chewed its way up Shego’s finely sculpted legs. The young woman howled and flailed helplessly as she was tugged ever deeper into the creature. Her smooth thighs became masticated strips of gory meat, slurped down the Grinder’s gullet, before she sank deep enough to feel her perky buttocks and sensitive snatch chewed through. The pain of her womanhood being ripped away and chewed into a savory paste caused her to puke again, the filth pouring down her chin and drizzling across her jiggling breasts.

Shego’s frantic flailing slackened as the Grinder chewed its way up her slender midsection. The sudden intense trauma of her graphic consumption threatened to throw her into an unconscious state. Shego would have welcomed it gladly, too terrified and in too much pain to wish to live any longer. Her head swayed back and forth, her screams drifting into pained groans as inky blackness swam into her vision. Her breasts were ripped open, spilling warm fat into the Grinder’s hungry mouth. Wet gurgles rose from Shego’s throat as her lungs were shredded. As the final moments of her life passed with excruciating slowness, she remained just barely aware to feel the remainder of her mostly destroyed carcass yanked beneath the water. The Grinder’s teeth closed around her slender throat, decapitating her with a decisive chomp. Her head barely had the chance to rise to the surface before one of the creature’s tendrils shoved it back down where it was promptly crushed and swallowed.

In the wake of the Grinder’s grisly feeding, the only thing that remained of Shego was a slowly dispersing pool of blood through the water and her tattered suit floating gently away. The Grinder settled itself under the surface of the water, digesting its sexy meal while it waited for another unfortunate victim to stumble into its clutches.


Thanks for the bump! Have a new chapter!

Chapter Twenty: Scarlett

Scarlett wished for her XK-1 power crossbow as she expelled precious small arms fire into one zombie after the next. She took her unexpected teleportation in stride, mainly due to the utter shit storm she’d been dropped into. The zombies had been thick in the room she’d appeared in. Beating the first wave back with hand-to-hand techniques, the redheaded soldier drew her pistol and promptly dispatched several more. She learned her adversaries’ weakness quick, zeroing in on one rotten face after the next to thin the herd. As she got a better look at her surroundings, she realized she was in a school. Judging by the various set dressings adorning the classroom, she guessed high school.

Scarlett’s habit of always being ready for action kept her from becoming immediate zombie chow. Aside from her sidearm, she also had a combat shotgun strapped to her back. The problem was that she’d not stashed any extra ammunition for either weapon before her unlicensed abduction. Normally, two magazines of 9mm bullets and a fully loaded shotgun was all she needed to get out of the average predicament. Unfortunately, Scarlett was cursed with the ability to count and do basic math, leaving her with the certain realization that she didn’t have enough rounds to even clear the room of undead freaks.

With no other options, Scarlett progressed, shooting her way towards the front of the classroom. When her pistol went dry, she used the gun itself as a projectile, flinging it into one zombie cheerleader’s face and knocking her front teeth out. Scarlett slid the shotgun from her back and held it at the ready, pumping the first of too few shells into place. The spray of the shotgun turned undead heads into soggy mush with ease, but it was far from the most efficient of weapons with such a small capacity for ammo. Ten or so more zombies fell before its might, but the weapon was empty far too quickly for Scarlett’s liking. Only halfway to the exit, she fell back on the only thing she had left: her fists and feet.

Even without weapons, Scarlett was a formidable combatant. Her strikes were smooth and hard, shattering bones to dust and knocking more than a few heads clean from their shoulders. But fighting the undead bastards hand-to-hand was less than ideal. It put Scarlett for too close to the creatures than she enjoyed. The putrid stench of their rotting flesh threatened to make her puke, all the more so when gelatinous chunks of them sprayed over her. But worse than the maelstrom of offending stenches wafting off of them were their ever-reaching hands, pawing for her. Without the intelligence to think of retreating from the woman slaughtering so many of their kind, they simply kept on grabbing for her until eventually their staggering numbers made up for their lack of durability.

Scarlett let out an angry yell as she found herself unable to pull free of the zombie horde. She wrestled against them as they tugged her deeper into their group. With so many bodies pressed so close to her, she didn’t have much leverage to break away. She gained a little hope when the zombies in front of her stumbled to either side, but the extra room was minimal and short lived before the mass of undead flesh pressing in from behind bent her over the teacher’s desk. She grunted and clenched her teeth, attempting to stand again but finding herself promptly shoved back down. Rotten hands held her in place, keeping her pinned as she struggled.

Scarlett was reminded of the disturbing glimpses she’d had of a few of the zombies’ exposed members, throbbing lengths of discolored dead cock bobbing about, as a couple of the things went to work at ripping through the crotch of her yellow and grey bodysuit. Dying on a mission – even an unsanctioned one – was one thing, but she refused to become a helpless sexual object for the perverted monstrosities. Pinned across the desk, at the mercy of thirty or so undead husks, that was very quickly exactly what Scarlett became. Broken fingernails managed to find enough give in her bodysuit to gather up clumps of it and tear through the tough fabric. Scarlett’s choice in undergarments matched her position in the military; full commando. The soft folds of her pussy, covered in a light layer of soft pubic hair that matched her head were revealed to the horny zombies and they quickly devolved into a minor shoving match to see which of them would have the pleasure of plundering her warm hole first.

The sexy combat veteran cried out as the first undead prick slammed its way balls deep into her snatch. She twisted her head to the side, glaring over her shoulder at the offending zombie, promising him a slow, painful demise once she got free. Her glare turned to horror as another of the zombies took a firm hold of her head and forced her to face front again. The bulbous tip of the undead man’s member smacked against her lips. Dropping a hand down to her throat and giving it a firm squeeze was enough to force her to part her lips and allow the rancid prick entry. Fear of potentially choking to death on the dislodged member was enough to keep her from embracing the urge to bit down as hard as she could.

Even undead, the largely teenage population of zombies infesting the schoolroom were packed full of hormones. They ravaged Scarlett’s cunt and mouth with quick pumps, firing sticky loads of jizz into her holes after only a handful of strokes. Cum bubbled from her lips as she coughed and kept on fighting, hating what was happening to her but somewhat hopeful that perhaps the creatures would tire themselves out enough that she could get away. She conserved as much strength as she could, releasing a blubbering groan of disgust as the creatures rolled her onto her back to attack her defenseless holes from a fresh set of angles.

One of the zombies climbed onto the desk and straddled Scarlett’s chest. He worked his fingers into the front of the woman’s turtleneck and ripped downwards, stripping away the front of her bodysuit and freeing her perky breasts. The zombie grabbed hold of the fleshy mounds and shifted forward, sliding his stiff member between them. Scarlett’s distinct tan lines left the majority of her breasts several shades paler than the rest of her. A smattering of freckles adorned the pale skin, tipped with soft pink nipples that the teenage zombie eagerly twisted on. The pre-cum drooling from the tip of his dick allowed him to speed his thrusts through Scarlett’s cleavage.

The cheerleader with the missing teeth shoved Scarlett’s thighs apart and buried her face in the woman’s cum-leaking cunt. Her surprisingly nimble tongue fluttered through Scarlett’s vaginal folds while Wendell – the biggest dweeb in the universe – admired the cheerleader’s perky rear as the bottom of the skirt rose higher. The cheerleader had nearly had her fill of undead cum and unwanted cunt honey when Wendell – emboldened by his lack of life – tugged the blonde pom-pom shaker away and tackled her to the floor. The horny nerd groaned with delight as he shoved his cock into the cheerleader’s greasy slit, unintentionally saving Scarlett from having her womanhood chewed to ribbons.

The next zombie that moved between Scarlett’s legs was a well-endowed former quarterback. In life, he’d taken a cruel form of pleasure from seeing how many girls’ assholes he could wreck with his oversized member. That desire had persisted even in undeath. Yanking Scarlett’s legs into the air and pushing them back towards her torso, he lifted the woman’s firmly toned buttocks from the table. Jamming the head of his thick cock against her unlubricated sphincter drew a muffled groan of protest from the redhead. Undeterred, the quarterback ruthlessly stretched Scarlett’s anus to painful proportions before starting up a punishing rhythm of thrusts.

The anal pounding was the last straw for Scarlett. She abandoned her passive scheme of letting the creatures tire themselves out with her body and renewed her efforts to break free. Blinking tears of pain and shame from her eyes, she used her discomfort to feed her rage. She managed to yank an arm free from one zombie’s grip and twisted it around to the front of the desk. Frantically tugging a drawer open, her hand disappeared inside looking for anything that she could use as a weapon. Her fingers closed around the handle of what she quickly identified as a switchblade – confiscated shortly before the life had been snuffed from the high school. Yanking the knife free and flipping the blade out, Scarlett went to work, slashing and stabbing her way to freedom.

It was hard for Scarlett to feel triumphant as she stood amongst the pile of dead corpses at her feet. The aches of her violated holes leaking steady flows of cum left her feeling exhausted and filthy, but aside from the desperate need for a very hot shower, a few painkillers, and a lifetime of therapy, she was unscathed. With the classroom cleared out, she turned her attention to the hallway beyond, finding it nearly as flood with the walking corpses as the room had been. With renewed resolve brought on by the horrors she’d endured, Scarlett trudged onwards with the blood-crusted switchblade.

Scarlett made far more progress than she had any right to with the little knife, long enough to find a fire axe mounted behind a plate of glass. Since her current situation more than met the qualifications required for breaking the glass, Scarlett didn’t hesitate to do so. She yanked the axe free and continued her undead killing spree. She knew the weight of the axe would tire her out faster than she liked, but its greater effectiveness meant that she wouldn’t have to keep fighting for nearly as long. Or so she hoped. The zombies crowding the halls gradually thinned out, but the aching in her arms was reaching a point that she wouldn’t be able to ignore.

Bringing the axe down into the bald skull of what had once been an assistant principal, Scarlett’s trembling fingers couldn’t maintain a grip on the weapon. As it fell away, lodged within the assistant principal’s cleaved head, she felt a momentary spark of panic as she realized she’d once again been disarmed. The panic faded fast, shifting into shocked relief as she saw that there were no more zombies between her and the murkily lit threshold leading out of the school. Exhausted but seemingly out of danger for the moment, she hurried towards the shattered glass doors. She spotted a pile of fresh bodies littering the ground just outside the school, their heads blown off, and felt her hope rising further. Someone else was alive in whatever hell hole she’d been teleported into. If she could find them, they could work together to figure out what had happened.

Scarlett made it a step and a half outside the school. Her ears didn’t even have a chance to process the loud boom of the Harkonnen as it sent a 30mm shell into the redhead’s face at supersonic speed. Scarlett’s head exploded, spraying scorched chunks of brain and flaps of red hair clinging to torn scalp in across the tops of her shoulders and through the air. The woman stumbled awkwardly forward another step, killed so fast that it took a few moments for the rest of her body to figure out what was going on. A gurgling spray of crimson erupted from the stump of her neck as she collapsed to her knees before flopping forward, just another body amidst the pile of corpses littering the ground.

“How many of these bloody things are there?” Seras Victoria grumbled to herself as she ejected the spent casing and fed a fresh shell into her trusty anti-tank cannon’s chamber.


Chapter Twenty-One: Seras Victoria

Satisfied with her kill count for the day, Seras Victoria got to her feet and lifted her anti-tank cannon, slinging it over her shoulders. She’d been stuck in the hellish city for nearly a week and had blasted or torn her way through more zombies than she could remember, as well as a number of other creatures. She’d refrained from feeding up until that point, not trusting whatever evil had tainted the undead humans, but with no escape in sight and her stomach rumbling to be satisfied, Seras figured beggars couldn’t be choosers. Given the variety of things she’d feasted on previously, she was confident that her vampiric constitution would be able to handle whatever disease had reanimated the corpses.

The six-story office building had made for an excellent sniper’s nest. Seras had been picking off the zombies wandering out of the nearby school for hours in an attempt to hold back her hunger. As she made her way into the building and down the stairs, the busty vampire’s thoughts turned to the last of the undead creatures she’d blown away. There was something off about the redheaded woman who’d come stumbling out of the school. She hadn’t looked like she’d belonged in the world either. Too bad she was a bloody dead head, Seras thought. I could have squeezed her for information before draining her.

Now that she’d decided to give up fasting, Seras was painfully aware of just how badly her stomach grumbled for sustenance. Kicking open a door leading out onto the streets, her eyes flashed crimson as they scanned the ruined roadway for food. She bared her fangs with a toothy grin as she quickly found a pack of zombies lumbering down the street. “’Ello, boys,” she hissed, voice tinged with a deep Cockney accent. “You been wantin’ a piece of me for a while now. Only fair I get to take a few pieces of you.” Letting the hefty weight of her cannon drop to the ground, Seras stretched her back, forcing her plump breasts to press against the front of her button-up shirt. “It’s fuckin’ feedin’ time, you bastards.”

Charging headlong into the pack of zombies, Seras stretched her jaw open wide and chomped into the closest one’s neck. The force of her bite tore through flesh and tendons with ease, nearly ripping the zombie’s head off. It sagged to the side, hanging on by loose skin as the vampiress gulped down the cold, foul-tasting blood. With a growl of delight, Seras shoved the body away and turned to a fresh one. Her clawed fingertips ripped through the next zombie’s gut before shooting upwards, splitting it open up the middle. Spurts of blood squirted from its torn flesh as she shoved her head between the two halves, lapping eagerly at the severed arteries.

Despite the foul taste, the partially clotted blood satiated Seras’ ravenous hunger while spurring it onwards. As she gave in to her bloodlust, she ripped away one undead man’s arm and dangled the stump over her face, crushing the limb from the wrist downwards to milk a gory shower of blood and mushy muscle into her open mouth. With a growl of delight, she flung the crushed arm aside and moved on to her next morsel, chewing through the former bank teller’s face with only two bites. The rest of the undead woman’s body barely managed to start falling before Seras snatched her up and shredded one of her bloated tits to crunch through her ribs and eat her heart out through her chest.

The high that came along with feeding rushed through Seras. She bit and slashed her way through the rest of the zombies in close proximity before racing further down the road to reach another shuffling pack. She leapt into the air and collided with one undead man, hooking her legs around his back and crunching her teeth through his forehead. She rode him as he collapsed backwards to the ground, absently grinding her aching crotch against his chest. Feeding always left her horny. The buffet of stale blood and rotten flesh she gorged herself on wasn’t the greatest of aphrodisiacs, but after refraining for so long, her body didn’t seem to care.

Seras’ blood-soggy clothes clung to the womanly curves of her body as she finished ripping through the second pack of zombies. Her nipples stood stiffly against the front of her uniform, a clear sign of her arousal. Unable to deny her lusts, the young vampire scurried to the side of the nearest building and dropped down against it. Panting and whimpering, her hands moved along her body, clutching at her breasts and rubbing across the crotch of her pants. Her tongue lolled from her mouth, dragging through the layer of gore covering her face and slurping it into her mouth. With no one but a few distant living corpses to spy on her, Seras felt more than comfortable satisfying herself.

Gripping either side of her top, Seras tore the shirt open. Buttons flew off as her pale breasts jiggled into view. She kneaded the flesh of one tit, writhing against the wall as she hastily unfastened her pants. Scooting the pants past the curve of her buttocks, Seras shoved her free hand down the front of her panties and cupped her damp snatch. Her red eyes rolled back, lips parting to let out a long, throaty moan as she jabbed a pair of digits into her folds. Her hips humped upwards against the prodding of her fingers, thumb stroking quickly across the swollen nub of her clitoris. She clenched her fangs, grunting with animalistic passion as she neared her first climax. A heavy gush of cunt honey flooded from her, soaking into her panties as she came. The sexual bliss felt nice, but it wasn’t nearly enough to chase back her urges.

Seras spotted the severed hand of one of her undead victims and grabbed it. Her damp fingers guided the lifeless hand between her pale thighs, feeling an added thrill as the cold flesh rubbed against her sensitive slit. She forced the dead man’s fingers into her cunt, slickened walls quivering around them as she used the hand as a very effective masturbatory aid. Hefting the weight of one breast, Seras arched her head forward and wrapped her lips around her soft pink nipple. Her cheeks dipped inwards as she sucked hard on the nub, hips jerking and shuddering as she fell into another orgasm. The frenzy of her bloodlust showed no signs of stopping and with no fear of the monsters lurking within the Necropolis, Seras had no reason not to enjoy herself.

A reason presented itself somewhere between Seras’ sixth and seventh climaxes. She didn’t immediately notice, attributing the odd pressure in her belly as being in a near constant state of being on the cusp of sexual release paired with a bit of a stomach ache from her gluttonous meal. When her eighth orgasm coursed through her, only to be interrupted by a sudden, violent vomiting, she realized that wasn’t the case. Yanking the zombie hand – thoroughly drenched in her fluids – away from her crotch, Seras clutched her hands to her gut and cried out as her bowels voided messily, spraying chunks of clotted blood and barely digested meat. She fell onto her side, screaming and writhing as her insides revolted against her.

Although Seras’ vampiric nature was capable of protecting her from the taint of the zombie blood to an extent, it could only handle so much. The vast quantities of corrupted blood and flesh she’d consumed overloaded her innate immunity and forced her body to try to handle the encroaching infection. Her unique physiology worked against her as her intestines absorbed the disease and became an entity entirely removed from Seras, filled with its own lust and hunger. Unfortunately for the young vampire, even though her guts no longer belonged to her, they were still very much attached to her. The smooth skin of her belly distended and shifted disturbingly as the lengths of tripe squirmed within her, fighting for a way out.

The twisting, shifting agony radiating through Seras felt unlike anything she’d experienced before. Being able to feel herself being attacked from within drove her to the brink of madness. It was that madness that inspired her to deal with the problem directly. She dug her clawed hands into her belly, slashing through her own flesh until she could reach inside and grab hold of the slithering lengths of sticky intestines rebelling against her. She yanked them free of her body by the fistful, flinging them as far away as she could. Seras grunted as the zombified guts – sensing freedom – tore themselves free from her stomach and bowels. The mass of innards pulled itself free from Seras’ eviscerated body, eager to begin its new life.

Seras released a gurgling scream of horror as her intestines swarmed over her. Even with her guts ripped out, her body was primed for fucking. As one slippery tip of the innards wiggled into her bloody snatch, she groaned deeply and instinctively ground up against the thrusts. Another length of intestine looped around one of her creamy thighs before pushing into her loosened asshole, shoving deeply enough that it emerged from her ripped open belly. Seras eagerly sucked at the ropey organ pressing against her lips, mind shattered by the certainty she would be dead soon. She shifted in a mindless daze as she was thoroughly fucked by her zombified guts, her body consumed by an intense blend of pleasure and agony.

Although ravaged by the zombie virus, Seras’ regenerative powers worked to the guts advantage. Grotesque fangs broke free from the circumference of the various lengths of innards, each one becoming a hungry mouth. Seras released a muffled howl as the one in her mouth clamped down around her tongue, shredding through the wiggling muscle and tearing it away. A pair of fanged lengths of intestine latched onto her nipples, chewing threw the fleshy nubs before burying themselves in the warm fat of her punctured tits. Whatever flickers of pleasure Seras was able to cling to were ended abruptly as ragged teeth skewered and forcibly removed her erect clitoris, leaving her a gurgling, writhing mess, kicking out blindly.

The pile of zombified intestines covered Seras body, sliding into her holes and through her partially hollowed innards. They fed themselves with the same ravenous hunger that Seras had shown during her own feeding frenzy. One intestine chewed an ear away before ramming itself through the small, bloody hole left behind. Seras’ eyes bulged as the intestine chomped through her brain. Bloody bubbles foamed from her trembling lips as her eyes crossed and blood squirted from her nostrils. By the time the length of intestine punched its way through the opposite side of Seras’ head, the young vampire was a lifeless husk gently twitching as what little remained of her body was quickly devoured.

The zombified guts finished their meal, leaving only a greasy smear of blood behind as the final sign that their former host had ever existed. They slithered off like a grotesque pack of snakes, occasionally parting to explore on their own before converging again into a greater mass. The Harkonnen remained abandoned outside of the office building, a grim reminder to any who found it that no matter how well armed a CosplayBabe was, she was not prepared for the horrors awaiting her in the Necropolis.


great job


Thanks! Next two chapters will be arriving early July-ish.


Chapter Twenty-Two: Jules Callaghan

The snap that had snuffed out over eight million people in the Necropolis had been devastating, but it had not killed everyone in the city. A scant few had gotten lucky – or incredibly unlucky – and survived the initial pulse of undeath inspiring energy. A young Lara Croft – freshly rescued from Yamatai Island – was amongst the initial survivors. She’d come to the city under the guise of rest and relaxation, but in truth, she’d come to further train herself for future adventures. She’d been learning how to fly a plane when everything had gone so dreadfully wrong. Her instructor had suddenly slumped over in his seat, tilting the plane towards the bay below. Controlling her panic, Lara had managed to get the plane back under control just in time for the instructor to return to life. Fighting off the man’s advances while trying to keep the plane in the air proved more difficult than she could handle. The crash was a bad one, leaving the undead instructor half splattered across the windshield and Lara banged up but still capable of limping away from the wreckage.

Outside the plane, things looked even worse. Chaos reigned as shuffling packs of the living dead roamed freely. She spotted one other survivor, a screaming man rushing down the street. The grisly sight of him getting tackled to the ground and violently raped as the zombies tore him apart still haunted Lara’s dreams. It didn’t take the zombies long before they started towards her. With no weapons and a throbbing pain radiating up from her badly bruised knee, Lara didn’t see too much hope laid out before her, but she refused to give up. Perhaps it was the same luck that allowed her to live through the initial death snap that allowed her to find Jules Callaghan. The woman seemed just as disturbed by the events transpiring throughout the city as Lara, but she’d at least come strapped with a full compliment of S.W.A.T. gear.

Liking their chances for survival together as opposed to splitting up, Lara and Jules teamed up. As they fought their way through the unending hordes of the undead, Lara learned that Jules hadn’t been a resident of the city. She’d been somewhere else, with the rest of her team, when she’d been suddenly blinked away. Lara had no answers, but she filed that information away for later investigation. Jules didn’t have an unlimited supply of ammunition for her rifle – or the sidearm she’d given to Lara – but they had enough to fight their way to a gun store. After arming up, they went shopping for supplies. Jules shared S.W.A.T. tactics with Lara to clear rooms and move with stealth and safety and Lara soaked up the training eagerly. She repaid Jules’ training by telling her about the private penthouse she’d rented in the city. It had come complete with a panic room. A perfect place to hold up while they got their bearings and figured out what the hell was going on.

The pair spent a good deal of time in the panic room, only heading out when absolutely necessary. The penthouse floor was secured, only accessible via elevator shaft, but the thick steel walls provided an added layer of defense that they both appreciated greatly when sleep claimed them. A friendship blossomed between them. Then, after a particularly rough night that led to Jules breaking down from the horrors they’d gone through, it became something more. Lara had hugged the woman to comfort her. She’d kissed her cheek for the same reason, but Jules had wanted more. A distraction from the hell. Lara was more than happy to provide it, needing a distraction herself. The sex had been fueled with the passion of certain death lurking around every corner and had left them both satisfied and certain they’d be doing it again very soon.

And that was how they lived for months. Jules had rigged up a radio, mostly to listen to CD’s when the sounds from outside got too bad. They’d made attempts to head out and find the source of the occasional screams or gunshots they heard, but they never managed to get there in time. Now they tried to ignore the sounds, silently hoping whoever was out there would get lucky and survive like they had. During the night, when sleep was difficult to find, Jules flicked the radio over to white noise. One night, on the verge of sleep and tangled up with Jules’ naked flesh pressed close to her, Lara thought she heard a voice coming from the radio. It was enough to wake her up. She slid out from beside Jules and sat up, staring at the radio. A few moments later, she heard the voice again. Waking her partner-turned-lover, the two of them gathered around the radio, cranking the volume. The signal was weak and distorted, but the message was clear enough.

There were other survivors. If the message was to be believed, there were a lot of them. They had a bunker; a safe zone from the Legions of the Undead. And they were offering safety to anyone who could hear the message. Lara and Jules briefly discussed the possibility of a trap before deciding to risk looking for the bunker. Stagnating in a panic room until death inevitably claimed them didn’t sit well with either of the action-oriented women. If they could team up with a larger group of survivors, they could at least try to fight back against the monstrosities infesting the city – if not find out what had happened. Gearing up, they left the panic room and made their way down to the street. They knew nothing of how the Necropolis had changed in the months since they’d taken to hiding. The fresh hells that had appeared within the dead city. It was a terrible surprise that would be sprung upon them very soon.

Knowing only the rendezvous point for the bunker, Lara and Jules chose as direct a path as they could. If they’d been able to catch the entire message from the other survivors, they’d have known just what a terrible idea that was. Instead, their stealthy movements left the undead unawares of their presence, but led them directly into the path of some of the nastier creatures that had infested the city. It was Jules that was introduced to the new horrors first, absently stepping into a pile of gooey, pale white sludge that looked like partially dissolved cotton. When she tried to lift her foot, she found the task impossible. Her unease rose as she crouched, reaching for her knife to cut herself free.

Jules never had a chance to draw her blade. The practically invisible thread connecting the sludge pile she’d stepped into to the open vent on the side of the building snapped tense. The young woman let out a startled shriek as her body was yanked out from under her. She called for Lara, arms stretching towards her friend as her body banged roughly across the hard ground. Her eyes bulged, screaming louder as she was dragged up the side of the building. Her bulletproof vest kept the rough cement from scrapping her breasts off, but the bashing against the wall left her bruised. She caught one final glimpse of Lara’s shocked and horrified face as her feet slid into the open vent. Jules stretched her arms out, catching the sides of the vent and managed to hold on for an impressive four seconds before she was plucked into the darkness.

Jules’ free leg kicked out at the vent surrounding her, trying to find enough leverage to brace herself. Her kicks were strong enough to leave dents in the metal, but did nothing to slow her journey through the vents. Panic threatened to override her S.W.A.T. training. She’d seen the horrors of the zombies, but she’d never seen them use traps before. Either they’d gotten a hell of a lot smarter since she’d last encountered the things, or she wasn’t dealing with zombies. Both prospects terrified her. She winced as her shoulder banged against the edge of a corner of the vent, very nearly dislocating it. Her stomach lurched as gravity shifted and she found herself sliding downwards.

There was a brief moment of freefalling as Jules was pulled from the vent, but the strand of web tugged harder to remove any slack in the line. The young woman’s body hit the ground hard. She managed to keep from bashing her head open or crippling any of her limbs, but the pain of the rough stop radiated through her. She blinked the dust and tears from her eyes to take in her new surroundings. The area was dark and warm. Red light glowed from above, providing her the sight of a few hulking silhouettes around her. She suppressed the startled panic in time to avoid embarrassing herself by getting freaked out by a handful of industrial boilers.

Not wasting time drawing her knife, Jules quickly unlaced her boot and slid her foot free. She made it to her feet and reached down to draw her sidearm. Whatever had abducted her wouldn’t be getting her without a fight. At least, that had been Jules’ intention. She’d barely gotten the pistol free of its holster before another shot of webbing wisped through the air and clung to its barrel. Jules let out a frustrated yell as the gun was yanked from her hand. It clattered away into the darkness, never to be seen again. Jules squinted her eyes into the darkness to try to get a glimpse of what her attacker was, but she only spotted a brief fluttering of movement behind one of the boilers.

The next shot of webbing came at her from behind and splatted wetly against the seat of her pants. Jules let out a shocked gasped as the webbing retracted and easily tore away the majority of the fabric covering her ass. She turned, only to have a third line of webbing hit her vest. The Kevlar gave way just as easily as the fabric. The tattered vest barely left her body before a fourth webbing line struck her in the chest and tore away her shirt. Jules managed to bring an arm up to block the next line from connecting with her bra. The webbing clung to her skin, leaving behind a terrible itchiness. Before she could contemplate allergic reactions or poison, the webbing pulled back, stripping a healthy chunk of her skin away. Jules shrieked, staring in wide-eyed horror at the glistening muscle tissue left behind as hot blood coursed across her forearm.

With the pain of her minimal defleshing burning through her arm, Jules hardly noticed as the shots of webbing finished stripping her. The click of hard feet against cement flooring echoed around her. She finally spotted one of her attackers through tear-filled eyes. Her irrational fear of spiders didn’t seem nearly as irrational now. The thing resembled a black widow in shape, with long, pointed feet that carried its bottom-heavy body nimbly across the floor. But its size was something more commonly associated with the largest of tarantulas. Their bodies were easily the size of a fist – a large fist. Jules had no idea what had spawned such hellish creations and she never would. She’d never see the emaciated corpse of Peter Parker suspended above, the front of his mask chewed open from within to reveal the gory pit of his mouth. The crotch of his suit was similarly ruined, flaccid cock hanging limply under his widely stretched legs, only partially concealing the bored out hole of his ass. The Flesh Weaver brood mother had enjoyed his body immensely before leaving her unborn offspring stuffed into his esophagus and stomach and crawling off to expire.

Jules knew none of this. She only saw the relatively freshly hatched Flesh Weavers crawling ever closer towards her. Without her weapons, she tried a more direct approach. Stepping towards the closet of the arachnids, she lifted a foot and made an attempt to stomp the hellish creature into a gooey death. The Flesh Weaver reacted quickly and calmly, spraying the underside of Jules’ foot with a good dose of its incredibly adhesive webbing and drawing it back. Jules howled out in agony as the skin from the bottom of her foot peeled away just as easily as the patch from her arm. Her balance shifted unsteadily as she hopped on her undamaged foot. She collapsed backwards, pathetic whimpers dribbling from her lips as her partially deskinned foot twitched in agony.

Jules was no longer a threat, but as far as the Flesh Weavers were concerned, she’d never been one. They crawled closer towards her, eight of them in total. She attempted to swipe a hand out to beat them back and lost the skin from her fingers and knuckles as a result. She twisted and screamed, cradling herself as the arachnids took their time torturing her. Strips of flesh were torn from her back. One managed to snag the underside of her left breast, ripping the skin away and letting the warm yellow fat within the mound ooze from the wound. Jules tried to crawl away, but the sharp pain only grew worse as the sound of her ripping flesh pounded in her ears. One cheek was ripped away, exposing bloodied teeth beneath. She didn’t make it far before collapsing into a sobbing, shrieking heap, blood pouring from the various fleshless portions of her body.

After torturing Jules into submission, the Flesh Weavers crawled closer, climbing over her shuddering form. They layered her remaining skin in their sticky webbing, wrapping her tightly. Her screams became muffled under the layers of off-white adhesive silk. Jules knew all too well there was only way the webbing was leaving her body. All of her training melted away in the wake of the nightmare her life had become. No training could have prepared her for the horrors of the Necropolis or the brutality of the things lurking within the dead city. She thought of Lara, knowing the woman would attempt to find her. She hoped Lara’s search would lead her away from the hellish pit of the boiler room. Jules saw no hope for herself, but if Lara could live, could make it to the bunker, that would at least make her death a little less meaningless.

Leaving one seam of the webbing exposed, half the Flesh Weavers pinned the sticky substance to the floor. The others crawled over Jules’ lightly squirming form. They pushed and pulled her body, their surprising strength working to unwrap the unfortunate young woman from her bundled state. Her muffled screams rose in volume as the unrolling webbing pulled her skin away, leaving its gory interior glistening on top of the silky bed. With the exception of a few small patches that the adhesive had failed to cling to, every inch of Jules’ skin was slowly, painfully removed from her body by the time her fleshless husk rolled free of the webbing sack.

Her once pretty face – now clinging to the portion of webbing that had been layered across it – was now a visage of bloody, skinless horror. Her exposed muscle and nerve ending screamed out an endless stream of pain as she screamed out a vocal representation of that pain. The finely toned muscle of her abs weren’t enough to hold back the internal pressure of her coiled intestines, giving way and releasing the steaming viscera onto the floor. She went back to crawling, in too much agony to think of any other plans, and left a greasy smear of blood in her wake. The Flesh Weavers took little notice of her futile attempt at escape as they carefully worked her skin away from their webbing. The woman’s skinsuit – although damaged – was necessary for the Flesh Weaver’s next stage of life.

While the arachnids concerned themselves with the next stage of their life, Jules suffered through her final stage. The pain got to bad to keep moving and she collapsed into a heap only a few feet away from the unraveled webbing sack that had stolen so much of her skin. Her wide eyes, unable to blink with her eyelids torn away, swayed unsteadily as shock tugged her towards the darkness of death. The glistening flesh of her forehead, off-white bone showing in several places, dropped to the floor as a final shuddering breath passed her lips. When the Flesh Weavers finished pulling her skinsuit away from the webbing, they left the macabre remains draped over one of the boilers before converging over Jules Callaghan’s fleshless corpse, tearing into it and satiating their burning hunger.


Chapter Twenty-Three: Lara Croft (Reboot)

It had taken roughly ten seconds for Jules to be plucked from her feet and dragged up the wall and into the vent. It had happened so fast that Lara had no chance to save her friend, but that didn’t stop the guilt from surging through her as the memory of Jules’ horrified face disappearing into the vent flashed through her mind. She’s not dead, Lara told herself. I can still save her. Clinging to that irrational hope, Lara looked for some means up to the vent and quickly discovered there was none. She shifted her focus to trying to find a way into the building. That would at least be a start.

Lara darted down to the other end of the alleyway, trying to tug open every door that led into the building Jules had been dragged into. She found each of the doors firmly locked. The windows were similarly inaccessible, both covered in bars and planks of wood. Her concern for Jules overrode all of the training her friend had given her and all the experience she’d had on Yamatai Island, blundering through the stacks of rubbish littering the alleyway. She dodged around a particular large stack of garbage, knocking a chunk of it away in her haste to find entry into the building.

Lara didn’t notice the extra shifting from the rubbish pile as she moved on, continuing to search for a way into the building. The garbage fell away, revealing the glistening, matted fur of a Hell Hound. The Hound was significantly larger than the ones responsible for Ivy Valentine’s death, nearly the size of a full grown horse. The beast shook its back, flinging aside the chunks of trash still clinging to him as he stretched his massive maw into a yawn. His glowing eyes shifted to focus on the attractive woman who’d unintentionally disturbed his sleep. Fresh slobber dribbled from the Alpha Hell Hound’s maw as his annoyance shifted towards lust.

The low growl of the massive beast broke Lara’s attention away from the building. She turned back to see the hulking predator staring her down and realized what a terrible mistake she’d made. The weight of the twin handguns she’d looted from a mostly devoured corpse during one of her salvage runs with Jules did little to comfort her. Compared to the intimidating Hell Hound before her, she doubted they would do much more than piss the thing off. With fighting looking like a terrible option, Lara chose an equally terrible option. She turned and ran, muscular legs pumping hard to put as much distance between herself and the creature as she could, hoping to find some means of escape before it inevitably caught up to her.

The Alpha let out a loud bark and gave chase. His massive paws thudded across the ground, knocking aside rubbish as his eyes fixed on Lara’s retreating backside. Her perky buttocks filled out the seat of her brown jeans nicely, only helping to stir the beast’s lust. The pleasant sight vanished momentarily as Lara rounded the corner at the end of the alleyway and darted out onto the main road. The Alpha picked up speed, shrugging aside the grogginess of his nap. The scent of the woman lingered, allowing him to track her with ease. His feet skidded on the asphalt slightly as he followed Lara around the corner, catching a brief glimpse of her terrified face as she chanced a glance back in his direction.

Lara released a rising whine of urgency, forcing her legs to pump harder as she heard the thudding of the Alpha’s footfalls drawing closer. The street provided little in the way of defenses or escape routes. There was a burned out wreck of an SUV smashed into the side of a bank, but even darting inside would not keep her safe. She couldn’t risk taking the time to check the various doors and entryways on the chance that they were locked. Her limited options vanished in an instant as the hulking weight of the Alpha crashed into her from behind. Lara cried out as she was thrown forward, knees skidding roughly across the pavement before she dropped onto her hands and knees.

The horse-sized hound panted heavily as he looked over his prey. That perky posterior filled his vision again and with it so close, he didn’t hesitate to lower his head and close his fangs around the fabric. Lara shrieked as the seat of her pants was viciously torn away. Flinging the tattered flap of fabric aside, the Alpha went back, sniffing deeply at the young tomb raider’s panties. An acrid stench filled his nostrils as the crotch of her soft panties dampened with her urine. The humiliation Lara felt from the unintentional urination was minimal compared to the terror pounding in her chest. The horrors she’d faced on the island had been devastating, but they didn’t come close to comparing to the perverted terror that had consumed the Necropolis. She shrieked as the beast tore through her panties, leaving her ass bare.

Lara turned her head, looking back at the thing that would certainly kill her. Her face constricted with revulsion as her eyes locked onto the throbbing length of cock emerging from the sheath beneath the Alpha’s belly. If the beast’s general size resembled a horse, his cock was even larger than any of the equestrian members Lara had seen before. Thicker and longer, with a tapered tip instead of a blunt head. She reached a hand back to the twin guns she had holstered to her sides. She wasn’t sure what her intention was, whether she was going to try to shoot the Alpha to death or ram the barrel against her own head to put a swift end to her suffering. She never got a chance to find out. Her numb fingers fumbled the first weapon, letting it clatter to the ground. By then, the Alpha was surging towards her.

The beast’s big paws rose into the air and came crashing down on Lara’s shoulders. The young woman cried out as the upper half of her body was forced to the road, leaving her upraised ass in the air. She squirmed and struggled, but the Alpha had her pinned securely. She strained her fingers, trying to reach for the guns. Given the fate of their last owner – she still shuddered whenever she thought of the unrecognizable remains – she had to wonder if the weapons were cursed. There’d been a time when Lara hadn’t believed in curses, but that time had passed sometime after washing up on the shores of Yamatai Island. On second thought, she wondered if perhaps it was her that was cursed, given her apparent inability to avoid winding up in terrible situations.

Lara’s panic worsened as the sticky tip of the Alpha’s cock slid between the cheeks of her ass and touched against her tiny sphincter. Her chest heaved, sweat pouring out of her and soaking through the fabric. Her nipples stood out distinctly against the front of her shirt, stirred to stiffness by her fear. She clenched her teeth and fought harder to get out from under the beast, feeling as he pressed harder against her asshole. The tapered tip worked against her, allowing the Alpha to find purchase and wedge himself into her rear. Lara grunted as the beast bucked forward and buried his cockhead into her tight ass. Her boots kicked against the pavement, scuffing the toes as the dull pain of the penetration radiated through her.

The pain worsened fast as the Alpha hammered his hips forward, skewering several more thick inches into Lara’s rectum. The young woman howled out in agony, feeling the muscle strained to its very limits. Her shriek rose to a higher octave as the ring of her asshole snapped and tore, hot blood drippling from it to help lubricate the Hell Hound’s massive member. The pleasure of the woman’s clenching hole only encouraged the Alpha to hump into her harder, each thrust forcing another thick inch of cock-meat into her from behind. Lara screamed and screamed again, tears of agony gushing down her cheeks.

Lara’s toned abs bulged outwards obscenely as the Alpha’s cockhead drove through her guts. The bottom of her shirt rode up as the fucking intensified, exposing the grotesque bulge. Lara’s cheeks ballooned outwards before a stream of vomit – her final meal of protein bars before she and Jules had left the safety of her panic room – sprayed from her lips. The Alpha moved his paws away from Lara’s shoulders, allowing her upper half to lift upwards slightly. The bulge lost a bit of definition, no longer on the verge of ripping through her belly, and her hard nipples were left to rub against the asphalt as the Alpha fucked his way deeper through her flailing form.

The final dribbles of vomit that passed Lara’s lips became tinged crimson as the internal damage within her worsened. The Alpha’s cock skewered through her devastated asshole and into her body, tearing or pulping anything that got in its way. A pressure built in her chest as the thick rod of flesh partially crushed her lungs and forced her frantically beating heart to the side. Her wheezing breaths cut off as the tapered tip entered the back of her throat. Lara’s eyes bulged as she choked on the thing’s member from within, the front of her throat expanding outwards as it plugged her esophagus. Fresh spurts of blood, puke, and pre-cum poured from her gaping mouth and ran in sticky lines from her chin. Fresh tears of pain sparkled in her terrified eyes as her jaw broke with a hideous crunch.

Lara flailed about helplessly as her eyes crossed to watch the Alpha’s gory cockhead emerge from her mouth. Her body was lifted from the road, legs dangling beneath her and kicking out at the beast’s hind legs while her arms stretched upwards to tug at its matted fur. The Alpha pivoted his hips, dragging his cock back and forth through Lara’s spitted body. The warmth of her squishy innards and the jagged prods of her bones helped to stimulate the beast, encouraging to fuck the doomed woman harder. Blood dribbled from Lara’s nostrils as her eyes bulged, face reddening as her ability to breathe was kept from her. Asphyxiation and internal trauma raced one another to see which would prove ultimately fatal for Lara.

Before the race could be decided, the Alpha reached his climax. Ramming his battering ram of a cock fully through Lara’s squirming body, he let out a howl as he came. A geyser of creamy spunk sprayed from the tip of his cock, streaking out across the road in front of Lara. Each blast of cum caused the Alpha’s cock to jerk. The spastic pulses caused even more damage to Lara’s internal organs, crushing them within her. Her belly turned a dark shade of reddish black as blood pooled within her. Her shirt had ridden up far enough on one side to expose on pert young breast, nipple tightened into a rigid little brown point.

As the flow of cum slowed, Lara’s body shuddered fatally on the Alpha’s prick. Her eyes rolled back, wet gurgles crackling deep in her plugged throat. Her final thoughts were of Jules, hoping the woman had found a way out of whatever terrible death trap she’d been yanked into. She regretted ever having woken her friend to listen to the message on the radio. They’d been safe in the panic room. The hope of finding other survivors had been a stupid one. It had probably been some devious scheme by the horrors lurking in the Necropolis. Whether it was or not, Lara would never know. With a final seizure of wild muscle spasms, she slumped dead on the Alpha’s rigid member.

The Alpha noticed Lara’s demise, but didn’t give it any concern. The woman’s body stretching around his cock still felt nice and his hunger hadn’t stirred enough to pry her off yet. Enjoying the residual death twitches running through Lara’s corpse, the Alpha trotted back towards the alleyway he liked to sleep in. Lara’s arms and legs dangled beneath her, dragging across the road as her dead eyes stared out from her position beneath the monster. The pistols that seemed to find their way into the hands of a woman named Croft were separated, one left lying in the road while the other remained snugly tucked away into its holster.


More like lara croft!!!


There were some very fun snuffs in this, thank you.


Seems likely that Alpha Hell Hound'll want someone new to play with at some point.

Thanks! I've got some hopefully just as fun things already brewing for next month's chapters.


Chapter Twenty-Four: Sailor Jupiter

Dr. Bathory Mengele’s eyes scanned over the young woman strapped to the gurney. Makoto Kino was a relatively new recruit to the group of survivors doing their best to hold back the Legions of the Undead. Her assertions that she was something known as a Sailor Scout – Sailor Jupiter, to be specific – and that she could conjure the very powers of the cosmos to become a valiant fighter had proven false. The confusion Makoto had expressed had seemed genuine, but it was impossible to know whether the girl had simply been making up the story or if she was delusional. It was hardly Makoto’s fault that she’d been teleported into a universe so far removed from her own that it not only didn’t possess the same cosmic forces she relied upon, but it didn’t even have a planet known as Jupiter within its solar system.

The survivors weren’t evil, but they were desperate. Bathory had seen that the moment she’d made her way to the underground bunker. Desperate enough that she’d easily convinced them of her qualifications of not only a medical professional, but as a scientist capable of working out the workings of the monstrosities they faced. All she needed was some space – they’d gladly given her a sizable room to convert into a laboratory – and the occasional subject. That had taken more time, convincing the group of leaders to agree to sacrifice fellow survivors to her experiments, but eventually Bathory managed to do it. At first, she’d only been allowed those that were dead or dying, but now she’d been able to secure livelier specimens, provided she could make a convincing enough argument that said specimen would be more of a drain on resources than they were worth. In the case of young, powerless Makoto Kino, it had been easy.

If the leaders had known Bathory’s true reason for wanting Makoto, they might not have so readily agreed to give the girl to her. She’d smelled it on Makoto the moment she laid eyes on her. The girl was a virgin. And it had been so very long since she’d properly bathed. Drugging her food, Bathory had waited for Makoto to fall asleep before collecting her from the cramped bunk she’d been given to live in and brought her to the lab. Stripping the young woman, Bathory had resisted her carnal urges and strapped Makoto to the gurney. Needles punctured her flawless skin, attached to hoses that ran into a pump she’d rigged up. She’d punctured every artery Makoto had, wanting to drain her as quickly as possible.

Just as nude as her captive, Bathory flicked the pump on and hurried over to the shower. She kept her eyes fixed on Makoto. She’d arranged the gurney to allow her a clear view of the young woman as her blood was siphoned away. The old pump kicked on, rumbling loudly. Bathory’s eyes lit up with hungry lust as she spotted the first glimpse of crimson rising steadily up the hoses. Her skin burned with the need to feel the warm, thick fluid flowing over her. She purred with anticipation, running her hands over her full breasts and reaching down to cup her crotch. Her thumb curled through her patch of blonde pubic hair while her fingers rested against the dampening slit of her cunt.

Roughly ten seconds after the pump started, the first drizzle of blood emerged from the shower head. Bathory let out an orgasmic squeal as the hot crimson rained over her upturned face. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue, letting some of the thick drops splatter across it. She arched her back, presenting her plump bosom to the spray as it grew heavier. Red ran across her smooth skin and through her deep cleavage. She smeared it over her flesh, nipples stiffening without the need of digital stimulation. Her thighs trembled as her pussy ached with yearning. Bathory panted heavily, lightly grinding her hips back and forth as she experienced the blissful ecstasy of her unorthodox bathing habits. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the pure energy of Makoto’s blood filling her up with the girl’s youth, ensuring her seductive beauty.

The drugs in Makoto’s system wore off at precisely the best or worst time, depending on who you asked. The girl’s eyes fluttered open, already feeling the weakness of her rapidly draining blood. Her flash had paled significantly. Releasing a frightened, confused whimper into the gag Bathory had stuffed into her mouth, Makoto tried to pull her hands free from the straps holding her against the gurney. Her eyes widened with horror as she fixed on the multitude of hoses rising from her body, each one filled with her precious lifeblood. She lifted her head to look at her naked form, moaning with rising terror as she spotted the nude Nazi scientist showering before her. She tried to beg, to question what was happening, why it was happening, but the gag kept her words of protest and inquiry muffled and unintelligible.

Bathory moaned louder as Makoto struggled. Her eyes stared between the young woman’s thin legs, directly into her lightly furred snatch while she pumped two fingers into her own aching cunt. She could see Makoto’s perky breasts sway and jiggle as she shifted back and forth on the gurney, trying to work the straps loose enough to squirm free. Bathory’s thumb wiggled against her stiff clitoris, humping into her hand as her moans rose in volume and urgency. She shook her head, blonde hair stained red from the rain of blood and stretched her jaw open wide to gulp down a healthy quantity of the iron-rich fluid. Her large, blood-soaked tits slapped together, sticky with Makoto’s essence.

Makoto had been so glad to find the group of survivors after her unexpected transportation to the hellish city. She’d lamented the loss of her ability to transform into Sailor Jupiter, but she’d been determined to find some way of making herself useful to the group. She was strong enough to be a capable fighter and she was a pretty good cook. Unfortunately, she’d never gotten a chance to share those abilities with the other survivors before Bathory had moved in to claim her. She slumped on the gurney, struggling for each breath as her skin became an icy blue. Shivers ran through her, freezing from the lack of blood left in her body. Tears crept down her cheeks as darkness swam into her vision. As her life faded, she heard the terrible woman showering in her blood cry out with orgasmic release. She was gone before Bathory’s cunt finished squirting its juices down her trembling thighs.

Bathory sucked the blend of her cunt honey and Makoto’s blood from her fingers. She moaned at the taste soaking into her tongue. The flow from the shower head came to a drizzling stop. With no blood left to suck out of the young woman, the pump clicked off. Bathory was thoroughly drenched in red. It dripped in long lines from the bottoms of her breasts and flowed across her slim abdomen. Her blonde tuft of pubes was stained crimson, as was her hair. She reached back and slapped her palms against her perky buttocks, gripping the bloody flesh and giving it a thorough squeeze as she enjoyed the residual tingles of ecstasy running through her. Bath time was over, but she wasn’t finished with her specimen yet.

Returning to the gurney, Bathory tugged the straps holding Makoto down loose. She panted heavily, still riding the high of her blood bath as she felt across the young corpse’s flesh. She squeezed Makoto’s breasts and felt along the folds of her pussy. Tilting Makoto’s head towards her, she stared into the girl’s half-lidded, vacant eyes before leaning down to kiss her slightly parted lips. Bathory moaned into Makoto’s dead mouth, swirling her tongue against the limp slab of muscle hiding within as she teasingly prodded the young woman’s cunt. Her lust very nearly overwhelmed her again, but she gathered her senses and turned her mind towards slightly more scientific pursuits.

Scooping Makoto’s body from the gurney, Bathory slung the girl over her shoulder and carried her over to a set of doors mounted in the floor near the rear of her lab. Whatever the room had been previously designed for, she didn’t know, but one look at the vacant pit with the sealable hatchway above it was enough for Bathory to settle on the area for the perfect spot for her various experiments. Triggering the hatchway, the doors rumbled apart, revealing the pit below. It was twelve feet deep; the walls smooth cement that made it impossible for anyone within to climb free. There was an extendable ladder against one of the side walls, but Bathory rarely extended it. The contents of the pit were too precious – and too dangerous – to risk letting loose within the bunker. She dumped Makoto’s body into the pit without ceremony, watching her ragdoll form hit the bottom with a meaty thud.

Pressing another button on the control switch for the doors sounded a soft tone. She’d dubbed it the ‘dinner bell’, although it was always a toss-up as to whether or not her pets would be hungry. A thin smile spread across her face as the group of undead she’d collected emerged from the narrow set of tunnels attached to the pit. There were more men than women in the pit, each of them stripped of whatever they’d been wearing before their undeath. Convincing the leadership to allow her to keep them had been more difficult than convincing them to let her experiment on other survivors, but she’d argued that in order to find a means of destroying the nightmares hounding them, she had to be able to observe them in a controlled environment.

There were only eight zombies in the pit. Bathory had decided to keep no more than twelve at a time. Based on her observances, they weren’t prone to squabbling much, but they did frequently fuck one another. Gender didn’t seem to be a factor in their mating preferences, although they did seem particularly attracted to the female figure. But with only two girls out of the eight, she’d witnessed the males satisfying their urges with one another on more than one occasion. She’d also seen the women grinding against anything hard enough to provide stimulation. Although that behavior was more uncommon for the males, she had watched the undead carcass of Leon Kennedy spiritedly hump against the side of one of the pit walls for twenty minutes before spraying his greasy load over the cement.

Bathory had dumped several bodies into the pit before Makoto. Some of them had been devoured completely, but others had been used in a more carnal way before being consumed. Only two – Melissa Marr and Dan Cain – had survived their postmortem gangbang long enough to allow whatever disease brought the dead back to life to assert itself. Judging by the stiffness sprouting from the males’ crotches, it was no surprise as one of them pulled Makoto’s legs apart and dropped over her. The zombified Leon groaned as he pushed into the young woman’s tight virgin cunt, skewering her hymen and stealing her purity. Melissa whimpered as she dropped over Makoto’s head, grinding her naked snatch across her face.

Bathory’s lust rose as she watched the gangbang unfold. The zombie gang pulled and twisted Makoto’s lifeless form into a variety of positions, violating every hole she had. Rita Bennett – the other female in the group – eagerly lapped at the cum draining from Makoto’s stretched asshole while Steve Christy pumped his prick into the young woman’s slack mouth. Dan lay beneath Makoto, thrusting roughly into her cum-slickened snatch while slurping at her dangling breasts. Bathory watched and teased her stiff nipples, the blood covering her drying into crusty flakes. The two female zombies were soon shoved aside and left to play with one another while the six males gathered around Makoto’s sprawled figure, jerking their pricks with spastic movements.

Makoto’s glazed eyes slowly blinked as she released a gurgling growl. Ropey streaks of cum flew across her cold, dead flesh, layering her in even more of the seed as she returned to life. She writhed in the pool of spunk that had gathered around her, milky eyes shifting from one rigid erection to the next with corrupted desire. Rolling onto her side, she slid to the nearest cock, wrapping her lips around it and slurping hungrily. Her tongue slithered around the rim of the crown, gathering up whatever lingering remnants of spunk remained there. She released a muffled groan as another of the men pulled her hips towards him and stabbed his erect prick into her cunt.

“Welcome to the party, Number Nine,” Bathory purred as she watched the undead orgy continue. Makoto seemed to be fitting in nicely with her new life and the Butcheress was certain that the girl would provide far more value as an undead test subject than she ever had in life. As she watched Makoto violated again and again, fingering her wet slit, she took no notice of the way Melissa and Rita stared up at her from the pit, their dead eyes searching for a means of escape so that they could satiate themselves with her flesh. Bathory had made the fatal mistake of thinking the undead creatures were incapable of thought, beyond base urges, and with the distraction of Makoto’s introductory gangbang displayed before her, she went on in her ignorance.


Chapter Twenty-Five: Black Widow

The rancid stench coming from the air vents was nauseating, but the reduced airflow throughout the underground bunker was far more worrisome. If the air shut down completely, the survivors would face suffocation or the horrors waiting for them in the Necropolis. Either outcome meant certain death. The leadership had tasked Black Widow with the mission of going into the vents, finding the problem, and fixing it. She may not have been the most skilled engineer they had, but she was more than capable of getting into and out of tight spots and was one of the more skilled combatants they had available. Of course, it’s a lot easier to fight if I can actually stand up, Natasha thought as she crawled her way through the air ducts. The stench was even stronger within the vents, smelling like decay and feces.

The hope was that a large rodent or some other pest had wandered into one of the fans. If one of the undead creatures up above had managed to get in, things would be far worse. The survivors who’d stumbled onto the bunker had found it utterly abandoned, with no signs of the corruption that had claimed the rest of the city above. Whoever had built it had prepared for a global catastrophe, stocking it with more than enough foodstuffs and clean water to last decades. It was completely sealed off from the rest of the world, with the exception of the air ducts. They’d been mapped out fairly thoroughly and the intake pipes they’d managed to find all seemed too small for anything truly awful to get in. But based on the scouting reports they kept getting, the Necropolis was continuously coming up with new monstrosities to throw at them. It seemed like only a matter of time before something was able to squeeze through or beat down the thick steel doors keeping them safe.

Natasha hoped that today wouldn’t be that day, but as she tracked the source of the stench, her gut rumbled with unease. The fan in front of her was clogged and stuck with a messy splatter of tangled bits of viscera. The intestines were too large to be from a rat and it was too far from the surface to imagine a zombie chucking its own innards into the intake port. There was no body to go with the guts and no real sign of where their owner might have crawled off to. Their presence was a mystery, one Natasha knew she would have to solve before she could exit the ducts. But first, she needed to clear the blockage.

Being no strange to getting her hands messy didn’t make the process of picking and peeling the tangled lengths of viscera from the fan blades any easier. She cringed and breathed through her mouth, holding back the bile rising up her gullet as she started to make a pile of tattered organ tissue in front of her. When the fan very nearly pulled itself free from the guts she quickly thumbed the button to switch it into maintenance mode. Natasha silently cursed herself for the mistake, suddenly realizing just how unnerved her trek through the ducts had made her. She pulled the guts away faster, wanting to get the fan cleared as quickly as possible. Once it was back up to speed, she could turn around and not have to worry about something creeping up behind her without making a fair amount of noise.

Natasha may have had her fill of viscera, but viscera did not yet have its fill of her. The zombified innards of Seras Victoria had gone through a lot to gain entrance to the underground bunker. Although it lacked any visual organs, it still possessed the innate vampiric ability to sense blood and the hive of survivors had glowed brightly within its consciousness. It hadn’t been able to see the fan nearly as clearly, resulting in a very painful journey through the device. Managing to make it through the fan, it found itself lost within the maze of air ducts until targeting on the vibrant image of Black Widow crawling into the vents. Now her form was blindingly bright, the coiled mess of sloppy innards admiring the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent’s perky posterior as its hunger for meat and blood spiked.

Seras’ guts launched forward, reaching Natasha far faster than the woman had any hope to save herself even if she had seen the attack coming. Greasy tendrils of viscera looped around her ankles and shins, yanking her legs out from under her. Natasha gasped, twisting around as far as she could within the vent. She drew her sidearm and fired into the fleshy mass crawling its way over her. The thunderous blasts left her ears ringing and the bullets seemed to do nothing as they punched through the slippery mess of internal organs. She cringed as the thing ripped open the crotch of her black bodysuit, fear rising within her as she realized how utterly trapped she was.

Natasha screamed as a toothy end of intestine shoved between the cheeks of her ass and burrowed into her asshole. The hungry mouth chewed her ring of muscle away, creating a gaping, bloody orifice large enough for it to shove its way into her rear. The stench of decay and shit overwhelmed her, wafting off the mess of innards in chocking waves. She realized this animated mass of insides was the source of the fan blockage at precisely the same time the smell and the pain go the better of her, forcing her to vomit a sloppy gush of bile onto the fan blades. Her strong legs kicked out, trying to break free of the guts’ grip, but finding them far stronger than she would have assumed.

With few decent options open to her, Natasha realized the certainty of her death. She made a desperate attempt to minimize her suffering, bringing her pistol up under her chin. Before she could squeeze the trigger, the viscera snared her wrist and pulled her hand away. Instead of blowing her brains out, the bullet plunked meaninglessly into the vent above her. She cried out as her wrist was broken and the gun tumbled from her fingers. Natasha made a grab for it with her uninjured hand, only to find the weapon already being pulled away from her. She grunted as the intestine violating her ass shoved several more squirming inches into her.

Another toothy length of intestine pressed against Natasha’s cunt. The woman’s face went pale, eyes bulging and mouth gaping as she suffered through the agony of her sensitive folds and small clit gnashed into some much tattered flesh. Urine gushed out of her and into the intestine’s maw as she lost control of her bladder. Tears welled up in Natasha’s eyes as the tripe fucked her cunt alongside the length filling her bowels. Her arms stretched out in front of her, fingers gripping the fan as she urgently tried to pull herself away from the living viscera. Her toned abs bulged as her guts were fucked by guts. Seras’ innards yanked back on Natasha’s legs with a rough, hard jerk, snapping them from their joints.

The length of intestine stretching Natasha’s cunt chewed through her cervix and ripped through her uterus. A third length of the innards squeezed into her shredded asshole, helping the first feast upon the woman’s insides. Blood dribbled from Natasha’s bottom lip. The lower half of her body became covered in Seras’ guts, more tendrils slithering over her. One tugged the zipper on the front of her bodysuit down to free her plump, sweaty tits before latching onto one of her nipples. The bony teeth pierced her nipple, suckling the blood from her breast like a newborn child. As another slid through her red hair and pressed its teeth against the back of her skull, Natasha spotted another means of ending her suffering and desperately tried to achieve it.

Natasha managed to pull herself forward enough to get her head through the fan. It wouldn’t be as fast as the gun, but she hoped it would work fast enough to keep her from suffering through the terrible violation and devouring the guts were bestowing upon her. She managed to tug one of her hands free of their tangled grip and frantically searched for the button that would start the fan up again. The majority of the viscera responsible for tangling it up had been removed. “Please,” Natasha whimpered, hating how weak the grotesque monstrosity had made her. In the end, she’d not even been granted the privilege of getting to go out fighting. Blindsided by zombified organs in an air duct and used like so many of the other unfortunates who’d been whisked into the Necropolis had been a fate she’d vowed never to allow herself to find. But the Necropolis was as cruel as it was unfair.

Finding the button, Natasha didn’t hesitate to push it. She let out a whine of dismay as the motor rumbled but the blades didn’t start moving. She coughed up a piece of partially shredded liver as the guts pounded deeper into her lower holes. She could feel other toothy mouths chewing apart her calves and thighs. She pressed the button several more times, panic rising within her as she faced the very real possibility that her plan would not work. The motor continued to rumble, the blades even flickered once, but they did little else. When the guts pried her hand away from the fan and bit through her fingers, Natasha realized any hope she had for a relatively quick and clean death were a thing of the past.

Then the fan sprang to life. The blades rotated with growing speed before slamming to a halt as one of them met the side of Natasha’s neck. She shrieked, horrified that her plan had only partially worked. The pressure of the blade digging into her neck was persistent, but not enough to decapitate her cleanly. Her body rocked back and forth as the guts plundered her body, fucking their way through her innards with cruel ravenousness. The fan’s engine whined as it tried to rotate through the obstruction blocking its bath, widening the gash along the side of Natasha’s throat. It made progress, but at an excruciatingly slow pace, forcing Natasha to feel every centimeter of her decapitation and only adding to her overall suffering.

Natasha’s neck snapped with an audible series of crunches. Her body flopped about wildly within the vent as her eyes rolled back and merciful death finally claimed her. With a wet rip, the fan blade cleaved through the remainder of her neck. Blood gushed from her neck stump, splattering messily across the spinning fan blades as her head rolled deeper into the duct. Death spasms rolled through her, hips shifting to fuck the grotesque abomination driving its way into her. The length of viscera punching its way through her cunt pushed through her tattered esophagus, fucking back and forth with deep strokes.

Satisfied with its meal and eager to trace Natasha’s journey back through the vents, Seras’ guts pulled free of the woman’s headless, twitching husk. It left her behind as it crept its way deeper into the air ducts, closer to the bunker of survivors unaware of the danger approaching. The psychic connection between the zombified innards and the rest of the Legions of the Undead was weak, but not so weak that all around the Necropolis other creatures began to stir and converge on the bunker. The safety it provided would soon be a thing of the past.


How about some School Live characters?


At the moment, no one in the suggestion tier has sponsored one to be in the monthly poll, although I do have a Paragraph of Snuff for Yuki Takeya coming up next month. Considering sharing the PoS's here, too, but if not, you'll be able to find it over on the Depravity Repository forum sometime in September.


Chapter Twenty-Six: Sarah Kerrigan [Zerg Form]

Sarah Kerrigan had forgotten her humanity long ago. She’d found a strange form of comfort as the Queen of Blades. Having her connection to her nontraditional Zerg family suddenly ripped away from her left her disoriented and angry. Her rage made short work of the undead monstrosities she found waiting for her. It kept her living long enough to regain her senses and survey her strange new surroundings. She carved out a slice of the Necropolis for herself while making plans to find some means of returning to her hive. It was in the calm that Kerrigan sensed something tickling at her mind, a bizarre psychic link connecting the creatures roaming the dead city.

Kerrigan recognized the danger, but the link between the creatures was so much like her own link with the rest of the Zerg. It didn’t take long until the loneliness overwhelmed the potential danger. She left the little lair she’d made for herself and used the psychic radio chatter to lead her to the nearest walking corpse. She subdued the rotting man with ease, wrestling him back to her lair. Just because she was lonely didn’t mean she was stupid. She needed to see if what she hoped was even possible. Dismembering the zombie was easy and – due to his unholy life – far less fatal than it should have been. She left him as a head and torso on the floor, twitching limbs scattered around him.

She spent the better part of a day forcing her way into the zombie’s mind. There was just enough resistance that Kerrigan didn’t suspect any greater power at play, but there was. The Omni allowed her access to the psychic network of undead monstrosities, allowed her to corrupt herself with the it. Kerrigan thought that she was working her way into controlling a new horde, but nothing could be further from the truth. The smirk came easily to her face as she spotted the throbbing stiffness in the limbless zombie’s pants. The loneliness and corruption encouraged her to open the pants and reveal the prize waiting inside. “So you wish to worship your new goddess,” she purred. “I approve of your offering.”

Kerrigan squatted over the zombie, holding his prick steady as she lowered her crotch onto him. The dead man groaned as her warm, slick slit enveloped his member. Kerrigan was no stranger to carnal pleasures, but it had been a while for her. Being the Queen of Blades left little time for personal pleasures and recreation. The man was far from huge, but he felt quite large within her compact cunt. She rolled her hips awkwardly, working to relearn the act of fucking. It took her a little while, but her lover was patient and appreciative of any attention she gave him. Before long, she had it, bouncing atop his stiff dick with spirited movements.

The zombie’s cock swelled and burst within her, spraying the slippery walls of her snatch with his seed. Kerrigan thought nothing of the dangers of the unprotected sex, too lost in the pleasure and already too deep under the Omni’s spell. She pulled her messy crotch off of the zombie’s wilting member and crawled down to purr and slurp along the slab of meat while eagerly groping one sweaty tit. “Yes,” she hissed, already using her new connecting to the Legions of the Undead to beckon more of the creatures to her lair. “I do think I’m going to enjoy my new home quite a bit.”

Kerrigan abandoned her previous mantel of Queen of Blades, instead taking up a new title as Queen of the Dead. She spent her days and nights in her lair being endlessly worshipped by the undead denizens of the Necropolis. It would have been equally accurate to call her the Whore of the Dead, her lair little more than a brothel. Her wings lay spread beneath her, withered from disuse, and her legs lay spread open for any undead lover interested in taking a turn. The orgy of stinking, rotting meat was endless, only interrupted when the unholy offspring fucked into the woman finished gestating. She birthed fresh creatures to inhabit the nightmare city, finding herself increasingly mesmerized by the things that crawled out of her gaping snatch.

Being psychically connected to the undead creatures lurking in the city afforded Kerrigan a nice source of entertainment during her orgies. She felt her children going forth and killing the intruders spontaneously teleported into her city. She moaned around an undead prick as she psychically experienced Velma getting boned by the zombie dog who’d been her companion for so long. She drove her hips up to meet another lover’s thrusts as she dwelled in the experience of Emma Frost’s soft brain getting fucked full of holes. She dribbled cum down her chin and fiddled her clit as she writhed in the psychic ecstasy of Seras Victoria’s zombified guts tearing the woman apart from within.

Kerrigan’s pregnant belly brushed across the floor as she bucked back against the Hell Hound drilling its way into her ass. The anal pounding was exquisitely bestial, just the way she liked it. But as the hound’s knot swelled within her rectum as he neared his release, the Queen of the Dead sensed something that distracted her from her pleasure. The undead slop of viscera that had ripped through Seras had found something quite interesting. A way into the bunker of survivors that had been a thorn in Kerrigan’s side for so long. The group largely kept to themselves, but their scouting parties frequently murdered her children and the knowledge that there was a hive of uncorrupted life somewhere within her city infuriated her. She had connections within their bunker. The batch of zombies Bathory had collected were Kerrigan’s eyes and ears, but up until that point, they’d offered nothing of use.

But the slimy tangle of guts had found a way in, had already murdered one of the inhabitants. Kerrigan ignored the pulsing spurts of Hell Hound jizz splattering the inner walls of her ass, shifting into the commander of troops she’d been before her interdimensional abduction. She ordered Seras’ guts to hold back. The innards were deadly, but a singular attack would not be successful. She stretched her psychic muscles, reaching out to as many of the monstrosities within the Necropolis as she could and passing along the location of the bunker. Throughout the city, zombies and monsters alike stopped what they were doing and began to make their way to the reinforced underground fort.

It would take time for her minions to find the bunker and position themselves for attack, but that was just fine with Kerrigan. She’d been bred enough times to know that, although she couldn’t exactly control what she gave birth to, she could manipulate the corrupted fetuses that grew within her in some way. She grunted as she pulled her aching ass off of the Hell Hound’s limp member, leaving her sphincter gaping and oozing. Kerrigan rolled onto her back, tracing her fingers over her pregnant belly. The thing inside her was the bastard offspring of about fifty zombies, a pack of Hell Hounds, two Hell Flyers, a Big Boy, and a massive centipede with dozens of cocks sprouting from its carapace that she’d dubbed the Royal Throne. It was impossible to know how the combined genetic material would coalesce within her womb, but Kerrigan let her eyes slip closed and focused on the bunker, on destroying it, on violating every living being within it, doing her best to push those urges into the thing growing inside her.

The familiar pressure within her belly of impending birth spiked into a sharp pain. Kerrigan groaned, far too familiar with the pain. A creamy discharge erupted from her pulsing cunt, spraying against her inner thighs and across the floor. The new life within her shifted and twisted. Kerrigan’s jaw clenched, her discomfort rising as the mangled flesh within her grew with alarming speed. Whatever was within her was just as eager to come out and begin murdering as she was. Clawed fingers pushed through her cunt, hooking around her pussy lips and pulling them apart. The hint of a face within her sex peered out, three yellow eyes doting the side of its cheek just above a wide, shark-toothed grin. The creature struggled to force its oversized head through Kerrigan’s snatch, but the orifice was too small to allow it an exit.

Kerrigan screamed as one of her child’s back feet kicked out, ripping through the top of her womb and into her guts. Her bulging stomach swelled to a greater size, flesh stretching grotesquely as the monster pushed out to try to gain more room to move. Blood drizzled from her stretching cunt and from the corners of her lips. Her child was too large. She knew she would not survive the birthing process. Connected to it on an intimately psychic level, she encouraged her new creation to tear through her. Her nipples stood stiffly atop her sweaty breasts, arousal surging through her as she realized she would die giving birth to the greatest monstrosity the Necropolis had ever seen. It was a good way to go, as far as she was concerned. The ultimate culmination of her role as the Queen of the Dead.

Kerrigan’s belly split open down the middle, opening up like a gory zipper. Blood and viscera sprayed from her gut as the thing within her pulled her flesh apart. She shuddered on the floor, struggling for air as she watched the magnificent beast rising in front of her. Its spine creaked and popped, still growing to a daunting twenty feet in height. Its legs were lithe and toned, a massive prick dangling between them. It possessed no testicles, only a smooth cleft of a cunt just behind its member. Kerrigan gave her child a bloody grin of joy, savoring the sight of the monstrous hermaphrodite towering over her. It had six tits running down the front of it, the top pair being the largest. Four arms, the upper pair thick and muscular while the bottom pair were more akin to a spider’s limbs. Six eyes dotting the sides of its face and sunken nose above its wide mouth. Dark, greasy hair covered its scalp, flowing down the back of its neck. Its skin was a greenish-grey color and as it stretched a pair of rubbery wings sprouted from its back and stretched into the air.

Kerrigan saw a lot of herself in the creation, but so much more. It was stronger than her, better than her, a worthy heir to her throne. Gathering the lingering strength she possessed, Kerrigan managed to sit up. She placed her trembling hands along the sides of her child’s thighs and rubbed her cheek against its limp member. “I bless you, my child,” she panted, planting gentle kisses against its cock. “Go forth.” She shuddered, coughed up a thick wad of blood. “Make them die,” she groaned, weakness flooding through her. “Slowly.” Her eyes rolled back as she lost her grip on the creature’s thighs, flopping back onto the floor. Kerrigan’s Child watched its mother die in silence. When she was dead, it leaned over her, closing its clawed fingers over her face. The claws dug into her skin and ripped the flesh from her skull, stuffing the stolen face into its maw and chewing messily.

Kerrigan’s Child turned and strode out of the Queen’s lair, eager to do its mother’s final bidding. It had barely left the room before the Hell Hound returned to Kerrigan’s lifeless husk. The beast buried his large head in her gaping gut and began to feed. Kerrigan’s purpose had been served. Now she was nothing more than meat to be consumed.


Chapter Twenty-Seven: Daenerys Targaryen

Daenerys Targaryen missed her dragons. They’d have been an invaluable resource in the inhospitable world she’d found herself in, but she missed their companionship more than anything. She was thankful to have found the bunker, certain that she’d have been dead long ago if she hadn’t. Despite her youth, she’d managed to secure a spot within the small group of governing forces in charge of the bunker. Dany focused the bulk of her attention on trying to keep the day-to-day life in the bunker as pleasant as possible for the other survivors, but she continued to strive for a more direct approach to the horrors outside, knowing it was only a matter of time before their safety was compromised.

Unfortunately, Daenerys had more immediate problems in closer proximity. Specifically, Dr. Bathory Mengele. The woman unnerved her. That was nothing new. She’d had a bad feeling about Bathory since meeting her. But now her experiments were going too far. Dany understood the necessity of certain sacrifices, but simply offering up survivors deemed too much of a burden to Bathory’s demented intentions seemed morally wrong. She’d argued with the other leaders at great length about the woman, but only found herself growing more and more frustrated. It wasn’t that the others didn’t agree with her. None of them liked Bathory. But they valued her medical training and her claims that she could find a means of fighting the undead horde outside the bunker walls.

With the death of Mikoto Kino weighing on her and the genuine fear that Bathory would soon work to convince the other leaders to offer her up as another sacrifice for the greater good, Daenerys returned to her private quarters. If the sadistic doctor wished to threaten her, Dany would not go quietly or peacefully. She didn’t need her dragons to be a threat. Even so, she made sure to lock the door behind her after entering her room. Although Bathory seemed to enjoy manipulating people into giving her what she wanted, Dany would not have put to past the woman to employ more devious methods.

Tugging her top over her head, Daenerys dropped it into the laundry bin near the front of her room. The bunker was equipped with laundry services, but the machines remained unused to avoid wasting water. Instead, the laundry was washed by hand, using as little water as possible. The purification system was still running fine, but they couldn’t afford taxing it too much until they managed to take in someone capable of repairing the contraption. Bathing was similarly regulated, with only baths being allowed and even then only once every few days. Judging by the smell of stale sweat wafting off of her, Dany decided it was certainly time to clean herself up. She ran a warm bath and finished stripping down before sliding into the tub.

The water helped to soothe Daenerys’ nerves and loosen her muscles. Her life had been filled with hardships, but she’d never anticipated a sudden transportation to a bizarre new world filled with even more danger than the land she’d come from. There was little she could think of to change her predicament, but it frustrated her all the same. She was needed back home and, although she had a knack for leadership, she recognized that leadership by committee may was well have not been leadership at all. The group spent more time debating the best course of action than simply doing something – anything – to fix their problems. She was glad she’d gone behind the others’ backs to get Natasha into the vents to seek out the source of the noxious stench. If she’d gone about things the proper way, she’d still be arguing about it instead of relaxing in the tub. Dany hoped Natasha found and cleared the source of smell soon; it seemed to be growing stronger.

The reason for the increased stench was easy enough to explain. Seras’ zombified guts had slithered their way up to the vent leading into Daenerys’ room. They would have attacked already if not for Kerrigan’s command. The guts coiled and uncoiled within the vent, slopping smears of blood across the walls as their agitation grew. They observed Daenerys as she bathed, admiring the pulsing glow of her hot blood rushing through her veins. Her youth and vitality called to the guts, beckoned them to crawl from the vent and claim her, but the psychic control Kerrigan possessed kept them tangled mess in check. That control vanished as the Queen of the Dead expired. The guts attacked seconds later.

Daenerys shrieked as the air vent just above her tub shot outwards and clattered to the floor. Her hands moved to the side of the tub, pushing her halfway up as her eyes fixed on the glistening mass of tangled viscera pulling their way through the open vent. The handgun she’d been given and trained with sat on the small table next to her bed and while the private room was far from huge, the weapon was still too far away to do her any good. She tried all the same, twisting to the side and leaning over the rim of the tub. The guts sprang towards her at the same moment. Daenerys managed another scream that was abruptly cut off as the cold pile of innards slapped wetly across her face.

The guts stretched out a pair of tendrils, looping around Daenerys’ wrists and pinning them to the rim of the tub. Her back knocked against the rear of the tub, splashing water over her shoulders. Daenerys clamped her lips shut tight and wished she could do the same for her nose as she was forced to breathe in the stench of decay wafting off the reanimated intestines. She twisted her head from side to side, attempting to dislodge the guts with little success. She squeezed her eyes, uncomfortably aware of a pair of tattered lengths of intestine slapping excitedly across her chest, forcing her damp breasts to jiggle.

Daenerys flexed her muscles, trying to pull her arms free of the monstrosity’s grip. Her legs kicked out wildly, splashing water over the rim of the tub. Her urgent grunts were muffled as the guts pressed harder against her face, curling its fleshy appendages around the back of the young woman’s head. The intestines slithered through Daenerys’ vibrant blonde locks, clinging to her firmly. Her face scrunched up with rising disgust, fighting to hold down the vomit stinging the back of her throat. The innards pressed roughly against her lips, trying to pry them open. Daenerys did everything she could to keep that from happening.

The guts weren’t going to be deterred so easily. Sliding a slippery length of intestine between Daenerys’ breasts and over her belly. The intestine curled between her kicking legs and pressed against her vulnerable sex. The hose-like length of flesh pressed its tip against the fold s of her pussy and jabbed forward. The sudden penetration shocked Daenerys, enough so that she couldn’t keep the startled gasp in check. The moment her lips parted, the innards pressing against her face surged forward. Her mouth became cramped with the viscera. It mashed her tongue against the bottom of her mouth and plugged her throat, forcing her to gag. Her clenching throat muscles worked overtime, but couldn’t dislodge the guts.

Daenerys’ throat bulged as the guts squeezed deeper into her. The tendril plundering her snatch wiggled with excitement. Her face reddened as she choked on the innards. She managed to pull her hands free as the intestines retracted. She slapped at the mass of greasy flesh violating her mouth, fingers digging into the squishy tangle but failing to get a firm enough hold to pull it away. Burning pain shot through Daenerys’ chest and belly as the gnashing teeth sprouting from the intestines began to chew and tear through her own insides. Muffled whines of pain gurgled in the back of her throat as her stomach bulged. Her hands dropped down, clutching at her gut as she was ravenously devoured from within.

After having stuffed itself on a fair amount of Natasha’s body already, Seras’ guts quickly found themselves too full to continue feasting. The chattering teeth slowed and the writhing tendrils instead began to shove the torn and partially devoured internal organs left within Daenerys’ body downwards. With a gurgling sputter, Daenerys was forced to swallow the last of the guts. Her teeth clamped shut, shrieking through them as a burning pressure built in her ass. Her asshole gaped, spraying out a bloody spray of chunky internal organs that stained the water left in the tub. She howled, bashing the back of her head against the rim of the tub as her body twisted and writhed as she shit out her innards. Her pussy prolapsed and erupted, violently giving birth to her own reproductive system. A mangled mass of uterus and fallopian tubes floated between her widely parted thighs.

Daenerys’ howls tapered off into weak gasps for air. Her eyes rolled back, head slumping half under the water as a final shudder rolled through her body. The zombified guts continued to rip away the young woman’s insides and shove them out of whatever orifice was convenient. Her corpse continued to twitch, meaty chunks oozing from her stretched asshole and dribbling down her chin. The guts stretched out within the hollowed out space it had created, attaching itself to the inside of Daenerys’ body. Slithering a length of intestine back up her throat, it chewed through the rough of her mouth and sank into her brain. Daenerys’ eyes rolled sightlessly for a few moments before blinking, a soft moan passing her bloody lips.

The guts tried out their new vessel. Daenerys held her hands in front of her, turning them back and forth. She lifted her legs from the gory soup in the tub and stretched them out, wiggling her toes. Her lips pulled into a sadistic grin as the guts gained further control over the husk. She brought her hands to her chest, cupping her full breasts and giving them a squeeze. Standing was tricky at first, but the guts learned fast. Daenerys stepped out of the tub and let the water drain as best it could before the drain became clogged with chunks of internal organs. She toweled off, wiping away as much of the blood clinging to her as she could.

Before the guts could use their new host for more fun, a new controller had assumed Kerrigan’s post. The orders remained the same. Wait for reinforcements. The guts obeyed. Daenerys’ plump buttocks jiggled as the zombified innards walked her body out of the bathroom and over to the bed. She dropped onto the hard mattress, more than happy to pass the time getting intimately acquainted with her new form. Her legs fell open and her fingers moved down to rub her slit, moaning softly as she dragged a fingertip over her clitoris. The fingers dove into the still warm depths of her cunt, giggling as she worked the length of intestine that had become Daenerys’ vaginal canal around the digits.

Two of the bunker’s residents had been claimed by the Legions of the Undead already. The rest of the survivors knew nothing of the deaths. They knew nothing of the hordes lumbering towards their reinforced doors. They knew nothing of the pack of zombies lurking in Bathory’s lab. And they knew nothing of Kerrigan’s Child, stomping her way towards the sanctuary with murderous lust glinting in her eyes. Their ignorance would be their downfall. But in the meantime, the infested form of Daenerys Targaryen gleefully masturbated, eager to see how many meals it could consume before anyone discovered the deadly surprise lurking within the woman’s unassuming form.


Could a fairy tail girl face the zombies next? Like Lucy, Erza, or another sexy piece of meet?


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Chapter Twenty-Eight: Mikasa Ackerman

Mikasa Ackerman was no stranger to living in fear from impossible horrors. Her fear had worn away long before she’d found herself in the Necropolis. So when the bunker’s leaders had gone looking for volunteers to scout the city and look for supplies, she’d no hesitated to sign up. The bunker was well-stocked, but it wouldn’t remain so forever. If the survivors inside wanted to go on living, they would need to be resupplied. And if they ever wanted to find a means of effectively fighting back against the horde of nightmare creations stalking them, they would need to observe them in their natural habitat and seek out bigger and better weapons to fight them.

Keeping one eye on the batch of looters she’d taken out on a scavenging expedition and the other one potential threats, Mikasa felt the cold calmness that washed over her every time her life was on the line. Death did not scare her. She had higher priorities than survival. Specifically, keeping the rest of her party alive. So far, she’d not lost anyone on any of her expeditions. She counted that as a victory. This particular excursion hadn’t borne much in the way of useful materials. Some food, several bottles of water, and some engine parts that could be used to make repairs to the machinations within the bunker with a little augmentation. Their backpacks were hardly full, but a report had come in from another team that the monsters were restless. Mikasa didn’t want to risk staying out any longer.

Mikasa allowed herself a small sigh of relief as they arrived at the hidden entrance they’d use to leave the bunker. She cursed herself a moment later for allowing herself to relax even a little as the familiar screech of Hell Flyers cut through the air. She spun towards them, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits as she drew her sword. She saw the others tense up, panic filling their eyes. There wasn’t a fighter amongst them. They wouldn’t last long against the horrors. “Get inside,” she barked, readying her vertical maneuvering equipment. “I’ll hold them off.” When she spotted a couple of the looters hesitating, she waved a hand at them. “Go, dammit!”

Firing a grappling hook into the ledge of a nearby building, Mikasa shot forward into the air. The Hell Flyers shrieked and cackled, bat-like wings flapping with excitement as their prey surged towards them. Twisting her body to the side, she lashed out with her blade, grazing one creature’s thigh while snapping her foot up to bruise the other’s jaw and send its head shooting back. She spun in the air, detaching the wire from her first harpoon as her feet planted against the side of the building and launched her back towards the nearest demon. It swooped beneath her, narrowly avoiding being cleaved in half down the middle. Mikasa somersaulted and fired another harpoon into the building on the opposite end of the straight, swooping low enough that her boots nearly clipped the ground before swinging high into the air again.

Mikasa kept as much of her attention on the looting party as she could, wanting to make sure they got into the bunker safely. It wasn’t as simple as just opening the door. If it had been, the bunker would have been compromised almost immediately. Beyond the time it would take them to open the entryway, the passage was narrow enough that only one could squeeze through at a time. Mikasa swung and leapt through the Hell Flyers, taking swipes at them, focusing her attention more on keeping the things distracted than trying to kill them. If she could do both, all the better, but her first priority was to get everyone back to the bunker safely. A momentary lapse in focus left the side of her top sliced open from one Hell Flyer’s claws. The near strike stirred her anger.

Swinging high into the air, Mikasa looped around and let herself drop. A concussive thud shot through her crotch as she dropped onto the offending Hell Flyer’s back, straddling it like a horse. Its wings beat harder, struggling to remain in the air with her added weight. It brought its bony arms back, trying to claw her up and throw her aside. With her upper lip curling into a snarl, Mikasa brought the tip of her blade to the base of the Hell Flyer’s skull and shoved forward. With a pained yelp, the beast shuddered beneath her as her blade skewered its brain and exploded from its forehead. The thing’s wings flapped spastically for another moment before flopping lifelessly at its sides. She shot another harpoon into the nearest building and swung out from atop the dead creature as it dropped to the road below.

While Mikasa had been teaching the Hell Flyer to keep its claws to itself, the other had taken a dive towards the pair of survivors still waiting to squeeze into the bunker entrance. Mikasa reacted fast, launching a harpoon and swinging towards the airborne monstrosity. It had a decent head start on her, but she was confident she could catch up. She had to. Firing the gas mechanism in her suit, she launched herself forward at a great speed, aware but uncaring of the fact that if she missed her target, she’d wind up faceplanting into the asphalt at a great enough speed to shatter every bone in her head.

Just before Mikasa reached the Hell Flyer, the creature suddenly shifted, twisting around to face her. The girl’s eyes widened, realizing that she’d fallen right into its trap. One of its clawed feet came up and caught her just beneath the chin. Her head snapped back, body flipping over in the air. She hit the ground ass first, bruising her posterior and skidding across the road a few feet before slumping there. Mikasa shook off the kick and the dull pain radiating up through her ass and rolled onto her feet, launching herself back into the air. She’d lost the momentum and rhythm of battle, but she was determined to get it back.

The Hell Flyer, emboldened by the success of its trap, took full advantage of Mikasa’s disorientation, evading her strikes and forcing her to fire harpoon after harpoon in an attempt to keep up with it. The beast occasionally took swipes at the survivors below to further throw her off guard. Flustered by the Hell Flyer’s seemingly sporadic attacks and feints, Mikasa didn’t notice the thing snagging the wires she’d left in her wake until it was too late. She let out an angry yell as one of the wires looped around her ankle, bringing an end to her forward momentum. Her body spun forward dangling for a moment before the Hell Flyer shoved one of her spent harpoons through her palm, threading her flesh and leaving her suspended from the wires in a tangled mess.

After looping a few more wires around Mikasa’s limbs and torso, the Hell Flyer moved in closer. It perched on her lower back and let out a triumphant shriek, stretching its wings out proudly as its fleshy member stiffened. Mikasa struggled as best she could within the wires, but they were too tightly drawn to allow her much in the way of movement. The Hell Flyer enjoyed her struggles, dragging its claws over her outfit and slowly tearing it away. Fear of humiliation and death remained elusive for Mikasa. She turned her attention to the hatchway leading into the bunker. Only one survivor remained. She’d very nearly succeeded in her mission to keep them safe.

Frustration ate away at Mikasa as she saw the survivor hanging back, fearful eyes fixed on her suspended form. The survivor’s fear wasn’t for herself, but for Mikasa. The woman wanted to try to help her. “Go!” Mikasa yelled down at her, uncomfortably aware of one of the Hell Flyer’s claws cupping one of her pert breasts. “Get inside! Saber’s guarding this entryway! Tell her what’s happening, let her handle it!” The survivor made a move towards the hatch but still hesitated. “Just go, damn you!” Mikasa felt relief as the woman finally obeyed, disappearing into the hatchway. She doubted Saber would make it back in time to save her, but perhaps the woman could get some revenge for her.

The Hell Flyer took no notice of the last survivor getting away. Its mission had been to track the pack of survivors back to their bunker, to find how they were getting in and out of the city. That mission was a success. Trapping Mikasa was simply a delightful bonus. Being outside of the bunker made her fair game as far as Kerrigan’s Child was concerned. Bringing its claws back around, the Hell Flyer scooted back to dig its clawed toes into the toned muscle of the young woman’s powerful thighs and pried her firm buttocks apart. Guiding the tip of its member to her anus, the beast bucked forward with merciless force, skewering the orifice and drawing a grunt of discomfort from Mikasa’s lips.

Mikasa cringed as the Hell Flyer hammered deeper into her bowels, clutching at her hips for optimum leverage. She kept her eyes fixed on the bunker hatchway, thankful that the last survivor had at least been clear headed enough to close the passage behind her. Just because she didn’t fear death didn’t mean she wished for it. She silently hoped to see Saber emerge from the hatchway, ready and able to slaughter the beast violating her before it grew tired of playing with her body. Being violated by the beast was far from pleasant, but it was something she knew she could overcome if she was given enough time. She could use it to fuel her in the ongoing fight against the monstrosities.

Her line of sight with the hatchway was blocked out as another of the Hell Flyers swooped down in front of her. Its stiff, leathery prick smacked against her cheeks, dragging hot, sticky pre-cum across her skin. The sulfuric stench of its leakage caused her to gag and the creature took full advantage of her parted lips, shoving its rough member into her mouth. The taste of its pre-cum was even worse than the smell. Tears sprang to Mikasa’s eyes as her throat and nasal cavities burned with barely contained bile. The creature hugged the back of her head firmly, humping down her throat with quick thrusts.

Mikasa’s tangled form swayed back and forth within the criss-crossing wires stretching between the buildings. Blood dribbled from the punctured skin of her thighs, rolling around her legs and dripping to the ground below. Saliva drained down her chin, stretching in stringy lines downwards. The Hell Flyer riding her back slammed its full length up her ass, its balls slapping against the smooth slit of her cunt. Her nipples stood at firm attention, stimulated by the cool night air and the sexual assault. The cock invading her throat was thin enough that she could still breathe more or less, but her nostrils flared each time she sucked in air. The two Hell Flyers cackled out their satisfaction as they stuffed the young woman at both ends.

The Hell Flyer fucking Mikasa’s face flapped its wings harder, maintaining its tight grip on her head as it flew to the side. She groaned as her head was forced to turn along with the creature. With her head turned to the side, the beast stretched a leg out to plant its foot against the top of her shoulder, partially landing and giving its tired wings a chance to rest. A pressure built within Mikasa’s neck as she was forced to keep her head cocked to the side awkwardly. She winced as the Hell Flyer fucking her ass reached around to drag its claws across her toned abs, leaving a series of deep gouges through her skin that added to the drizzle of bloody rain spattering across the asphalt.

The claws digging into Mikasa’s shoulder tightened, puncturing her skin and scrapping against bone. She was given only a moment to experience that pain before the Hell Flyer kicked out with its leg and beat its wings frantically. Her eyes bulged as her head turned well beyond the point it was meant to. Her neck snapped, numbing her body. Skin stretched obscenely as her head was forced to turn until it sat backwards on her body. Her esophagus gripped the Hell Flyer’s pumping prick even tighter as it twisted around the fleshy member. Cut off from her brain, Mikasa’s body jerked wildly within her bindings, humping her ass up to meet the thrusts of the creature hammering its way into her bowels. Urine gushed from her crotch, splashing over the Hell Flyer’s testicles.

The tightness of Mikasa’s twisted throat teased the Hell Flyer to climax. It pulled back just far enough to pop its head free of her rotated neck and let its steaming cum spray the inside of the young woman’s mouth. There was still enough life left in Mikasa that she tasted the putrid seed flowing over her weakly fluttering tongue. It overflowed her mouth and drained across her cheeks and chin. It was only just as the darkness of death greeted her that she felt the fear of nonexistence. Her wide eyes blinked, allowing the tears sparkling in them to break free and roll down her face, before losing focus and growing dim. The Hell Flyer poured the remainder of its loud into her mouth before pulling free and slapping his softening prick against her forehead a few times.

Although Mikasa was quite dead, the Hell Flyer responsible for stealing her life wasn’t finished with her. It tightened its claws into her scalp and planted its feet on her shoulders. With a howl of triumph, it launched from her body, ripping her head away with a fleshy shredding sound. Blood drained listlessly from the stump as it took to the air, hoisting the young woman’s head above it like a trophy. The Hell Flyer fucking Mikasa’s ass giggled as it watched its companion take a few victory laps through the alley. It dug its claws deeper into the young woman’s belly, ripping her open and letting her steaming innards spill free from her. Lengths of intestine dangled beneath Mikasa, some of them becoming entangled in the wires that had trapped her so effectively.

When the Hell Flyer clutching Mikasa’s head completed its third circuit of the alley, it cocked its arms back and flung the girl’s head towards the ground. Mikasa’s head hit the ground hard, exploding into a spray of brains, blood, and bone. The mushy pile left behind was unrecognizable with the exception of a single eye that had managed to escape destruction. The Hell Flyer was quick to swoop down and snatch the eye up, shove it into its mouth, and chew it into a deflated morsel. The creature purred as the ocular fluid drained down the back of its throat, followed shortly after by the thoroughly chewed eye sac.

The Hell Flyer still riding Mikasa’s corpse filled the dead girl’s bowels with his seed. Prying free of her loosened asshole, it took flight, joining its companion in the victory laps and screeching out a call to other Hell Flyers in the vicinity. Soon Mikasa’s dangling corpse became busy with several of the creatures, used as a fuckable perch for them to enjoy. They raped her holes and chewed the flesh from her bones, turning the once noble warrior into a grisly reminder of what could happen to even the most skilled fighters when they faced the horrors of the Necropolis.

Miles away, but closer than the survivors would have liked, Kerrigan’s Child smiled. She’d discovered one entry point for the bunker. The Hell Flyers had been brash to reveal their presence to the survivors, but it was only the mildest of hiccups. Now that they knew the entrance had been compromised, the survivors would no doubt focus their defenses on that point. All she needed was to discover a few more entryways and the assault could begin. Stretching out psychically, her smile became a wicked grin. Those entrances had already been found. Now they simply had to be secured.


Chapter Twenty-Nine: Anna

Anna wasn’t much for following the rules, especially when it came to the possibility of earning profit. Admittedly, profit was a loosely defined term in the Necropolis, but she’d managed to find some degree of it after finding her way to the bunker of survivors. While most of the other survivors focused on staying alive and worrying about the looming danger of the city, Anna had opened up shop. No one had much in the way of traditional currency, which made it practically worthless. But there was still value in certain items and Anna was more than happy to barter her way to the Necropolis’s equivalent of riches. But in order to keep her customers happy, she needed to have the rarest of simple pleasures and necessities. In order to secure such things, she had to face the dangers of the city alone by way of a secret passage she’d discovered shortly after her arrival.

Anna was a capable enough fighter that she didn’t have much trouble dispatching the few zombies she encountered on her typical expeditions. She kept a low enough profile to avoid the meaner monsters, hiding and sneaking away from them whenever she countered them. She did her best to stay as close to her private passage as she could in case things got too dangerous, but she knew that would only last for so long. She’d picked the majority of the shops clean of useful items and knew she’d have to expand her search to other blocks soon, but not yet. She’d not yet checked every nook and cranny in the little strip mall and until she confirmed the area was picked clean completely, she didn’t chance the risk of moving too far away from the safety of the bunker.

Even with her secret entrance a quick jog away, Anna was further from safety than she realized. She’d spent enough time in the area over a long period of time that the Blow Hunter had no trouble picking up her scent. The monstrosity lay in wait for her, discovering exactly where she was coming from. Relaying that information back to Kerrigan’s Child and confirming that the young woman was alone, the Blow Hunter was given clearance to eliminate her. The creature was thrilled to do so. Hunting and eliminating targets was precisely what his kind had been designed to do.

The Blow Hunter had an anorexic appearance, four boney arms growing out from his sides. His skin was a charcoal black, making it easy for him to slip into the shadows and disappear. Numerous eyes dotted his head and thin slit-like nostrils ran up the center of his face. His puckered mouth was just large enough to allow his long tongue to slither free. His soft, greasy skin was dotted with dozens of hard nubs and his legs folded inwards to allow him to jump to impressive heights and distances with great speed. His clawed hands and feet dug into the brick wall, perched near the top of the building he had chosen to lie in wait, while his dark eyes followed Anna’s every move, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Anna’s face lit up with surprise as she spotted one highly sought-after treasure lying just outside the shattered door of a defunct pub. It was a condom machine that had seemingly been ripped out of the wall and chucked through the door. In terms of coveted creature comforts, condoms ranked highly. There were surprisingly few men in the bunker, but with death constantly looming over the survivors, there was a huge desire to fuck the fear away. Pregnancy and disease were, if anything, even more of a concern in the Necropolis than they were in the normal world. With a healthy supply of condoms, Anna could procure damn near anything she liked, as well as the personal pleasures they could provide. She hurried over to the machine and knelt over it, hoping that it still had at least a decent stock left inside.

The condom machine had actually come from a bar several blocks away. The Blow Hunter had procured it to use as bait for the young woman after having seen how well looted the surrounding shops were. With his prey facing away from him, bent over with her pleasantly crafted posterior shoved in his direction, the Hunter was glad to see that his ruse had worked. His loose, sac-like skin billowed in the wind as he launched himself towards Anna, landing just behind her as silently as a gentle breeze. The girl was so focused on trying to pry the condom machine open that she didn’t notice his presence until it was too late.

Anna shrieked, jumping as the Blow Hunter’s spindly arms looped around her and pulled her up. She fought to break free, but the thing’s slimy skin clung to her firmly enough that it made movement difficult. It soaked into her clothes, seeming to ooze from the creature’s skin in greater quantities the longer he held her. She cried out for help, knowing that there was none to be found, as the Hunter pulled her up against his chest. She twisted from side to side, slamming her elbows into his body but unable to force him to release her. Fear shot through Anna, unaware of what she’d been caught by. She’d seen plenty of horrors during her time in the Necropolis, but never anything like the creature that held her.

The Blow Hunter twisted Anna away from the condom machine, tugging her away from the wrecked bar and shoving her up against the display window of a clothing store. The young woman grunted as her chest hit the glass, staring into the dark store and finding a row of naked mannequins staring back at her. She remembered looting the store during one of her first excursions out of the bunker, gaining a good bit of notoriety for her shop by offering a wide array of fashionable outfits. Now she was being forced to stare at the remains of her past triumph while her own fashionable outfit was torn open. Her bare breasts smacked against the glass, flattening against it while the Hunter tore away her skirt and ripped her panties halfway down her thighs.

The Hunter shifted his hips back, lining up his twin pricks with Anna’s lower orifices. He ground forward slowly, easing into her cunt and ass. With his prey thoroughly snared, he had no reason not to drag out the penetration. The soft folds of her pussy stretched around one prehensile length of cock while her asshole stretched to take the second. Anna screamed through clenched teeth, managing to pound a clenched fist against the window she was sandwiched against. With a final pump, the Blow Hunter wedged the full length of both his cocks into the young woman. Her breasts were dragged against the glass with fleshy squeaks as he began a steady rhythm of pumps into her.

Anna squirmed against the Hunter, amazed by how much give his body had. She could shift and turn easily enough, but she couldn’t break free from the monster. Her hopes of being saved her minimal, but it didn’t keep her from continuing to scream. No one else knew of her secret means of leaving and returning to the bunker, but perhaps there was another – more official – looting party close enough to hear her. It was a thought that the Blow Hunter also considered. His worm-like tongue extended from his puckered mouth and curled around Anna’s head, shoving its way into her mouth and muffling her cries.

Virtually silenced and bizarrely trapped, Anna could do little more than suffer as the Blow Hunter violated her clenching cunt and ass. The violation grew rougher for her, pain streaking up from her stuffed loins. The Blow Hunter was not designed to live. He was a cruel creation, one that barreled towards an inevitable end once he had served his purpose. With Anna captured, that purpose was concluded. Now he could spend the remainder of his life in the throes of ecstasy courtesy of her body. He fucked her with wild abandon, with total disregard for her well-being or his own. The sticky slime oozing from his pours soaked her tattered clothes and left her skin glistening, lubing up her holes for faster strokes.

With a final hard shove into Anna’s body, the Blow Hunter reached his climax. Instead of basting her insides with creamy spunk, the seed flowed backwards, pouring into the Hunter’s loose form. The creature hugged Anna tighter as his body ballooned outwards, mashing her tighter between himself and the window. The hard nubs doting his body swelled into sharp points that prodded her skin painfully. The growth was rapid, forcing the air from Anna’s lungs as the flesh-balloon enveloped her. As the Hunter’s climax reached its peak, the sharp protrusions shot outwards, transforming the Hunter into a bloated sack of cum-filled flesh with dozens of vicious, bony spikes.

The spikes skewered Anna’s body at numerous points, ripping through her body and leaving her utterly impaled and even more effectively stuck to the creature. One spike punched through the back of her knee while another impaled her upper thigh. Three emerged from various points across her slim belly while another exploded from one plump breast. Her right arm was nearly ripped away as one of the spikes crunched through her shoulder at the same time as another shot through her left wrist. The most damning spike entered the back of her skull and pushed through her brain before emerging from her mouth, knocking her front teeth away in a bloody sneeze.

Stretched to the point of bursting, the Blow Hunter savored the final lingering moments of his one and only orgasm. His prey’s corpse twitched against him, coaxing a few final sparks of pleasure from his body. The Hunter released a satisfied groan deep into Anna’s dead ear as the elasticity of his skin gave out. With a thunderous pop, the Blow Hunter’s body ruptured. Flaps of loose skin and hard spikes exploded outwards, ripping Anna’s body apart as gallons of spunk and gore splattered across the shop window and over the sidewalk. The glass cracked as Anna’s spiked head smacked against it hard enough to dent her forehead inwards.

In the wake of the explosive climax, little remained of Hunter or prey. Even the larger chunks of Anna’s body were so thoroughly drenched in seed that they were impossible to discern from the rest of the mess covering the shopfront. Nothing living had heard Anna’s screams and due to the secretive nature of her unsanctioned exploration of the Necropolis, no one within the bunker even knew she was gone. The precious condoms she’d found would go unclaimed, as would the so-called riches she’d amassed since opening her shop. Soon enough, the ins and outs of commerce would be the least of the survivors’ worries.


Chapter Thirty: Saber

Mikasa had been wrong about the entryway Saber was guarding. It was hardly her fault. She’d conjured the woman’s name to her lips in the middle of a tense situation with the intent of saving a fellow survivor’s life. Even so, she could not have known that Saber had been redeployed while her unit of looters had been out in the city. Not that Saber’s presence would have saved Mikasa from her gruesome fate, but when the harrowed survivor made her way into the bunk, she was shocked to see no sign of the woman. The rest of the team had already brought news of the Hell Flyer attack, a flurry of movement transpiring as the survivors put together a defense against a potential onslaught, just as Kerrigan’s Child had assumed they would.

On the other side of the compound, Saber remained unaware of Mikasa’s predicament or the ensuing bedlam it had caused. She’d been directed to one of the main entrances they’d used to come and go until the Legions had caught on to where the survivors were disappearing to. The armored hatchway was tough, but the creatures had worked away at it long enough that they’d damaged the mechanism and very nearly gotten through. She’d been sent to guard Bulma Briefs – one of the bunker’s few engineers – while she repaired the damage and reinforced the armor. Saber paced back and forth in front of the woman, keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of trouble.

Bulma adjusted her welder goggles and reached over to grab another piece of flattened scrap metal. She positioned the piece over a section of the hatch marred with deep gouges and brought her torch up to start fusing the metal together. Her blue hair was damp with sweat, but she couldn’t shake the chill of fear that ran through her. She’d not been out in the Necropolis since finding the bunker. The less time she spent there, the better, as far as she was concerned. She moved as quickly as she could without sacrificing quality, not wanting a mistake she made to cause the downfall of the whole safe zone.

Saber paused as she thought she heard something like screams, but they didn’t last long enough to give her any indication as to where they were coming from. In the Necropolis, screams were common and they rarely lasted long. She hoped that whoever it was had at least had the good fortune to die quickly. Many didn’t. She glanced to Bulma to see if the woman had heard anything. The last thing she needed was for the engineer to get more spooked than she already was. With the hiss of the torch, it seemed Bulma hadn’t noticed anything. Or, if she had, she was hiding it well. Saber wasn’t given long to dwell on whatever unfortunate victim had been claimed by the city. She caught the scent of putrid rot and knew that her guard duty was about to get a lot more interesting.

A group of the undead shuffled their way around the corner. Leading the pack were the zombified husks of Rebecca Chambers, Zelda, and Psylocke. They growled with delight as they spotted Saber and Bulma, allowing their less noteworthy companions to push past them towards the women. Saber drew her sword and readied herself to fight. This time, Bulma did take notice. Saber gave her a reassuring wave. “Fix the door,” she said. “I’ll handle these things. It’s more important that you finish your work.” The three female zombies stood out amongst the others. She worried that they might be more than what they seemed. But the rest, she was confident she could dispatch. She let them close the distance to her, let them disperse amongst one another due to their varying movement speeds. By the time they reached her, their group was thinned out enough that they posed little threat to her.

Saber cleaved parts from bodies and heads from shoulders. More of the undead came at her, a loosely packed but nearly unending sea of them pressing in on her. She wielded her blade with skilled efficiency, exerting just enough energy to deliver killing blows to the creatures or – if need be – to keep them at bay long enough to deal with them permanently. The bodies dropped around her, dark blood pooling into the gutter. She fell into a rhythm of slaughter, determined to destroy every one of the things. That determination nearly cost her. With her focus fixed on the zombie pack, she nearly didn’t notice the three standouts creeping around behind her.

Ripping her sword free of a zombie’s head, Saber dropped low and swung her blade out behind her. The zombified remains of Zelda gasped as the sharpened steel connected with her just above her hips and sliced cleanly across her body. Her arms clawed towards Saber as her upper half fell away from her lower half. Her legs stumbled forward a couple steps before dropping. On her back with no means of locomotion, Zelda pawed at the ground around her, trying to get her bearings. She glared up at Saber, violently chomping her teeth. She was far from the example of nobility and wisdom she’d once been.

Saber took no notice of what Zelda did after she’d been hacked in half, other than to make a mental note to finish her off when she had a free moment. She twisted her sword the opposite way, lifting it higher to catch Rebecca in the neck. The young zombie medic’s head shot up from her shoulders, hands fumbling up to feel along the cleanly cut edge of her neck stump. Her body fell forward, knees crumpling beneath her and shoulders smacking into the ground. As Rebecca’s head dropped, it connected with one of her buttocks and rolled down her sharply angled back to land more or less where it should have been. The life faded from her milky eyes while her body continued to claw at the ground for a little while longer, hips humping upwards as if fucking something.

Turning towards the third standout zombie, Saber spotted a mystical glowing energy starting to form around Psylocke’s hand. She struck without thought, reacting to the potential danger with lightning speed. The purple-haired woman hissed with rage as the majority of her glowing forearm as hacked away and sent tumbling into a pile of similarly dismembered undead pieces. Saber cocked her arms back, lifting her sword up and back, ready to plunge the blade through the woman’s face and bring an end to her unholy existence. Psylocke made no attempt to get out of the way or defend herself. Her glaring eyes remained fixed on Saber. The blonde warrior only barely caught the hint of a smirk on the undead woman’s face, signaling that something bad was about to happen.

A dark shadow loomed over Saber and a chill ran up her spine. She spun to face whatever fresh hell had stalked up on her while she’d been busy with the trio of female zombies. She gasped, head craning back to take in the twenty-foot tall creature towering over her. Between its staggering height and its massive wings, it easily blocked out whatever light the murky sky provided. The grotesquely horrifying visage of the thing shocked Saber for only a moment, but it only took a moment for Kerrigan’s Child to strike. She brought one muscular arm around and backhanded Saber across the face, sending her spinning and falling to the ground in a daze. With the threat momentarily stunned, the Child turned her attention to Rebecca, Zelda, and Psylocke.

The trio were unique. They’d found undeath only after being brought to the Necropolis. Psylocke was the only one with true power to use, but Kerrigan – and therefor her Child – had taken a liking to them. Not so much of a liking that she’d refrained from using them as a distraction to force Saber into a compromised position, but seeing one of the three dead and the others permanently crippled displeased the Child. Thankfully, she was more than capable of fixing the problem. She reached between her firm thighs and pushed her member to the side, spreading the lips of her cunt apart. With a throaty purr, she squeezed out what looked like a pale cock-shaped worm that plopped onto the ground and began to crawl its way towards Rebecca’s corpse. Two more cock-worms followed shortly after, heading for Zelda and Psylocke.

The cock-worms wiggled their way into the three. Rebecca’s pushed down her torn esophagus and into her body. Zelda’s slithered between her tits and shoved into her mouth. She gladly suckled on the thing as it squirmed its way down her throat. Psylocke’s crept up her leg before working its way into her sex. Once within their hosts, the cock-worms grew. They weren’t meant to take over, merely augment and strengthen their hosts. Psylocke dropped to her knees, crying out and humping her hips against the air as cunt honey exploded from her snatch and the stump of her arm began to grow a new hand. Zelda similarly flailed about, watching with glee as her waist sprouted a new lower half. Rebecca’s headless corpse flopped about, a geyser of girl-cum spraying from her loins as her neck began to blow a bubble that gradually took on the shape and features of a head.

With her beloved adopted children cared for, the Child turned towards Saber. The blonde was just shaking off the blow she’d taken, getting back to her feet and pulling her sword into her hands. She faced the Child without the hint of fear in her eyes. The Child thought that was admirable, but pointless. She proved as such as she moved in to attack, using her speed and reach to avoid Saber’s strikes. She let the woman tire herself out. It took time and patience to wear down Saber’s stamina, but eventually the Child saw openings in her defenses. She made Saber pay for those openings with pain, darting in and landing blows to her well-toned muscles that left her skin bruised.

When the Child grew tired of playing with her toy, she put an abrupt end to the mockery of a fight. Surging forward, she brought her lower, spider-like limbs around, punching their tapered tips through the sides of Saber’s abdomen. The blonde let loose with a shriek, sword fumbling from her tired hands as the pain cut through her. The Child grinned, sinking her limbs deeper into the woman’s hot guts and hoisting her into the air. She pulled Saber closer, staring into her pain-racked face and feeling a flutter in her cock. Saber kicked out at the massive creature, knocking against the Child’s upper thighs. She swung her fists, nailing her across her toned abs and along the lower pair of her multiple breasts.

As the zombie attack had gone sideways and the massive monster had shown up, Bulma had been grateful that it hadn’t seemed to notice her. As the thing had birthed out the grotesque worm-things, her fear had only grown, but a strange thing had happened. She found herself moving, and not in an attempt to escape back into the relative safety of the bunker. Flicking her wielding torch off, she crouched in front of it, knowing that she would have to make some changes to the mechanism in order to create an effective weapon that might just save both herself and Saber. Her hands worked quickly, terrified adrenaline pushing her into a dizzying state of tunnel vision. When she finished, she had a makeshift flamethrower that she hoped would be enough to complete the daunting task that had been forced upon her.

“Hey, ugly!” Bulma yelled, rising to her feet and aiming the nozzle at the twenty-foot monstrosity before her. Her knees went weak as the thing turned away from Saber’s fallen form to face her. She got her first good look at Kerrigan’s Child and regretted her decision not to run. But now it had gone too far. She had to try. Against all sense of self-preservation, she took a step closer to the thing, not wanting the range of her weapon to come up short in her ultimate time of need. Her fingers found the trigger for the torch and she muttered a half-whispered plea that her crazy plan would work.

Bulma squeezed the trigger and was greeted with an angry hiss from the cobbled together weapon she’d made. Her brow furrowed and she looked down at it, hoping she could fix whatever was wrong with the flamethrower before the monster tore her apart. She had just enough time to spot the loose strip of duct tape wrapped around the length of hose she’d spliced into the larger gas tank she’d brought with her. As she let up off the trigger and reached for the tap, a short in the torch’s wiring gave off a single spark. The leaking gas ignited, sending a fireball into Bulma’s face that scorched away the majority of her face just before the weapon exploded in her hands, ripping her arms away and engulfing the upper half of her body in flames.

As Bulma’s burning body collapsed to the ground, horrendous screams fading fast as the fire melted her flesh and scorched her lungs, the regenerated forms of Rebecca, Zelda, and Psylocke turned their attention to the woman that had dismembered them. Saber clutched at the wounds in her sides, panting heavily and blinking sweat and grit from her eyes. She tried to fight off the trio as they dropped over her, but the blood draining out of her so rapidly had weakened her muscles. Her eyes flicked to Bulma’s corpse, grateful that the woman had at least tried to save her. That gratitude faded as she looked beyond the smoking husk to the damage the explosion had caused to the hatch. In a single fiery burst, Bulma had not only undone all the repair work she’d managed, but compromised the integrity of the threshold even more.

Saber was distracted from her concern for the other survivors as Psylocke’s teeth crunched into her elbow. The pain of teeth tearing through her skin and grating across bone caused her hand to jerk awkwardly. She brought her other arm around, slamming her fist into Psylocke’s head. The zombified mutant only seemed to enjoy the blows, her pasty flesh barely bruising from the impacts due to the cock-worm’s toughening of her body. She gripped Saber’s wrist and upper arm, bending her arm against her partially chewed elbow until it gave way with a sharp snap. Saber shrieked, watching in horror as Psylocke resumed her meal, chewing into the softer tissue along the inner fold of her arm.

Zelda dropped over Saber’s flailing legs, pinning them to the ground. The corrupted princess drove her hands into the gaping wounds at the woman’s sides, sinking her fingers through meat and into intestines. She pried out lengths of innards from Saber’s sides and brought them to her face to chew through, leaving her face smeared with glistening streaks of crimson. Her hunger grew stronger, encouraging her to drop down over Saber and start chewing her way through the woman’s toned belly. Skin stretched and tore, opening up an even larger wound across Saber’s midsection so that Zelda could plunge her face inside and really start to eat her way through the woman.

Saber screamed through clenched teeth, catching movement to her side. Rebecca leaned over her, the faint scar of her ineffective decapitation stretching around her throat. The zombified medic gave Saber a grotesque grin, made all the more disturbing with her bottom lip torn away. Rebecca stretched her jaw open and lowered her head to the crook of Saber’s neck, biting deeply into the tissue and tendons. She twisted her head from side to side before pulling back with a healthy chunk of Saber’s neck. Chewing messily, Rebecca swallowed and then went back for more, this time closing her teeth around Saber’s esophagus. The blonde’s screams became wet sputters as the medic ripped her windpipe open.

The trio of zombie women filled their undead bellies with Saber’s flesh and organs, but they ate through her with specific intent. First her arm came away, the same arm she’d cut away from Psylocke. When Zelda had finished hollowing out the majority of Saber’s belly, she drove her bloodied hands into the gory pit and gripped her spinal column. She tugged and twisted at the length of bone until it snapped, allowing her to yank Saber’s lower half away from the rest of her body. Rebecca bit and tore with ferocious tenacity, not wanting her victim to expire before she suffered the final act of payback. She succeeded, managing to chew Saber’s head off just before the life in the woman’s eyes faded away into nothingness.

Kerrigan’s Child smiled upon her three children. The worms she’d given them would not save them from a more permanent death, but they would be much more difficult to kill. They’d also been granted a higher level of intellect. In the ongoing war to exterminate all natural life, she would need beings such as them. Generals to command her forces. She allowed them to finish their meal before giving them their first orders. Psylocke was sent to the entrance where Mikasa had died to lead a punishing frontal assault. Zelda was tasked with infiltrating the hidden entrance Anna had used in a stealthy manner. Rebecca remained with the Child at the damaged entrance to lead a second assault that would take the survivors by surprise from behind. With the infested form of Daenerys Targaryen lurking within the bunker, there would be nowhere the survivors could go that would be without peril.


Chapter Thirty-One: Korra

The Guts weren’t fond of waiting, especially with a brand-new body to take advantage of, but as wild as they were, they knew better than to disobey Kerrigan’s Child. They spent the down time getting used to controlling Daenerys fully, moving her arms and legs and striking a variety of poses and expressions. They could only approximate her behavior, having little to draw from, but by the time the knock at the door came, they were confident they could maintain the façade of life long enough to deal with whoever had decided to visit the young blonde. Striding smoothly across the small bunk, Daenerys pulled open the hatch with an inquisitive look on her face.

Korra offered Daenerys an apologetic smile. “Hey, sorry for bothering you this late,” she said. “I just… I didn’t feel okay being alone right now. Can I come in and stay with you for a while?”

“Of course,” Daenerys replied with a smile. Korra failed to notice the hungry glint in her eyes as she took in her exotic beauty. She stepped back to allow Korra into the bunk, closing the hatch behind her. She twisted the lock into place, turning to the young woman. “Can never be too careful,” she explained. “Even in here.”

Korra nodded. “I know what you mean.” She looked for someplace to sit and found the only reasonable spot was the bed. She sat down on the edge of it, letting out a tired sigh. “I’m starting to think it might be safer outside.”

Daenerys joined her on the bed, sitting close enough that she could grab the girl if her subterfuge failed. “Really?” she asked. “You’re not scared of the monsters out there?”

“The monsters in here scare me worse,” Korra told her. “I know we’re desperate, but I think we’re being a little too blind to the sorts of people we’re letting in. Bathory…” She shook her head and suppressed a shudder of revulsion. “Well, you know. As many run ins as you’ve had with her.”

Daenerys nodded, agreeing but not bothering to elaborate since she didn’t have those memories.

“I know she’s the only doctor we’ve found, but I don’t trust her,” Korra continued. “I think she has something to do with the people who’ve gone missing. I know you and the other commanders told us they most likely snuck out and got themselves killed, but I talked to Makoto before she disappeared. She was terrified of the things outside. She’d never have gone back out there on her own.”

Daenerys floundered for a response. “I really don’t know,” she finally said. She knew nothing of the cover story the command structure had given to explain the delivery of test subjects to Bathory. As a result, her feigned ignorance came across as quite genuine. “But I agree about Bathory,” she added, using the information she’d gleaned from Korra to maintain her authenticity.

Korra looked up at the blonde, a flicker of worry in her eyes. “I trust you, Dany,” she said firmly. “And Elsa. I’m not so sure about Emily or Satsuki. Azula seems to be just as bad as Bathory. I don’t know how much sway you have with them, but maybe…” She sighed. “I don’t know, maybe you and Elsa could find some way of swaying the survivors into changing up the leadership around here. Or maybe we should put together a small group of people we know we can trust and take over. I just don’t know how much longer we’re going to make it down here unless we change things.”

The conversation had shifted dangerously for Daenerys. The idle talk of possible mutiny didn’t bother her, but the cascade of unknown names did. She couldn’t afford to let the chat continue without serious risk of giving away her deadly secret. She didn’t know what her relationship with Korra was, but the woman had come to her door in the middle of the night asking for council and companionship. Even if they weren’t romantically involved, that seemed to indicate some degree of intimacy between them. Without provocation, Daenerys leaned over and planted her lips against Korra’s, kissing her gently. Either the gambit would work and she’d get to enjoy the young woman’s body for a little while or it would fail and Korra would hopefully be embarrassed enough that she would leave. Regardless, she would no longer have to continue the conversation.

The kiss caught Korra off guard. Daenerys was probably the most strikingly beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Her gentle but firm nature had inspired a bit of a crush, but she’d never expected it to amount to anything. She didn’t let her shock keep her frozen for long, parting her lips to let the kiss deepen. With danger surrounding them, a carnal distraction seemed perfect to her. She wrestled her tongue against Daenerys’s, pressing closer to her. Their breasts pressed against each other, breathless moans passing between them. Bringing her hands up, she pushed open the robe Daenerys wore, her fingers tingling as they slid over the smooth mounds of her full breasts.

More than happy to move things along, Daenerys shrugged out of her robe and tossed it aside. She helped Korra get out of her clothes, leaving them both stripped bare. They resumed making out, Daenerys using every ounce of self-control she had to keep the hungry intestines inside her from stretching out and taking a nibble of the sexy young thing. She shoved Korra away, down to the bed. Korra let out a laugh, eyes lighting up with excitement as she allowed Daenerys to dominate her. Daenerys climbed over her, straddling Korra’s head and lowering her crotch down to the young woman’s face.

The musky aroma of Daenerys’s arousal flooded Korra’s nostrils, inspiring her to lift her head and bury her mouth against her smooth folds. Wispy blonde pubic hair tickled her chin as she delved her tongue deep into the warm slit. She moaned against Daenerys’s sex as she felt lips kiss across her own sex. She bent her knees and pushed her hips up, grinding her crotch against Daenerys’s face. She hooked her hands around the blonde’s legs to grip her plump ass, kneading the flesh as she wiggled her tongue down to her clitoris. The pleasure streaking up from her loins was the best distraction she could ask for from the hell of her existence in the Necropolis. She closed her eyes and did her best to reciprocate the pleasure, wanting the sex to go on forever so she didn’t have to deal with the problems surrounding her.

Daenerys slurped at the juices dribbling from Korra’s cunt. She sucked at Korra’s clit, enjoying the pleasant vibrations of the young woman’s moans against her snatch. The Guts may not have had quite as direct a connection with Daenerys’s skin as she had, but they’d integrated themselves with her nervous system efficiently enough to enjoy the sensations. But it took the silent, psychic command from Kerrigan’s Child to bring Daenerys to a proper climax. The attack was starting. Which meant Korra wasn’t just a sexy slab of flesh to pass a little time with anymore. She was a delightfully unsuspecting target. A shudder rolled through Daenerys’s body – easily mistaken for orgasmic tremors – as the Guts grew excited and prepared to strike.

Being on top of Korra already gave Daenerys a position of power. It was easy for her to take hold of the woman’s thighs and shove downwards, pinning her legs to the bed. The forcefulness could be explained by a progression in the intensity of their lovemaking, leaving Korra completely unaware of the danger resting just above her. Her arms proved a trickier thing to pin. She lifted one leg at a time, adjusting her position so that she could press down against Korra’s upper arms. She felt the girl gasp against her pussy as she pushed her arms down, forcing her hands away from her buttocks. She held the young woman in place with enough strength to leave her almost fully immobilized.

Korra sensed something was off just a little too late to save herself. The taste of Daenerys’s cunt honey grew pungent, flavors of bile and blood leaking from her snatch. The inner walls pulsed and shifted, but unlike anything a normal human being should have been capable of. Korra tried to pull her tongue free of the treacherous hole only to have rows of jagged fangs clamp down around the slimy length of muscle. She screamed into Daenerys’s crotch, blood flowing down her throat as the length of intestine sliding out of her pussy chewed through her tongue. She yanked her head back as far as she could, futilely attempting to throw Daenerys off of her. The tendril of tripe whipped before her, slapping against her cheeks before crunching into her nose.

While Korra’s tongue was chewed and swallowed, Daenerys’s pressed flat against the bottom of her mouth. Her jaw stretched open, allowing two more squirming lengths of intestine to come surging up her throat. Korra coughed blood across Daenerys’s cunt as those tendrils plunged into her sex. They stretched her walls, fucking her with brutal strokes until they got deep enough to chew through her cervix and plunge into her uterus. Her belly expanded as the intestines ripped further through the young woman, tearing apart their unzombified counterparts. Her asshole twitched before being forced to shit out bloody chunks of partially devoured viscera, staining the sheets beneath her.

The intestine attacking Korra’s face pulled back once it managed to chew off the woman’s nose. It punched forward, cracking into her sinuses and twisting to shove down her throat. Keeping her pinned to the bed was no longer necessary. The Guts were too deeply entrenched in Korra’s body for her to provide any threat. Daenerys’s hips rose and full, fucking the fleshy length of intestine deeper down Korra’s gullet. The two lengths of gut fucking her widely stretched pussy snapped her ribs away and crunched through them. Her chest cavity flattened under Daenerys’s weight. The young woman’s arms flailed and slapped at the infested woman, in too much agony to call forth her bending powers.

The Guts began a tug of war within Korra’s body, ripping through her back and looping around her spine. Fucked from both ends, filled with zombified innards, Korra’s final moments of life were spent in excruciating pain as she was ripped in half beneath Daenerys. Her legs fell limp as her lower half was tugged down far enough for Daenerys to pull the intestines free from her cunt and focus on chewing her way through the messy slop of viscera that had spilled out of her. The length of gut shoved down Korra’s throat looped around to sink its hungry fangs into her perky breasts, chewing them into tattered skin and slops of fat.

The Guts satiated themselves with Korra’s meat, leaving little more than a bloody smear and chewed bones behind. Rolling off of the bed, Daenerys sat up, the Guts slithering back into her body. She released a dainty burp before looking back at what little was left of her lover. “You tasted wonderful, my dear,” she remarked with a wicked smirk. “I guess you don’t have to worry about who to trust anymore.” With the attack underway, the Guts weren’t sure how much they needed their disguise, but they weren’t about to give up such a delightful skin suit. Korra had mentioned others in the command structure. Daenerys was in a perfect position to eliminate them.

Looking down at the bloodied state of her body, Daenerys sighed. “Looks like someone needs another bath.”


Chapter Thirty-Two: Elizabeth Turner

When Saber had been reassigned to the damaged entrance of the bunker, Elizabeth Turner had been tasked with taking her place. The moment the first of the scavenger party returned with news of Hell Flyers, she acted. She barked orders to the survivors around her, organizing them so they could get the scavenger party to safety and prepare for whatever assault was waiting for them outside. Mikasa could handle herself, but if Hell Flyers were on them, there was no telling what else might be following behind. As soon as the last of the scavenging party got in the bunker, Elizabeth unsheathed her cutlass and drew her pistol before sliding into the narrow passage.

Elizabeth feared what a full assault would entail. The bunker was sturdy, but with no way of knowing how many monsters lay outside, there was no guarantee it could withstand a major attack. Dealing with it before it became a serious problem was a necessity. Her fear was for the others more than herself. Personally, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt such excitement. She’d spent far too long sitting on her ass. Every attempt she’d made to convince the council of leaders to take a more proactive approach to the threat outside had been promptly smacked down in favor of focusing on defending themselves. Perhaps if she could beat back an attack, they’d have second thoughts.

Exiting the bunker, Elizabeth’s stomach churned as she spotted Mikasa. She hadn’t known the woman very well, but she was certain that no one deserved what had been done to her. The Hell Flyers using her as a macabre perch were still stuffing her holes with their unholy cocks. Thick lines of their cum drizzled from her corpse, splattering over the asphalt below. The Hell Flyer balls deep in Mikasa’s stretched asshole spotted her and let out a screech to its fellow demons. The three others perched on the body took flight, leaving the anal violator behind while it continued to pleasure itself with Mikasa’s rear.

Elizabeth raised her pistol and took aim at the first Hell Flyer coming towards her. She lined the sights up with its face and squeezed the trigger. She nailed it in its face, spraying its brains out the back of its head. The creature flipped backwards and flopped to the ground, wings stuttering through its death twitches as its flaccid member smacked up against its thin belly. The second Hell Flyer swooped in from the side, slashing its claws at Elizabeth’s face. She ducked beneath the strike, spinning and raising her cutlass to cleave through the thing’s wing. With only one wing, it fell to the ground, screaming and snarling at Elizabeth. She stepped forward and jabbed her sword into its throat, opening up its jugular and sending its blood gushing into the air.

Spinning to where Mikasa’s corpse dangled, Elizabeth prepared to deal with the final Flyer. It let out a squawk and promptly pried its prick free from the dead woman’s ass, flinging flecks of jizz into the air. Its wings flapped rapidly, taking it into the air in time to avoid Elizabeth’s shot. It turned and took off down the road. Elizabeth wasn’t about to let it get away. Vengeance for Mikasa was reason enough, but beyond that, she wanted to show the others that these things could be killed, could be defeated. She took off after the Hell Flyer, her eyes fixed on it, not wanting to let it get out of her line of sight.

The Hell Flyer reached an intersection and cut left, swooping away. Elizabeth charged ahead and turned the corner. Her boots skidded against the asphalt as she brought herself to an abrupt halt, suddenly facing a wall of undead monstrosities. Her bold bravado vanished in an instant as she took in the dozens of hungry faces leering back at her. The Hell Flyer stopped its retreat and did a flip to face her, letting out a mocking cackle. The attack was massive, far larger than anything she could handle on her own. At a glance, she knew they weren’t prepared nearly enough to withstand it. They needed everyone. Spinning around, Elizabeth rushed back the way she’d come, urgently needing to warn the other survivors of what was bearing down on them.

Elizabeth pumped her legs as hard as she could, desperate to stay ahead of the oncoming horde. She could see a handful of survivors had made it out of the bunker. One was trying to pull Mikasa’s body down from where it hung, finding the task difficult. Elizabeth knew there were far more important things to deal with at the moment. “They’re coming!” she yelled to them, waving a hand to gain their attention. “We need more people out here! Anyone who can fight! Go now!” They looked her way, confused. Their confusion turned to horror as they looked beyond her to what was following her down the road. One of them pointed a finger just past her, crying out a warning that came just a little too late.

Pain speared through Elizabeth’s right shoulder, sending her pistol flying from her fingers and skidding onto the sidewalk. She gasped, looking at the spike of hardened gel emerging from her body. The gel softened and expanded outside the wound, bringing her to an abrupt stop. She brought her hands up, trying to snap through the gel-spear and free herself. When that didn’t work, she extended her arms outwards, fear painted across her face as she stared at the handful of onlookers before her. “H-help,” she managed to stammer out just before the spear yanked her backwards, pulled off her feet by a force to great to resist.

Elizabeth’s airborne arch ended with a sticky splat. The gelatinous blob thing had been clear when it had been born – and a good deal smaller. Now it was nearly the size of a full-grown elephant and its translucency was tinged a pinkish hue. Elizabeth tried to pull herself free from the thing, but its outer layer clung to her, holding fast. The more she struggled, the more it seemed to suck her in, creeping over her skin and clothes. She screamed for help, watching as more survivors exited the bunker, but she couldn’t think of any suggestions for how they might rescue her. She could only hope that one of them was cleverer than she was.

Ripples ran across the blob’s surface around Elizabeth. With each tiny wave, her body was pulled further inside. The deeper she sank, the less movement she was capable of. Her arms dipped below the surface along with the lower halves of her legs. Panic rushed through her as she felt the tingling coldness of the slime oozing over her cheeks. She panted heavily, tears in her eyes. Her hair became soggy with the pink sludge. It slid around her belly and pulled her inwards faster. Elizabeth sucked in a deep lungful of air just before the blob encompassed her face. She held onto the oxygen, hoping the others would find a way to get her out before it grew too stale to keep her alive.

Elizabeth quickly discovered that drowning in the gel was not her primary concern. Once she’d been pulled fully into the blob, movement came easier. She floated within the thick liquid, but she couldn’t push her way through the surface. Her eyes stung, but she couldn’t bring herself to close them as she watched her soggy clothing slosh off around her. Her panic worsened, allowing a few bubbles of precious oxygen to slip past her lips as she watched the fabric disintegrate away into nothingness. It wasn’t long before she was fully nude, suspended within the blob, staring out at a world tinted pink. Her chest ached, but she kept her mouth closed.

With her flash laid bare, the blob gave Elizabeth a perverse style of hug. She clenched her jaw, face constricting with discomfort and disgust. The cool gel pushed into every opening she had. It flowed into her cunt and squirted into her asshole. It pushed into her ears and up her nostrils. It clogged her urethra with it. She could feel it pressing against her lips, but she kept them sealed. Her head throbbed from the pressure of the gel fucking her head. Her loins tingled with far too much pleasure than she cared to admit. But most disconcerting was the pervasive tingle spreading across every inch of her the gel touched.

The tingling became burning. Elizabeth would have sobbed, but the gel was pushing in on her too tightly to allow her tears to escape her eyes. The burning became overwhelming. She screamed, expelling her bubbled oxygen into the gel and allowing the stuff to pour down her throat. She begged to drown, wanting a fast end to the agony radiating through her. Her skin peeled off in strips, floating into the gel before breaking down just like her clothes had. The gel around her body shifted from pink to red as her muscle tissue was left exposed. She gagged, watching as what remained of one nipple floated before her before fizzling away.

Chunks of muscle broke away from Elizabeth’s body. Her organs floated free before vanishing into basic nutrients for the blob to absorb. Her jaw stretched open, vacant sockets staring blankly as she was stripped of every scrap of meat from her bones. Her brain digested within her skull, snuffing out the lingering spark of tortured life left in her. The previously healthy young woman became a fleshless skeleton in the span of a couple of minutes. The ligaments holding her bones together dissolved next, allowing them to float freely within the glop. The reddish cloud surrounding her faded back to a muted pink as even her blood was broken down.

Fissures spread across Elizabeth’s skull before it split apart into several segments. Bubbling streams of white drifted away from the bones as the blob finished breaking down its latest meal. Her spinal column popped as vertebrae separated. Her rib cage exploded into a cloud of soggy bone dust. The blob fucked its way through the holes in Elizabeth’s pelvic bone until it shattered. Arm and leg bones dissolved from either end, sizzling away. And then, aside from a few subtle white specks littered throughout the blob’s interior, Elizabeth Turner was gone, consumed completely and melted away into nutrition for the creature. Its size expanded slightly as it enjoyed its meal.

The group of survivors gathered outside the bunker had watched Elizabeth’s rapid demise in shocked horror. The blob was only one of many terrible fates crawling, shuffling, and slithering down the road towards them. Hiding was no longer an option. They had to fight. Some were readier for it than others, but that didn’t matter. Their options were between making a stand or embracing death. As far as they saw it, that wasn’t much of an option at all.


Chapter Thirty-Three: Queen Elsa

Elsa’s role within the bunker’s command structure was a certainty, although she wouldn’t have blamed someone for not being able to tell. She was certain she only had a single friendly ear on the council in the form of Daenerys. She would have assumed it was due to their shared youth, but Emily wasn’t any older than they were, but her words were still regarded with more respect. She did admit that with her abilities she proved more valuable in a support capacity, but it wasn’t as if she were a stranger to ruling. The bunker was a far stranger kingdom than Arendel, but she knew how to care for people. She would simply have to be firmer in her proposals in the future, once they’d gotten through the crisis at hand.

Reports from the main hatch were bad. If the number of monsters gathering there were even remotely accurate, it would be a devastating battle. The repairs on the breached hatchway at the opposite end of the base were important, but defending the bunker was the highest priority. Elsa could use her gift to keep the damaged hatchway frozen shut so that Saber could use her own skills in the battle. Elsa hurried down the hall towards the breached hatch, not seeing many other survivors on her way. Most everyone was already gathered at the main entry, prepping for the fight.

The Seamstress was a special breed of hell gestated in the womb of Sarah Kerrigan. An unholy combination of woman, spider, and python. Six thin arms attached to the upper body of a female human being that fused seamlessly into the body of a snake. She was capable of spinning web stronger than steel and possessed an ability to cloak herself from the casual observer. She’d slithered in through Anna’s hidden hatch, tasked with infiltration and assassination from within the bunker. Elsa – in her haste to get to the breached hatch – took no notice of the shimmering air as she approached the lurking predator. When she got within range, the Seamstress struck, snatching Elsa up in her six arms and coiling her lower half around her legs. Before the woman had a chance to transform her attacker into a frozen sculpture, the cloak dropped, revealing the pale green face and wide mouth of the Seamstress. Her jaw stretched open, spraying a mist into Elsa’s face, leaving her dazed and on the cusp of passing out.

Lowering Elsa to the floor, the Seamstress rolled her over and pulled her arms back. Pulling her hands together, the Seamstress weaved out a length of thread to loop around Elsa’s arms. She bound the limbs tightly, enough to cut off circulation. When the thread dried it became an unbreakable seal. Elsa groaned, shifting in her dazed state. Her eyes drifted lazily, lids struggling to stay open. The Seamstress rolled her onto her back, leaning her face in close to the blonde. Elsa tensed, her fear spiking as she stared up at the gruesome visage looming over her. A slithering snake tongue extended from the Seamstress’s mouth, flicking across Elsa’s face, tasting her terror.

The Seamstress weaved another thread. Her many arms gathered it up, securing it to a bundle of wires and pipes running along the ceiling before looping it around Elsa’s throat. Her disoriented groans transformed into gagging as the thread cinched tight against her neck. Her windpipe squeezed mostly shut as her body was lifted into the air by the thread, left hanging in the hallway. Her legs kicked out weakly, eyes blinking slowly as the effects of the potent drug wore off in wake of the very real threat of asphyxiation. Elsa’s lips spread, wheezing shallow breaths into her lungs. Her legs stretched out, shifting back and forth in a futile attempt to find something solid to stand on.

Six bony hands converged on Elsa’s weakly struggling form. The sound of tearing fabric pulled her fully from her daze, snapping fully conscious as her dress was ripped open to expose her pale flesh. The pain of the thread digging into her throat cut through her and her struggles intensified. She tried to bring her arms around to pull at the thread, but they were woven too tightly together to allow her any movement. She gagged, saliva spraying from her lips as she swayed at the end of her organic noose, horrified as the Seamstress’s hands felt across her body, squeezing her breasts, teasing her cunt, rubbing her thighs. The Seamstress pulled Elsa’s legs apart, leaning her head down to slide her snake-like tongue through her sensitive folds.

The Seamstress slithered back up in front of Elsa. A cloaca just below her belly split open, allowing a thin, slimy cock to slide free. The lower pair of hands grabbed hold of Elsa’s thighs, pulling them apart to create a clear target. Pulling her flailing form close, the Seamstress shoved her cock into her clenching orifice. She flicked her tongue across the young woman’s breasts, teasing her nipples into hard nubs. The middle pair of hands looped around Elsa, grabbing at her ass, while the top pair massaged the woman’s tits. Her thrusts were steady, like the ebb and flow of the tide. Elsa’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, along with the growing asphyxiation she endured.

Elsa didn’t understand the nightmare creature before her, or how it had gotten inside the bunker. The implications were bad. Even worse if she couldn’t find a way to break free and warn the others of this new danger. She didn’t want to die, but more than that, she didn’t want her failure to cost the lives of others. She tried to freeze her way through the bindings holding her arms behind her back, but the thread was too strong. It contained her frigid powers, withstanding the cold. She strained to gather as much of her power as she could, very nearly giving her own cold resistant skin frostbite, but the thread still wouldn’t freeze or give way.

A second cock emerged from the Seamstress’s cloaca just below the first. She pulled Elsa closer. The woman struggled to wrap her legs around the creature’s waist to hold herself up high enough to avoid hanging. She winced as the second cock pushed up her ass. The lower set of hands holding her legs shoved them aside. Her body slumped back onto the noose, her throat squeezing closed. The slithering members violating her inched deeper into her body, leaving her feeling filthy. She kicked against the Seamstress, twisting her shoulders from side to side. The creature hissed and drove into her harder.

Elsa’s fear inspired the Seamstress’s lust. She pounded forward into the young woman’s holes, watching her perky tits jump with each forceful impact. The middle hands groped her buttocks, spreading them apart before slapping them together against the sides of her second cock. Her tongue flicked out, wiping away chilly tears from Elsa’s cheeks as her face shifted into a reddish hue. Elsa’s tongue slid across her bottom lip, flinging drool down her chin. The Seamstress tugged her body downwards, causing the thread around her throat to crush her esophagus closed completely. Elsa’s body flailed frantically, gagging and gurgling with terrified urgency.

Elsa’s legs bent up and kicked out straight. Her thighs trembled, toes clenching and releasing. Urine drained along the snake-member plunging into her slippery cunt. Her lips smacked wetly, eyes rolling back as darkness crept into her vision. Her shoulders slumped, gurgles weakening as the asphyxiation forced her brain to shut down. The Seamstress hissed with delight, stretching her jaw open wide before Elsa’s purple face. She yanked the dangling young woman against her, enjoying the spastic tremors of her inner walls clenching around her twin pricks. Her pumps sped up as Elsa’s struggles drifted away. It would not be much longer before both of them reached a climax of sorts.

Cum gushed into Elsa’s body. She could feel its warmth in her loins as the pounding in her head worsened. It felt like her head was an overripe melon on the verge of bursting. Her chest hitched, heart beating erratically within her bosom. Shudders rolled through her, a terrible chill running through her. Unlike every other experience with the cold she had, this time it bothered her. She knew it wasn’t the type of cold she could control. She tried to stop it, but it only made her grow weaker. Her eyelids fluttered as she lost the struggle, legs dropping limply beneath her as she expired.

The Seamstress pulled out of Elsa’s holes, cum drizzling down the insides of her limp thighs. The limp members pulled back through the cloaca before it sealed back up. The creature released a hungry hiss, tongue dragging across Elsa’s slack, discolored face. The sharpened fingers on her arachnid hands were one of the few things capable of cutting through her thread. Reaching up, she cut through the line holding Elsa’s body aloft. The limp form collapsed into her embrace. She lowered Elsa to the floor, laying her out and enjoying a few final moments of feeling along her body. The Seamstress had no intention of leaving evidence of her strike behind.

Dropping low, the Seamstress’s jaw stretched open to create a glistening maw more than large enough to wrap her lips around the crown of Elsa’s head. Her vacant eyes disappeared into the Seamstress’s mouth, mouth closing around her bruised neck. The Seamstress’s jaw popped, unhinging to gap to a wider size so that she could wedge Elsa’s thin shoulders into her mouth. Her lips crept over Elsa’s breasts, the mounds mashing flat against her chest. Her feet dragged across the floor as the Seamstress gulped again and again, drawing her further and further into her body. Her tongue slid through the crack of Elsa’s ass, looping around to slobber through the cleft of her cunt. The Seamstress lifted her head back, using gravity to help her with her meal. Elsa’s legs dangled and flopped lifelessly as they were sucked down the creature’s gullet like two pieces of thick, fleshy spaghetti. As her feet disappeared from view, the Seamstress snapped her jaw back into place and closed her mouth, taking one last heavy swallow to draw the dead woman down into her stomach.

A distinctly human-shaped bulge travelled down the length of the Seamstress’s snake body. The assassin clenched her inner muscles around the lump, crushing Elsa’s bones and pulping her organs. By the time her carcass arrived at the Seamstress’s stomach, she was a mangled mess prepared for digestion. The creature released a pleased hiss, slithering her way back down the hall and into a shadowy corner. Her scaly skin shimmered, blending in with her surroundings. Elsa’s body would slow her down a little until she’d broken her body down into a smaller size, but she could still be quite deadly. The Seamstress lurked and enjoyed her meal, waiting for any other unfortunates to wander by.


Fun fact: If I can get to 50 total Patrons and maintain it into January, I'll be doing a bonus Holiday Special chapter for the CosplayBabes series. So if that sounds cool, head over to deathstalkerlives and chip in anything. We're currently 5 away from hitting 50. Anyway, enough about that nonsense. Enjoy this month's chapters!


Chapter Thirty-Four: Scout Party Alpha

The Blow Hunter crawled silently up the wall, his eyes fixed on the lithe woman crouched on the rooftop of the adjacent building. The creature had been far enough away from the bunker that he'd not been summoned to the assault, instead remaining as one of the few creatures in the Necropolis left to patrol the streets and seek out any fresh prey that arrived. Judging from her attire and armaments, the woman was no newcomer, but she still lived an untainted life. That alone was enough to mark her for death. The Blow Hunter was eager to stuff his appendages into her slender frame, eager to experience his species' singular climax before giving his life to kill another. The woman was a fair distance away, but not out of his range. Climbing as high as he could, the Blow Hunter prepared to launch himself down onto the unsuspecting woman.

The Blow Hunter jumped, ready to fuck himself to oblivion. About midway through his arcing leap, automatic gunfire rang out. The creature's body shuddered as numerous impacts caused him to miss his target and hit the rooftop with a meaty thud, blood and ooze pouring from a dozen wounds. The Blow Hunter made an attempt to crawl his way to the woman he'd intended on fucking and killing, but another burst of gunfire obliterated his head and put him down for good. Stepping out from behind the bulky air conditioning unit she'd been using for cover, Kay-Em 14 kept her sub-machine gun leveled on the Blow Hunter as she approached the thing, confirming that the target had been dispatched. “Clear,” she called over to Alice Abernathy, still perched on the edge of the rooftop.

Alice rose to her feet and turned to see just how close the Blow Hunter had gotten to her. She sighed. “Have I mentioned lately how much I hate being bait?” she asked.

Kay-Em 14 tilted her head, a curious look on her face as her cybernetic brain calculated the numbers. “It really depends on how you define 'lately', but you last mentioned it roughly sixteen hours ago.”

“That pack of Hell Hounds,” Alice remembered.

Kay-Em nodded. “I did warn you that there was an eighty-nine percent chance of you getting messy during that encounter.”

“Messy, shit,” Alice groaned. “I'm still picking pieces of their skin out of my hair.” She stepped back to the edge of the rooftop and looked down to where the rest of her squad was waiting for her below. “We got the bastard. We'll be down in a minute.”

In the alley below, Homura Akemi and Fuuka Yamagishi poked their heads out from their hiding places. Homura was far from defenseless, but Fuuka more or less was. Fuuka's lack of combat expertise was exactly why Alice had assigned Homura to defend her. What the young woman lacked in killing power she more than made up for with her other inherent skills; specifically detecting the presence and location of the creatures lurking within the Necropolis. Alice and Kay-Em made their way down the fire escape and into the alley. Alice's movements were fluid and smooth, while the androids were more stiff, but just as efficient. The race to the ground wasn't explicitly stated, but the two had been testing each other's abilities since Kay-Em had been assigned to Alice's scouting squad. The android didn't have much experience in the way of competitiveness, but she did like a good game, even if she ultimately had no interest in winning.

“We good?” Alice asked Fuuka.

Fuuka closed her eyes, stretching out with whatever mystical power she possessed that allowed her to sense other life forms. The group remained silent, everyone looking at her, for several long moments. Finally, she opened her eyes and gave Alice a nod. “We're clear.”

“Alright, let's head out,” Alice said. “We've got a ways to go before we can bunk down for the night.”

The team made their way out of the alley and back onto the main road. Staying out in the open as a risk, but based on Alice's experience, going through the buildings was worse. There were plenty of zombies roaming the streets, as well as plenty of other monstrosities, but every building she'd ventured into had been a cramped series of death traps filled with creatures that rarely ventured outside. Plus, with the power off in the majority of the Necropolis, the darkness inside the buildings made it harder to spot potential threats, even with Fuuka's ability. The streets were less inconspicuous, but they at least gave them space to maneuver. A vehicle would have been nice, but the roads were so clogged with obstacles that using one would have been nearly impossible.

Alice looked over her team. They were a weirdly mixed bunch, but they'd been grouped together long enough that they'd worked out a smoothness to their coordinated actions. There'd been a lot of close calls. Some of them too close. They'd been a five-person unit at the start. Alice's nightmares were still filled with the screams of Kaiden Alenko as he'd had his ass stuffed full of a Hell Hound's cock. The sight of his back being shredded by the beast's teeth until Kay-Em had put a round in his skull to end his pain. But even death hadn't saved him from the Hell Hound continuing to defile and devour him. Alice had made a vow to herself to do everything she could to keep any more of her crew from suffering a similar fate. It was the whole reason she consistently volunteered to be bait.

Alice was no stranger to fighting the undead, but she'd seen enough of the Necropolis to know that Umbrella had nothing to do with what was happening. The random assortment of survivors she'd seen made no logical sense. Kay-Em 14 was a good example, a humanoid android who'd apparently come from 25th century, but Homura was even more baffling. She looked like a thirteen-year-old girl, but she possessed the experience and maturity of a much older woman. She had a proficiency with all manner of weaponry and possessed a shield capable of holding an arsenal of weaponry and supplies. Apparently, it could also manipulate time, but for some reason, that feature seemed to have been broken or deactivated when she’d been plucked into the Necropolis. It seemed implausible, but after all Alice had seen, she was willing to buy it. And then there was Fuuka. The young, blue-haired woman was certainly the oddest one in their group. Her ability to fight the horrors they faced was extremely limited, but her inherent power to sense the creatures made her perfect for their prolonged survival as well as the successful completion of their mission.

Scout Party Alpha had been one of the few proactive policies the bunker's leaders had set into motion. They'd been tasked with finding out just how far the Necropolis stretched and – more importantly – if there was a way out of the corruption. They'd been out in the shit for several weeks. Progress was slow, even slower after they'd lost Kaiden because Alice had doubled down on safety, but even so, they'd seen enough of the hellish city to know it was massive, far larger than any city Alice had ever seen before. But it didn't go on forever. They'd fought their way through a skyscraper to get a lay of the land and, upon reaching the top, had been able to see a large body of water to the east. If they could make it there, find a dock, a boat big enough to hold all the survivors in the bunker, they might be able to leave the Necropolis behind. She had no idea if the corruption had infested the rest of the world they were on, but maybe they could find an island where there weren't enough monsters to be a threat.

Following Fuuka's guidance, the team made a far amount of progress before they decided to find a place to hunker down for the night. Aside from the Blow Hunter, they'd not come across much in the way of danger. Some areas of the Necropolis were infested worse than others, but even so, the lack of action didn't sit well with Alice. She thought about radioing in to the bunker to see if they had any information on the lack of creatures, but decided against it. The radio had a limited battery life. She'd been instructed to report in with only relevant information. Calling in to say it had been a surprisingly easy day of scouting wasn't relevant enough to justify the energy expense. And if the bunker had any info for them, they would have called in already. She could let them know about the lack of action when she called in for her daily report in the morning.

They found a relatively intact shop that would provide a decent means of safety for a few hours of sleep. Entering the place, Alice noticed it was a shoe store. Then she noticed the corpse draped over the counter. She'd seen plenty of gruesome brutality even before the Necropolis, but the young woman who'd met her end in the shoe store had suffered some particularly horrid abuse. The back of her head had been smashed up, probably by the blood-stained pipe lying just beneath her feet. With the dried blood covering her crotch and the insides of her thighs, Alice suspected the back of her head hadn't been the only area that had suffered an assault from the pipe. She worked with Kay-Em to pull the young woman's body off of the counter, carrying her over to a corner of the shop. The stench of decay wafting off of her body was bad, but she knew dumping her out onto the street would risk drawing in zombies. Homura found a stash of garbage bags behind the counter. They used them to wrap Heather Mason's corpse up like a plastic mummy. It helped with the smell.

Making their way into the backroom, Alice, Kay-Em, and Homura confirmed what Fuuka had already sensed. The shop was clear. Locking up the front of the shop, they closed the door leading to the backroom and barricaded it, putting two layers of defense between them and the outside world. The linger aroma of Heather's rot still permeated the air, even in the sealed backroom, but not so badly that it kept them from sleeping. After dealing with the Necropolis for so long, the smell of decay had become a near constant for them. Homura pulled supplies from her shield, a small dinner for them and their sleeping gear. They shared the meager meal, not saying much. Once they finished, Homura found herself a corner to unpack her bedroll. She slid into it and drifted off to sleep with relative ease. It took Fuuka a little longer to find the release of slumber. Alice could see the toll that constant fear was taking on the young woman. She'd have escorted her back to the relative safety of the bunker a week ago if not for the fact that they needed her skills. Kay-Em remained awake – or at least powered up – while the others prepared to sleep. She didn't require much downtime to recharge her internal batteries, making her a prime candidate for keeping watch. Satisfied that her team was as safe as they could be for the night, Alice stripped off her outer layer of clothing, hanging it up to hopefully air out some of the smell. Granted the panties and tank top she wore underneath weren't exactly fresh either.

The fatigue Alice felt struggled against her nerves. She knew she wouldn't be able to get to sleep until the rest of her team had gotten there. Laying in her bedroll with her hands clasped under her head, Alice looked up at the ceiling, thinking through all the choices she'd made, wondering if they'd been the right ones. She'd already gotten one of her team killed. Kay-Em kept insisting that Kaiden's death wasn't her fault, and she had the probability numbers to back it up, but all the numbers in the world couldn't shake the guilt Alice felt. And then there were all the survivors back in the bunker, counting on her whether they knew about her mission or not. She knew her team trusted her, despite Kaiden's death, but she wasn't sure she trusted herself. She was just about as worn out as Fuuka was. She hid it better, but the endless stream of trauma was weighing her down. Alice wasn't sure how much longer she had before she made a mistake that got them all killed.

It was shortly after Alice could hear Homura's soft snores and Fuuka's whimpering restless that Kay-Em made her way over to her bedroll. The sudden presence of the android standing over her didn't startle her. She was far too aware of her surroundings to let anything sneak up on her. Plus, she'd grown accustomed to the little routine she'd developed with the synthetic woman. She smiled, unable to keep the small flicker of amusement at bay as she watched Kay-Em tugging her clothing off. The fact that an android had sexual urges was about as baffling as anything else she'd found in the Necropolis. It was all the stranger because, aside from having a feminine figure, Kay-Em did not possess sexual organs. She didn't even have nipples, something she frequently complained about. And yet, despite her lack of anatomical correctness, Kay-Em had a particularly dirty mind, and was more than happy to dispense pleasure upon a willing lover. Alice wasn't typically attracted to women, but there was no denying that Kay-Em wasn't like any other woman she'd met, or man for that matter. They're not built with a vibration function, she thought, eyeing Kay-Em's smooth, perfectly sculpted – albeit nippleless – breasts.

“Ready to initiate Destress Protocol Omega, boss?” Kay-Em asked with a grin, placing her hands on her hips.

Alice laughed and tugged the android down to the floor with her, pressing her lips firmly against Kay-Em's as she squirmed halfway out of her bedroll. Her skin was cooler than a human being's, but still pleasantly soft. She tugged down the zipper on her bedroll, pulling it open to let the naked android slide in beside her. Their kiss broke as Kay-Em tugged her tank top up and over her head, tossing it aside. She lowered her head to Alice's chest, kissing along one small breast before sucking her thick nipple into her mouth. Alice hooked an arm around her, reaching down to squeeze her firm ass, soft skin layered over reinforced steel made for an interesting groping session. She groaned, struggling to keep her volume down, as Kay-Em closed her teeth around her nipple, applying careful, precise pressure that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her chest.

Kay-Em may not have been equipped with the typical equipment organic women possessed, but she still had sensors installed throughout her body. She could only approximate what pleasure was through observation and firsthand reports of the sensation, but she'd managed to self-install a sub-routine that she enjoyed quite a bit. Dialing up the sensitivity of her skin to nearly dangerous levels allowed every touch Alice gave her explode through her synthetic body. She groaned as Alice slid her long middle finger through the cleft between her buttocks, across the area where a natural human being would have possessed an orifice. She lifted her head from Alice's chest, working her lips into the crook of the woman's neck to nibble and suck at her skin while she slid a hand down the front of her panties. As much as Kay-Em enjoyed her pleasure sub-routine, she got the majority of her enjoyment from sexual encounters by satisfying her lover. She didn't like to brag, but she was quite good at that task.

Alice gasped as Kay-Em's index finger brushed through the thin strip of her pubic hair and touched against her clit. She clenched her jaw, suppressing a moan as the fingertip buzzed, sending a blast of ecstasy shooting up through her loins. Locked in a defunct shoe store with a dead girl's body wrapped in trash bags and hordes of monstrous creations lurking outside wasn't exactly the most romantic setting, but living on the cusp of violent death at all times lent itself well to random spurts of sexual frenzy. Alice's breathing quickened, sweat breaking out across her body. She buried her face against one of Kay-Em's smooth breasts, using the soft mound as a pillow to suppress her moans as the android slid her finger down from her aching clitoris and into the damp slit of her cunt. Alice squeezed her eyes shut tight, tears of restrained ecstasy creeping down her cheeks as she panted and whined into Kay-Em synthetic tit, grinding her hips forward against the vibrating finger as it curled to rub against her g-spot.

Kay-Em smirked, loving the way Alice writhed and clung to her. The feel of her hot breath against her breast stimulated her synthetic nerve endings and the way Alice's hand cupped her smooth crotch, rubbing against her, poking at her with her fingers, desperately searching for a hole to reciprocate some of the pleasure, had her pleasure sub-routine working overtime. Alice may have been in charge of the scouting party, but in that moment, Kay-Em possessed all of the power. She'd had sex with Alice enough times to know precisely how to manipulate her body to a satisfying climax. And her own orgasm was a simple as running a few lines of code through her synthetic brain. So it was no problem for the android to accomplish both tasks simultaneously. Wedging two fingers deep into Alice's slippery snatch, mashing her digits against her g-spot, while stretching her buzzing pinkie down to tickle against her asshole, Kay-Em triggered her leader's orgasm while activating her own. The two clung to each other, whimpering softly as they road out their mutual climaxes.

Still shuddering from the powerful orgasm, Alice lifted her face from Kay-Em's chest. “Jesus, you're good at that,” she panted.

Kay-Em grinned happily, sliding her sticky fingers free of Alice's pussy. She lifted the moist digits to her mouth and sucked them clean. She could taste Alice's juices on a molecular level, but the act did little for her. Still, her research had shown that a lover enjoyed watching the act, and ingesting foreign materials into her body caused no harm, so she was more than happy to do it. “You're not so bad yourself, boss,” she replied, sliding out of the bedroll. She stood, fully nude, a weird approximation of a female form getting dressed in the dark as if the passionate encounter had never happened. Alice lay back, catching her breath and watching the android.

“Thanks for helping me get to sleep, Kay-Em,” Alice said, feeling the fatigue winning out over the anxiety. She decided she could retrieve her tank top in the morning, settling into the bedroll and letting her eyes slip closed.

Kay-Em smiled, straightening out her clothes. “No problem, boss,” she said softly, turning to resume her watch duty.


Chapter Thirty-Five: Juliet Starling

Juliet Starling loved the feeling of her chainsaw rumbling in her hands almost as much as she loved the sound of its roar as she revved it up. The weapon had tasted plenty of zombie blood even before she'd been transported into the Necropolis and she'd been thankful she'd had a tight grip on her trusty undead slaying tool. Carving her way to the bunker had been easy and fun, but her beloved companion had sat mostly idle since then. The cheerleader-turned-zombie killer was well aware of the seriousness of the situation, but the way she figured, that didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun, too. With an excited yell, she cleaved her way through another undead bastard, leaving it in pieces at her feet. “Who's next?” she yelled, spinning to face the next adversary. “Come get some!”

Being towards the front of the defensive line, Juliet had plenty of targets to choose from. There was no shortage of zombies shuffling her way and she was more than happy to meet them halfway. She held her chainsaw in front of her, bracing the back of it against her slender belly and enjoying the way the engine's rumble radiated through her, creating a special tingle in her loins. That little tingle was the best kind of silver lining to wholesale slaughter of rotting creeps. As she carved her way through the next batch of zombies, she wished she could have fired the chainsaw up in the bunker, slide of her panties, and just grind on the safe end of it for a bit until that little tingle became a much bigger explosion. But just because she was proud to stride around in her skimpy cheerleading attire didn't mean she wanted to draw a whole crowd of survivors to her with the sound of her chainsaw buzzing alongside her orgasmic moans. Still, she thought. Once we finish killing these creeps, this girl needs to get laid hardcore.

The bestial growl and thudding of heavy paws drew Juliet away from her desires. She turned in time to see the massive Hell Hound Alpha charging towards her, deadly jaws stretched open wide and ready to chew through her body. Her libido went from distracted to dampened as she caught sight of the flopping corpse underneath the horse-sized monster's body. She didn't recognize the young woman, but the sight of her skewered from ass to mouth on the thing's massive prick made her want to hurl. Juliet darted out of the way of the charging Alpha, turning to face it. “That's no way to treat a lady, you jerk,” she yelled, pumping some more gas into her chainsaw. “You're gonna pay for that!”

The Alpha turned and barked at Juliet, his fiery eyes fixed on her. She noticed with rising disgust as the beast's cock filled back out, lifting the unfortunate dead woman higher against his belly. The blunt cock head shoved through the woman's mouth dribbled watery pre-cum onto the ground. He setting his paws, he darted towards Juliet again, eager to knock her to the ground and ravage her body, fuck her onto his cock and shove the young Lara Croft's corpse through her along with it. Juliet wasn't afraid of the creature, but she did recognize the danger he presented. The Alpha's size was daunting, and he was certainly faster than she would have liked, but she was faster, more agile. The sickening hitchhiker he was carrying with him and the beast's arousal worked against him as well. She danced around the beast as he tried to trample and tackle her to the ground, slashing out with her chainsaw as she could, leaving gouges across his thick hide.

Spotting an opening to cause some real – and much needed – damage to the Alpha, Juliet took it. She ran at the beast from the side, dropping low into a slide that took her right under the huge canine's belly. She lifted her chainsaw as she slid, the whirring blades connecting with the base of the hound's thick prick. She heard the Alpha's howl of agony even before she finished carving her way through his member. Clearing the other side of the beast, she heard the meaty thud of the huge cock – and the dead woman – hitting the ground. Hot blood gushed from the stump, spraying a crimson load over Lara Croft's dick-stuffed carcass. Rolling back to her feet, Juliet turned and grinned as she took in the damage she'd done. “This is Juliet Starling,” she chirped. “Reminding you to spay and neuter your pets.”

Now that the Alpha was in pain and pissed, his method of attack became even more sloppy. Juliet toyed with the thing for a little while longer, wanting to prolong his suffering after what it had done to the poor girl. She looked to be about the same age as she was. The thought of dying the way she had horrified her. “Who's afraid of the big-dicked wolf?”she yelled, leaping into the air and bringing the tip of her chainsaw down into the Alpha's face. “Not me, you bastard!” The creature whimpered like a bitch as she sawed her way through his skull. She kept a firm grip on her chainsaw, following the Alpha as he collapsed to the ground, burrowing the weapon deeper until the beast's brain was a mashed up mess. With a final series of shudders and a final spurt of blood from the base of his severed prick, the Alpha Hell Hound died.

The chainsaw stuttered, blades catching in the beast's thick skull. “Dammit, no!” Juliet whined as the weapon's engine cut out. She tugged, trying to dislodge it, but it was pretty well stuck. She kicked her foot against the Alpha's bloody head. “Stupid damn dog! Give it back!” She grabbed the chainsaw's cord and pulled it. The engine rumbled for a moment but refused to start. Planting one foot against the ground, she lifted her leg and propped her other foot into the Alpha's shoulder, pulling with all her strength. She gave the chainsaw a few jerks from side to side, trying to widen the gory slash she'd carved into the beast to loosen the blade. Juliet focused entirely on getting her precious weapon back, neglecting to keep track of her dangerous surroundings.

The sudden backhanded strike to the side of Juliet's head sent her flying back. Her ass hit the ground first, momentum carrying her over onto her shoulders. The hem of her short skirt fell across her waist, providing a nearby zombie pack a nice view of her panties. Her legs flopped back to the ground, leaving her groaning and rubbing her bruised jaw. She sat up, narrowed eyes fixing on the zombified woman who'd hit her. “Hey, lady, it's not nice to sucker punch people,” she growled. She flipped to her feet, clenching her fists as she prepared to face down Psylocke without her chainsaw. It's just one stupid zombie, she thought. It's not like they're that tough.

Psylocke examined Juliet's chainsaw. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and ripped it free of the beast's skull with one easy tug. Juliet's eyes widened. Alright, she thought. Tougher than the average dead head. Her surprise turned to annoyance as Psylocke looked over the chainsaw with dull-eyed curisoity. “Hey! That doesn't belong to you!” she yelled. “Give it back!” She gasped as Psylocke yanked the chainsaw's cord, firing up the engine and giving the blades a quick rev before turning to face the weapon's rightful owner. “You're a real bitch, you know that?” she called. Psylocke replied with another rev of the chainsaw's engine. “I guess I'm just gonna have to take it from you. You're gonna be sorry for that!”

Juliet sparred with Psylocke, doing her best to get in close enough to wrestle her chainsaw away. But her adversary was shockingly spry for a dead woman. She narrowly avoided feeling the teeth of her own weapon chew into her skin. Darting back from one of Psylocke's swipes, her back collided with another zombie. The thing's arms tried to wrap around her waist, but a quick elbow to the face sent him stumbling backwards. A quick glance confirmed that she'd been surrounded by the living dead. They'd created a circle around her and Psylocke. One that was growing ever smaller as they continued to shuffle inwards. The group was too thick to fight her way through bare handed. She needed her chainsaw back. Feeling a flicker of nervousness creep into her, Juliet did her best to retrieve the weapon, uncomfortably aware of her increasingly limited space to dodge.

Juliet hit the wall of zombies a second time. Instead of trying to grab her, the undead shoved her back towards Psylocke. The force of their combined might sent her stumbling, arms waving in an attempt to regain her balance. Psylocke moved in fast, taking advantage of her compromised position. Juliet watched with wide eyes as her chainsaw swung towards her. She watched the whirring teeth connect with her right arm, blood spraying from her limb as the chainsaw carved into her just as easily as it had carved into the countless zombies she'd put down. It took a moment for the pain to register, just as her forearm went flying from her body. Juliet released a high-pitched scream, staring in horror at the bloody stump of her right arm.

Psylocke didn't relent, dropping low and swinging the chainsaw again, this time catching against the side of Juliet's left leg, just above the knee. She pushed the weapon through the flesh of her thigh, coming out the other side and moving directly to her right leg. Juliet lost her balance all over again as her body toppled off of her severed legs. She hit the ground with a hard thud, continuing to scream. She stared up at Psylocke, tears in her panic-filled eyes as the zombie woman smiled cruelly at her. Taking her time, Psylocke guided the chainsaw down to Juliet's remaining arm, sawing through her shoulder and leaving her victim as a limbless head on a torso, howling out her agony.

Juliet was no longer a threat, but that didn't mean Psylocke was finished with her. Kerrigan's Child had been specific in her orders. Make the survivors suffer. Make each death a symphony of suffering, one that would crack through whatever morale the others had. She had every intention of obeying her mistress's orders. Licking some of Juliet's blood from her cheek, she gripped the chainsaw firmly and revved the engine. The sobbing blonde could do nothing to stop her as she crouched beside her and lowered the spinning blades into her slim belly. Juliet shrieked, head arching back and eyes clamping shut as fresh pain exploded through her gut. The chainsaw flung chunks of severed viscera into the air as Psylocke sank the weapon further through her. The sound shifted to a sharp grinding as the blades met Juliet's spine. Adding some force, Psylocke pushed the chainsaw the rest of the way through Juliet's midsection, carving the busty blonde cheerleader in half.

Juliet's sobs withered away into hyperventilating gasps for air as the shock of her wounds overtook the pain. She lifted her head, looking down at what was left of her body, the messy pile of innards where her perfectly slender belly had once been. With a whine of horror, she watched one of the zombies that had trapped her stumble forward and grab the lower portion of her body. He flipped her skirt up and ripped away her panties, exposing her sex. She'd been freshly waxed when she'd entered the Necropolis. Now there was a thin layer of dark stubble, revealing the answer every man she'd been with had asked – if she was a natural blonde. The zombie didn't care what her natural hair color was. He pulled her lower half against him and shoved it down onto his cock, plunging his way into her pussy. The lips were damp from the excitement of her battle and the piss she'd squirted as she'd been carved in half, making it easy for the undead man to sheath the full length of his member into her still warm cunt.

Staring at the lips of her pussy stretched around the zombie's rigid shaft, Juliet focused on the way her labial folds dipped inwards as he thrust into her and returned as he drew back. It was a hypnotizing sight, but one that only hammered home how cruel the world was. She'd been in need of a good fucking. Now she was getting it, but she couldn't even feel it. Adding insult to mortal injury, a Hell Flyer swooped in from the side. His wings beat rapidly as he hovered in front of the zombie violating her lower half. The creature's claws dug into the flawless cheeks of her perky ass and spread them apart. From her angle on the ground, Juliet had no trouble seeing the Hell Flyer's prick shove its way into her asshole. She tears stung her eyes as the familiar sound of her revving chainsaw distracted her from the macabre threeway her body was unwillingly taking part in.

“P-please,” Juliet stammered out as she looked up at Psylocke, a terror unlike any she'd experienced before washing over her as she realized she was about to die. She wasn't a fan of the living dead, but she didn't want to face the oblivion of death. “I... I can still be a good zombie, right? All you gotta do is put down the chainsaw and bite me. Please, just let me become one of you, okay?” She saw no hint of mercy in Psylocke's murky eyes. The undead woman simply guided the chainsaw down to Juliet's exposed throat. The fitful sobs came over her again, feeling the vibrations in the air against her skin. “Oh, man, please!” she begged. “I'm too pretty to die!”

Unbeknownst to Juliet, Psylocke did check in with Kerrigan's Child regarding turning her instead of killing her. The response had come back swiftly. After the damage she'd caused – an Alpha Hell Hound would not be easy to replace – and the damage she'd sustained, Juliet was next to worthless as a soldier of the undead, but she was a prime candidate for being made an example of. There was only the briefest of hesitations as the psychic communication took place, hardly long enough for Juliet to even notice. Then Psylocke lowered the chainsaw's whirring blades into her throat. Her mouth shot open, blood spraying from her severed neck and gushing from her lips. The young woman's eyes bulged as the final act of terrible pain was forced onto her. Grinning maliciously, Psylocke kept on carving until she finished cutting Juliet's head away from what little remained of her body.

Psylocke chucked the bloody chainsaw aside. Using the weapon to dismember the woman who'd been wielding it had been a fun bit of irony, but the weapon was too heavy and cumbersome to be truly effective in battle. Plus, it was prone to getting lodged in things, leaving the user absurdly undefended. She watched as another of the zombies shuffled forward and dropped over Juliet's torso, tugging down the neck of her top to let her plump tits spill free. The zombie drooled hungrily as he shoved his prick between the soft mounds, mashing them together around his erection. The flesh of Juliet's perky breasts jiggled as the zombie humped his way through her cleavage. The Hell Flyer stuffing her ass pumped a sticky load into what remained of her bowels before prying free of her gaping sphincter and returning to the battle. The zombie fucking her cunt mashed her crotch as far onto his member as he could before turning to return to the pack he'd emerged from.

Looking down to the young blonde's severed head, Psylocke stared into her glassy eyes. Feeling a hunger stirring in her gut, she reached down and picked up Juliet's head. She brought it up and darted forward, burying her teeth into one of Juliet's cheeks and ripping it away. She wildly chewed and swallowed the flesh from the blonde's face, leaving behind bloody gristle. Juliet's good looks were a thing of the past by the time Psylocke tossed her head into the Blob, letting it sink below the surface and sizzle away into nothingness. She returned to commanding the forces assaulting the bunker's main hatch, aware of the losses they were sustaining, but confident that it would not matter in the end. Hers was not the only assault taking place.


Chapter Thirty-Six: Emily Kaldwin

Emily Kaldwin had no idea that two-fifths of the command structure she was a part of had been killed, or that the Legions of the Undead had already infiltrated the bunker. But she knew all too well about the monster they'd willingly allowed into the sanctuary. She may have been the only one who knew just how far Bathory's depravity stretched. There were hints, rumors, suspicions, but Emily had confirmed it for herself. She'd allowed herself to believe that the horrific experiments served a purpose. But the bunker was under attack, the possibility that it would fall was significant. And while Emily doubted the monsters beating down their doors would care about what Bathory had been getting up to in her hellish lab, but she couldn't afford to let any of the other survivors find out. Not for Bathory's sake – the woman could die choking on her blood for all Emily cared – but for her own. Because she'd been complicit in more than a few of the experiments, and had done her part in feeding the mad scientist her test subjects.

So while the rest of the bunker's fighting force rushed to the main entrance to defend against the creatures eager to break in and kill them all, Emily rushed for Bathory's lab. Her goals were simple. Find out if the woman had discovered anything of potential use. Destroy the evidence of how she'd obtained her knowledge. If necessary, eliminate Bathory to ensure she would never spill her knowledge of Emily's involvement to anyone else. Even if the bunker fell, Emily had no intention of dying there. Life outside would be rough, but she was confident she could handle it. Find a new location to fortify and defend. If anything, being on her own or in a smaller group might lend itself to a higher chance of prolonged survival. The bunker was a beacon of life, shining brightly in the dark pit of the Necropolis. It was a testament to their perseverance. But it was also a big blinking sign declaring them as a juicy banquet.

Tapping in the pass-code on the terminal outside of Bathory's lab, the door clicked open and Emily entered, making sure to pull the door shut behind her. The lock clicked back into place, ensuring that they wouldn't be interrupted. “Bathory,” she called, eyes fixing on the blonde. “You may have noticed we're under attack.”

Bathory was leaning over a microscope. She waved a dismissive hand in Emily's direction. “I deactivated the alarm system in here. Couldn't hear myself think.”

“Of course, you did,” Emily muttered. “It's serious. We've never seen numbers like this before. Creatures like this. If you have a secret weapon, now's the time to share it with the rest of the class.”

Bathory rose from the microscope and turned to Emily, smiling thinly behind her surgery mask. “Sorry,” she said, sounding far from it. “I have nothing that could be of use to the rest of the bunker.”

Then what the hell was it all for? Emily's mind clouded with the victims she'd offered up to Bathory. The woman had insisted that she was close to a breakthrough. Just a few more subjects, she'd kept insisting. She'd gotten them. And while the loses may not have been much use in a fight, they'd still been lives lost. If they'd been sacrificed for a purpose, Emily would have been fine. But if it had all been in vain, she didn't know if she could handle the guilt. She'd have to figure it out later. If Bathory had failed then they needed to move on to step two of her plan. “Fine,” she said. “We need to destroy your toys. We can't leave anything behind that might tip off what you've been doing in here.”

“That's absurd,” Bathory growled. “You can't just barge in here and demand I destroy all of my hard work. Just because you feel guilty about how you've helped me conduct my research doesn't mean I have to suffer for your lack of commitment.”

I guess we'll be skipping right to the part of my to-do list that involves killing her, Emily thought. She was quite alright with the outcome. She'd been considering taking Bathory out regardless. The woman may have had her uses, but her sadism and narcissism made her nearly impossible to work with. She drew her sword, the blade unfolding and click into place. “I'm afraid you'll have to discover just how committed I am to making sure no one ever finds out about this madness I've allowed you to indulge in.”

“Then I'm afraid you'll have to discover why they call me the Butcheress,” the blonde surgeon growled, pulling a pair of bloodstained bone saws into her hands and giving them a stylish flip. The pair glared at each other, neither one willing to back down. On the contrary, Bathory was looking forward to spilling Emily's blood. The woman had been a convenient benefactor, but if the bunker was truly falling, she needed the woman gone just as much as Emily needed her gone. The naive survivors were easily manipulated. She could easily convince them to bring her along if they abandoned the base. But not if Emily was there, telling them of her experiments. Besides, slaughtering the sexy young woman would be fun. The sort of orgasmic brutality she'd been missing.

The staring match ended as the two women charged one another. Emily brought her sword up, knocking away one of Bathory's bone saws and taking a swipe at the woman's face. For a surgeon, she proved surprisingly limber, arching her spine to avoid Emily's blade. She responded with a high kick that very nearly drove the pointed tip of her stiletto through Emily's cheek. The young empress-assassin ducked under the kick, jabbing her fist into Bathory's thigh hard enough to leave the muscle throbbing. Bathory cried out, limping out of range so she could reset herself for the fight to continue. She launched an aggressive assault, swiping her bone saws at Emily. Emily moved just as fast, blocking the strikes and sending sparks into the air as the metal connected at high speed.

Emily found herself wishing for the clockwork heart that allowed her to tap into the spectral realm of the assassin, but she'd not had it when she'd been abducted into the Necropolis. Bathory was proving to be far more difficult to kill than she'd anticipated. Her eyes shot wide as the woman launched herself into the air, flipping upside down and spreading her long legs into a split. Bathory's body spun like a top, her deadly stilettos managing to connect with her chest. Emily cried out, the front of her top slashed open and a deep gouge opened up across the skin beneath. She half-fell, half-threw herself to the floor, using her momentum to roll away from Bathory's devastating assault. As the woman landed, Emily spotted an opening and desperately took it. With a yell, she darted forward and rammed the blade of her sword through Bathory's slender belly. She spotted the surprise in the woman's eyes, and grinned as she adjusted the angle of her sword and rammed it up through her chest, straight through to her back.

Bathory hacked up a wad of blood, crimson soaking into her surgeon's mask. The tension flowed out of her body, slumping onto Emily's sword as her eyes lost focus. With a grunt, Emily shoved the woman's body off of her blade, letting it drop to the floor. She panted heavily, the front of her top soaked through with blood from the gash across her chest. She would need stitches, but that could wait. First, she needed to destroy the evidence in the lab. She made her way over to the pit where Bathory kept her former test subjects. She had no idea if the zombies could still feel anything, if they still retained anything from their former lives. She hoped they didn't. If so, she could at least take some solace in the fact that their suffering would be over very soon.

Emily gasped as sharp pain spiked through her back. She looked down, staring in shock at the bloody tip of the bone saw protruding from just below her right breast. She jerked, crying out as the second bone saw ripped through her torso, jutting from her belly. She stumbled, nearly fell, but an arm slid around her to help her maintain her balance. Confusion filled her face as she saw Bathory leering at her. The blonde tugged away her face mask, revealing her fangs as her eyes flicked red. “What's the matter?” she growled. “You thought you won?” With a hiss, Bathory shoved her face against the side of Emily's neck, sinking her fangs in and sucking at the blood that flowed out. Emily cringed, struggling to pull free of the woman. Bathory suckled at her neck for a few moments before pulling back, dragging her tongue through the dark blood staining her lips. “Thanks for the workout,” she said, shoving Emily backwards, over the edge of the pit.

With a bone saw skewering one lung, Emily was already having trouble breathing. As her back hit the floor of the pit, what little oxygen she'd managed to suck in was knocked out of her, along with a few flecks of blood. She wheezed, struggling to brush aside her double-impalement and get back to her feet. She could hear the small zombie pack groaning with interest, their shuffling feet skidding towards her. Wrapping her fingers around the saw shoved through her ribs, she tried to pry it free. The pain of the serrated blade dragging against her flesh and bones made her scream. She could see Bathory standing at the edge of the pit, looking down at her with wild-eyed lust as she tugged down the front of her smock to expose her plump tits. She massaged the sizable mounds in her hands, licking her lips as she watched her former test subjects converge on Emily's fallen form, eager to see what would happen.

Emily managed to sit up only to have her head grabbed and her face mashed into Melissa's rancid cunt. She gagged as the stench of the zombified woman's sex filled her nose, wiry blonde pubic hair rubbing against her lips. She brought her arms up, pressing her palms against her discolored thighs, but couldn't save herself from tasting a few trickles of Melissa's cunt juices as they flowed past her lips and onto her tongue. She gagged, nearly puked. It only worsened as Melissa pulled her head closer, grinding her greasy pussy over her face. Her fingernails dug into the meat of the blonde's thighs, leaving behind bloodless crescent-moon punctures. Desperate to get away from the zombie woman, if only to diminish the stench, Emily shifted tactics from trying to push away. She opened her mouth, feeling disgusting, and sank her teeth into Melissa's swollen labial folds. Coagulated blood, vaginal secretions, and puss flooded her mouth. She retched but kept on biting, hoping the undead still felt something. Melissa released an annoyed growl and shoved Emily away, loosing a clump of her pubes and half her clitoris in the process.

Emily turned her head and spat the mouthful of nastiness onto the floor. Watery vomit followed shortly after, tinged with blood from her perforated stomach. She coughed, groaning as another set of hands grabbed her by the ears. She winced as she was twisted and tugged forward, head lifted up to face Dan Cain's throbbing erection. The puke was still dribbling from her lips as Dan shoved his prick down her throat. She gagged all over again, arms flopping wildly, uncomfortably aware of the two other zombies working together to get her pants off. Tears stung her eyes and as much as she didn't want to, she used the same trick that had worked so well with Melissa. Her teeth sank into the meat of Dan's member, grinding and gnashing until she came away with the slab of cock. Bloody spunk sprayed over her face, leaving her cheeks and forehead smeared with the stuff. The severed dick was too far down her throat to effectively spit out, so she was forced to swallow it down her throat, nearly choking in the process.

Emily's pants ripped at the seams, freeing her thin legs. She kicked at the two zombies – Rita and Tommy Doyle – knocking them back and skidding her across the floor, through the pool of blood that had spilled from her. The seat of her underwear became soaked in the sticky warmth. The pair were only deterred briefly, lunging at her and sinking their teeth into the sides of her calves. She shrieked, gasping in air and wheezing it out. Rita pried her legs apart while Tommy moved between them, ripping her panties away and burying his face in her snatch. His bloated tongue slithered through her slit, growling with lust as he coaxed her sex into a damp state. Melissa dropped onto Emily's face, mashing her ass into the young woman's face while reaching down to play with her breasts and finger the slash across the top of her chest.

Tommy climbed up Emily's body, ramming his swollen prick into her drool-slickened pussy. Emily groaned into Melissa's ass as she was penetrated. Her face had grown pale from the blood loss. The wounds she'd sustained had gone numb. Tommy didn't mind the noticeably cooled state of her cunt. He barely even noticed it as he humped between her spread thighs with growing force. Leon stumbled over and shoved Melissa off of Emily's head, dropping to his knees and slapping his erection against her face. If he'd noticed what she'd done with her mouth previously, it hadn't sunk into his undead brain. Thankfully for him, Emily was too weak to manage to bite through his dick as he shoved it into her mouth. He gripped her hair, dragging her head back and forth along his length.

Up above, Bathory had a hand shoved down the front of her slacks, pumping three fingers into her slippery cunt. She panted and grunted as she watched Emily being ravaged. She pinched and tugged on one pale pink nipple, enjoying the spark of painful pleasure it caused her. The psychotic doctor chuckled as she spotted Makoto crawling her way over Emily, focusing her attention on the woman's chest, sucking at her nipples and dragging her tongue across the gash she'd left in Emily's chest. Bathory thumbed her clit and fought to keep the tears of pleasure from obscuring her vision too much. She could tell Emily's life was withering away just from the amount of blood she'd shed. Slowing the pumps of her fingers, she worked her body up to the cusp of a climax without going over, wanting to cum as Emily went.

The blood loss and internal damage would have been fatal on their own, but it was the undead prick ramming down her gullet that ultimately doomed Emily. Her gag reflex triggered repeatedly, until she was forced to puke again. Her seizing stomach forced the chunk of Dan's cock back up her esophagus. This time, it became lodged there, unable to exit her mouth with Leon's dick plugging the way. Emily's eyes bulged, tears gushing from them as she choked on both cocks simultaneously, unable to draw even a little air into her half-crippled lungs. She shuddered on the floor, grinding her crotch up to meet Tommy's thrusts. She felt him spray his load into her clenching pussy. Dizziness washed over her, darkness creeping into her vision. Leon pulled out of her mouth and came across her face, but by then it was far too late. A final wet death rattle crept past the severed prick stuffing her throat as she slumped into a lifeless heap. Standing at the edge of the pit, Bathory cried out her squishy release.

Bathory drew her hand out of her pants, sucking at the juices soaking her fingers. She savored the tingles of pleasure running through her. The wound Emily had given her was already well on its way to healing thanks to the vampiric traits she'd spliced into her own DNA. If that cunt Rayne couldn't kill me, you never had a chance, she thought as she eyed Emily's husk. She laughed as she watched the young woman's eyes turn murky. Her body twitched, unholy reanimation taking hold. She tried to groan, but the cock in her throat made the sound a series of wet pops. She rolled herself over and lifted her perky, blood-smeared ass up so that Steve Christy could happily wedge his prick into her anus. The undead gangbang continued. But Bathory had lost interest in it.

A brief check of her terminal showed her just how badly the battle for the bunker was going. “The stupid twat was right,” she grumbled. “Guess it really is time to leave.” She backed her research up onto a portable disk drive, listening to the zombies in the pit moaning and slapping their rotting flesh against each other in carnal fury. When she had the files safely transferred, she slipped the drive into her pocket and initiated the self-destruct sequence for the lab. It hadn't come standard. She'd rigged the place herself. The resulting explosion wouldn't be enough to take out the whole bunker, but it would destroy the lab entirely. She made her way back over to the pit, looking down at her playthings. “I'm so sorry, my pretties,” she told them. “But it seems this is goodbye.” The pack of horny zombies didn't even notice her, too busy welcoming their latest recruit into the club. Bathory committed a few more of the violently erotic images to memory before hurrying out of the lab. Now she only had to escape the bunker before things got too bad.


Chapter Thirty-Seven: Miranda Lawson

The sight of Juliet Starling being brutally dismembered and murdered left a cold lump in Miranda Lawson’s belly. She’d found Juliet’s persistently bubbly attitude – even in the face of the disturbing realities of the Necropolis – more than a little grating. And Jack called me a cheerleader, she thought. She had no idea. On the other hand, Miranda could not deny the powerhouse Juliet had been in regard to causing massive amounts of damage to the enemy line in a short period of time. The loss of her as a defender would no doubt be paid for with even more blood. Miranda only hoped that it wouldn’t result in the downfall of the Bunker entirely.

Determined to keep fighting despite the loss, Miranda barked orders to the other survivors who’d made it to the front line with her. Juliet had bought them time and some room to maneuver, but it was up to them to take full advantage of the situation. She aimed and fired as quickly as she could, picking off as many zombies as she could. The rapid pops of Clarice Starling’s handgun echoed in her ear as the woman helped to hold the undead horde at bay. Spotting a group of zombies attempting to flank them, Miranda directed Zafina to take care of them. The Middle Eastern fighter charged into the pack, delivering a series of rapid strikes to keep them at bay and dispatch them.

They were doing their best. With the help of Clarice, Zafina, and the other survivors who’d emerged from the Bunker to join the fight, Miranda figured they could hold off the assault for a little while longer. But the odds of winning the battle were depressingly slim. They’d never been able to get an accurate count on the number of zombies dwelling within the Necropolis, but she knew they were staggering. And that didn’t even include the myriad of other monstrosities that proved an even bigger threat. The majority of those monsters were currently lumbering their way towards the Bunker’s main entrance. “Dammit,” Miranda muttered under her breath, emptying the last of her blaster’s charge into the head of a charging Hell Hound and rapidly replacing it with a fresh energy pack. “Where the hell are you, D.Va?”

The worst thing about the Necropolis, aside from the unending stream of violent death and worse that it contained, was the way it somehow managed to keep throwing new adversity at them. Miranda spotted yet another new creature as it galloped through a pack of zombies on its way to the front line. It was an absurd looking thing. Three thick legs – arranged in a tripod formation – sprouting from an oversized, spherical head. Dark, shaggy fur layered the head while the legs were left as little more than raw muscle tissue. The cylindrical legs ended in horse-like hooves. Miranda was still taking in the disturbing visage of the thing when its wide mouth opened and a spear-tipped tongue sprang forth. She only had time to dodge, shifting to the side and pulling her head down to avoid having her face impaled on the tongue.

By saving her own life, Miranda unintentionally put Clarice within the tongue’s path of death. The Federal agent caught the briefest glimpse of movement in her peripheral vision, enough to get her to turn her head towards it just in time to let the spear-tongue crunch through the bridge of her nose. Her body snapped tense, eyes bulging as the tongue rocketed through her sinus cavities and into her brain. Her pistol dropped from her twitching hands as the fleshy length of sharpened muscle tissue exploded from the back of her head. Her knees wobbled as her legs went weak, piss soaking into the crotch of her pants as her eyes lazily rolled inwards. Then, as powerfully as the Spear-Tongued Head Snatcher had expelled its tongue, it retracted it. Clarice’s head was violently ripped from her body and yanked into the creature’s waiting mouth where it was promptly and messily crushed into a gory pulp. Clarice’s headless corpse flopped onto its back, subtle death twitches rolling through her.

Before Miranda could get revenge for Clarice’s death, the three-legged monster darted away. She fired a few shots after it anyway, nearly managing to blow one of its legs off. “Keep fighting,” she yelled to the others, face constricting with desperate determination. “Hold them back!” Given what they faced and the certainty of what would happen if they failed, the other survivors didn’t need Miranda’s encouragement, but it was appreciated all the same. Camille Montes rattled off a stream of hot lead destruction by way of the Uzi she clutched in her hands. Zafina snatched up Clarice’s discarded pistol and took advantage of the ability to deliver some killing force at range. Kunimitsu flung throwing daggers into the zombies shuffling towards them. The line was holding. For the moment, at least.

That moment passed almost too fast for Miranda to keep up with. The trio of Hell Flyers swooped in from seemingly out of nowhere. Before she could get a clean shot on any of them, they converged on Zafina. Unfamiliar with the gun she held, she tried to use it as a bludgeoning tool to beat the creatures back. She screamed as their claws dug into her, tightening into a firm hold. Their leathery wings beat rapidly, hoisting the Middle Eastern woman into the air. As she struggled, they carried her back towards the bulk of the attack force. One of them tore open her top and let out a cackle as he watched her full breasts bounce free.

“Shit,” Miranda hissed, watching as the Hell Flyers carried Zafina further away. She lifted her blaster and steadied her breathing, doing her best to block out all of the hellish distractions around her. She waited for the perfect moment and desperately hoped that it came soon. Thankfully, it did. She squeezed off a shot and breathed a sigh of relief as she watched one Hell Flyer’s head explode into a messy spatter. Zafina let out a startled yelp as her body slipped free from the dead creature’s grip. Her weight proved too much for the remaining two and she managed to pull herself free. The ten foot drop to the ground would have left her bruised but alive. The five or so foot drop to the ravenous pack of undead beneath her would make for a softer landing, but a far more fatal one.

The zombies caught Zafina as she fell, allowing her to crowd surf above them for a few moments before pulling her down between them. She screamed as their rotting hands grabbed at her, squeezing her breasts and tearing away her remaining clothing. Jagged teeth sank into her shoulder as rancid undead cock stabbed into her cunt. Consumed by their most basic instincts, the zombies forgot all about advancing on the bunker and focused their full attention on the sexy morsel that had fallen into their clutches. Hidden within the crowd of zombies, Zafina’s terrible ordeal could not be seen by the other survivors. But thanks to her rising shrieks, they could certainly hear it.

Miranda’s biotic powers had been far from reliable since her arrival in the Necropolis. Her best guess was that something within the corrupted city was affecting her on a biological level. That alone was scary enough, but hardly the most pressing concern at the moment. Pushed well beyond the point of desperation, she focused what energy she could to conjure up a biotic slam. Gritting her teeth and feeling the stirrings of a pounding headache in the back of her skull, Miranda cried out as she unleashed the energy on the group of zombies ravaging Zafina. She gasped as the power left her, plucking the stinking corpses into the air and slamming them back into the ground with enough force to leave them crippled or dead.

Miranda blinked the sweat from her eyes, uncomfortably aware of how weak her muscles suddenly felt. She looked into the pile of mangled undead flesh for any sign of Zafina. When she spotted the woman, she regretted having looked for her in the first place. Zafina lay on her back, hips twisted to the side with a zombie cock still wedged halfway into her ass. Her steaming guts lay pooled beside her and half of her throat had been torn out. The woman’s unblinking eyes were as clear an indicator of her death as any of her wounds. Just another death to weigh on her conscience.

Perhaps it was the fatigue she felt from using her biotic powers, or the disheartening lump in her gut as she realized the futility of their efforts, but regardless of the reason, the result was the same. She took no notice of the others pulling back. Or the reason why they were retreating. It wasn’t until Menat called out to her that she snapped out of her daze and realized the danger she was in. By then it was too late. The Big Man that had charged up from the side was practically on top of her. She twisted towards him, bringing her blaster up, only to have it promptly slapped from her hand. She threw herself backwards as the obese zombie’s expansive belly split open, but not nearly fast enough to avoid being snared by his prehensile intestines.

One fleshy tip of innards coiled around Miranda’s throat, choking her until she was forced to open her mouth. The gut promptly shoved past her lips and into her throat. Miranda gagged, both from the girth and the taste. Her eyes squinted, stinging tears welling up and rolling down her cheeks as the intestine squirmed deeper into her body. It drew back slightly before plunging forward again, brutally fucking her face. She struggled within the grip of the guts, trying to pull back from the Big Man but unable to plant her feet firmly enough to do so. She managed to break a hand free and brought it up to her face, clenching her fingers around the intestine hammering its way towards her stomach. The thick blood and stomach juices covering the innards made it hard for her to get a solid grip. Instead of pulling the offending appendage free, she only managed to jerk it off.

Miranda’s face reddened, both from the shame of her violation and the difficulty she had breathing around the squirming tendril of flesh. She could feel it in her stomach, sloshing through the humid sac of tissue on its way towards her digestive tract. The progress of the length of intestine could be seen as it forced her belly to bulge out against her tight-fitting bodysuit. Her abdomen became a coiled maze of twists and turns as the Big Man fucked his way through Miranda’s body even as he tugged her ever closer to the gaping maw of his massive belly. Miranda dug her teeth into the fleshy tissue, trying to chew through the gut but finding it too rubbery to make any real progress. She managed to bring her hands up, gripping either side of the Big Man’s body in a faltering attempt to halt her forward progress.

A choked groan worked its way up Miranda’s throat as her asshole was stretched from within. The seat of her bodysuit pushed outwards as the tip of the intestine emerged from her rear. The material stretched as the Big Man fucked his way from Miranda’s mouth to her ass with growing speed and force. Eventually, the suit gave way, splitting open and allowing the tendril to emerge. It waved about, making it look as if Miranda had suddenly sprouted a macabre tail. The intestine curled upwards, slipping into the crack of her ass and helping to pull her along towards her ultimate fate.

Horrified strain spread across Miranda’s face as her elbows were forced to bend. Her wide eyes stared into the Big Man’s belly as her face was covered in shadow. She could feel the damp heat wafting out of the maw and could already see a pool of powerful stomach acids waiting for her in the base of the creature’s belly. She hardly noticed as another length of intestine managed to creep down the front of her suit and tear it open, letting her full breasts spill free and dangle beneath her. The disgrace of her molestation paled in comparison to the very real certainty that she would soon suffer the pain of a rapid digestion.

The Big Man enjoyed thoroughly plundering Miranda from ass to mouth. The entirety of her body looked like a delicious meal to him. But the psychic urging from Psylocke encouraged him to move things along. With the woman’s head within his gut, he had more than enough of her to put an end to her once and for all. The fleshy flaps of his split open belly drew closed, pressing tightly around Miranda’s neck to create a seal solid enough to ensure only a small quantity of his digestive juices would escape. It made for an awkward feeling, but not an unpleasant one, as Miranda’s neck shifted slightly against the tight hole in the middle of his belly. A bubbling chuckle rolled up the back of the Big Man’s swollen throat as he allowed his body to do what it did naturally.

Given her genetically designed aesthetic perfection, it was shocking that it took a group of zombies so long to take notice of her flawlessly crated ass. Once they did, there was no stopping them from converging on the squirming woman. Her asshole remained thoroughly plugged with the length of intestine, but the split in her suit left her crotch fully defenseless. The zombies formed an impatient queue as they attempted to guide their throbbing members to the soft folds of her pussy. With her head trapped within the Big Man’s gut, face already drenched in sweat and feeling the sting of the juices that had spattered onto her cheeks, Miranda’s options for dealing with the new assault were limited, but she tried all the same. She managed to draw one leg up, plant her foot against the offending zombie’s abdomen, and kick out, sending him stumbling backwards. But even that minimal victory was incredibly short lived. The moment she knocked the first zombie away, a second took up position behind her and this time she couldn’t get her leg up in time to avoid having her cunt stuffed with eager undead cock.

The guts still inside the Big Man’s belly converged on Miranda’s head. They grouped together against the back of it and shoved her face into the growing pool of juices gathering in the pit of his abdomen. Pain exploded through Miranda as her flesh sizzled from the contact with the fluids. Bubbles of oxygen popped across the surface as the hiss of her digesting skin bored into her ears. Her agonized scream was muffled several times over between the intestine fucking her face, the puddle of digestive enzymes she was being pulled into, and the seal of flesh around her neck, but if it had been left unhindered, it would have been epic.

The flavor of Miranda’s dissolving meat inspired the Big Man’s stomach to produce greater quantities of acids. They practically rained over the woman’s head, sizzling into her scalp and rapidly eating away her hair. Her eyes exploded within her skull, ocular fluids gushing into the reddening pool of fluids. Her lips curled back and melted away, revealing her once perfect teeth as they decayed and wiggled loose from her jaw. Her body bucked wildly as her skull softened and caved in, digestive juices soaking and withering her brain. She unintentionally bucked back against her undead lover, cunt muscles clamping down with vice-like tightness as piss gushed from her crotch. As the last of Miranda’s head collapsed into a mushy pile of soft bone and liquid flesh, the seal around her neck snapped almost completely closed.

Miranda’s headless body sprang back from the Big Man. The intestine fucking its way through her retracted with lighting speed, pulling free of her ragged neck and slithering back into the obese creature’s gut. Miranda’s arms shot out, flapping wildly as her body reacted to her gruesome decapitation. She fell into the arms of the zombie dumping his sticky load into her pussy. He clutched her large tits as he rode out his climax before releasing her and letting her flop into a shuddering heap. The zombies who’d been waiting for a turn were quick to move over her, rolling her onto her back and spreading her out for a proper undead gangbang.

One cock slid easily into her blood-lubed throat hole. The zombie pumped into her, leaning forward to roughly grope her mountainous tits. Another dropped on top of her, sliding his member into her cleavage. A third lifted her still kicking legs up onto his shoulders and drove into her ass. The last two guided her twitching fingers around their shafts, forcing her dead hands to jerk them off. Trapped within the Big Man’s belly, the last of Miranda’s head finished digesting into an indecipherable pool of slop.

A volley of micro-missiles brought an abrupt end to the disturbing orgy. The explosions ripped the zombies – and Miranda’s remains – into charred chunks of gore. The Big Man turned towards the unexpected attack and an expression that almost looked like surprise spread across his face as he took in the sight of the hot pink mech. That expression disappeared as a second set of micro-missiles was fired into him, ripping his expansive body apart. With a look of grim fury on her face, D.Va guided her mech further onto the battlefield, surveying the abundance of targets in need of destroying.

“Alright, you ugly bastards,” she growled. “It’s payback time.”


Chapter Thirty-Eight: D.Va

The Omni wasn’t prone to giving its victims much. Or, for that matter, allowing them to keep much. The bulk of the innate gifts and abilities those that entered the Necropolis possessed were either stripped from them completely or severely neutered. But sometimes, there were exceptions. Sometimes, even the nearly omnipotent being missed something. Most of the time, whatever boons those selected were given was by choice. In the case of D.Va and her mech unit, it was most definitely the will of the Omni. The playing field was wrought with insurmountable danger. Even the stronghold of the Bunker was a small problem in the grand scheme of things. But the Omni enjoyed being as hands off as possible. And it enjoyed delivering some ounce of hope to those it captured even more. The being had no foreknowledge as to how allowing D.Va to keep her mech would play out in the grand scheme of things, but it was certain the results would be entertaining.

The sight of Miranda Lawson’s headless corpse being blown to pieces was just the start of that entertainment.

D.Va had no idea why she still had her mech, but she was thankful for it. She only wished she’d been able to get it through the Bunker’s hatchway faster. If so, she might’ve been able to save Miranda, or any of the others who’d been lost so far during the battle. But she knew she had no time for regret or hesitation. Not unless she wanted to see more of her fellow survivors succumb to the horrors of the Legions of the Undead. She moved forward, the mech’s feet stomping heavily but swiftly, putting herself between the remaining survivors and the threat of the oncoming horde. The mech was heavily armored and heavily armed. She could hold back the bulk of the attackers for as long as her ammo held out. Thankfully, she still had plenty of that.

Directing her fusion cannons towards the nearest pack of zombies, D.Va unleashed a turquoise spray of destruction into them. The mech swept from side to side, mowing down the shuffling sacks of putrid meat in waves. She shifted the mech backwards, adjusting her aim to shoot down the small cloud of Hell Flyers attempting to swoop in on her from above. One bloody carcass smacked against her windscreen and slid away. Taking one hand off her guns, she hit a button that sprayed a cleaning solution across the thick glass and wiped away the gore, clearing her ability to see.

An insistent beep from her targeting computer alerted D.Va to a Blow Hunter primed to spring onto an unsuspecting Kunimitsu. The mech swiveled towards the threat and locked on. “Kunimitsu,” she called, her voice boosted by the mech’s exterior speakers. “Down!” The masked woman dropped low as the Blow Hunter sprang towards her. The organic suicide bomber’s trajectory was interrupted by a set of micro-missiles that detonated the creature well before it intended to do so. Loose flaps of skin and stringy lines of cum exploded into the air, leaving Kunimitsu more than a little messy but still very much alive.

D.Va returned her attention to the forward line of monsters, mowing down a dozen more zombies. The Head Snatcher charged towards her, unleashing its deadly tongue in her direction. The windshield might have been strong enough to keep her safe, but D.Va didn’t chance it. She activated her mech’s defensive matrix and grinned as she watched the thing’s trademark tongue obliterated before it got close enough to cause any trouble. The Head Snatcher let out a shriek, stumbling on its tripod legs as it whipped its bloody, half-destroyed tongue through the air. D.Va hit the boosters on her mech and launched into the air, massive metal feet slamming down onto the injured monstrosity and stomping it into a pulped wad of meat.

As she scraped the gooey remains of the Head Snatcher from the bottom of her mech’s feet, D.Va felt a flicker of hope. She’d barely been on the field and had already taken out so many of the Necropolis’s monstrosities. There were bigger threats and still so many more zombies to contend with, but with the help of the other survivors, victory could be achieved. D.Va kept at it, picking off a Hell Hound as it made a dash towards Camille, laying waste to a scuttering clutch of Flesh Weavers as they tried to snare Beruka, swatting down the combined efforts of a couple of Hell Flyers and a trio of zombies as they tried to heard C. Viper into a compromised position. And even as she focused on keeping the others safe, she managed to push forward. More importantly, she managed to push the Legions of the Undead back.

The turning of the tide did not go unnoticed. Renee Montoya clutched at Psylocke, her face filled with pained shock as the zombified woman squeezed her fingers around her rapidly pumping heart. Blood soaked through her top from the hole Psylocke had punched into her chest. The commander of the forward assault turned her attention away from her latest victim, taking in the wanton destruction D.Va was causing. With a hiss of annoyance, Psylocke ripped Montoya’s heart from her chest and shoved the dying detective to the ground. She reached out with her psychic connection to the creatures under her control, seeking out one heavy hitter to handle another. From the back of the crowd of creatures, the Blob began to advance on D.Va.

With its daunting size, it didn’t take long for D.Va to notice the Blob. She directed her aim towards it and let loose with a steady stream of fusion cannon fire. The turquoise spray connected with the amorphous creature, creating a ripple across its gel-like exterior but doing no discernable damage. She switched to micro-missiles. The explosions put a few dents into the Blob, but it managed to absorb the kinetic force of the missiles with relative ease. D.Va’s jaw firmed, her eyes narrowed, and she unleashed the combined force of her fusion cannons and micro-missiles directly into the closest thing she could identify as the Blob’s face. A visual symphony of light and smoke consumed the Blob as D.Va unleashed a wall of destruction upon the creature, daring to hope that it might be enough to stop the thing.

D.Va let up on firing when the smoke became too thick to get a clear target. She waited and – for a moment – thought she’d succeeded in annihilating the Blob. Then its pinkish frame stomped its way through the wafting cloud and continued its advance on her. She couldn’t see any damage. Her mech’s targeting computer confirmed as much. Thinking fast, D.Va realized she had only one option left. If the Blob was too tough to destroy from the outside, she’d have to blow it apart from within. She ran her fingers along the control panel of her mech, strongly suspecting that she wouldn’t be able to call down another to replace it once it was gone.

There wasn’t much time for D.Va to lament the loss of her mech. She hastily engaged the unit’s self-destruct sequence and prepped her ejection. She stared hard at the terminal as it calculated the best position and angle of ejection to keep her from landing in the midst of the enemy. The calculations dragged on and D.Va felt her blood chill as she spotted all the fresh targets emerging on her terminal. Their numbers were reduced significantly, but the time she’d spent focusing on the Blob had allowed them to edge around her. She tapped in an override command to allow the mech to launch her with more force than was recommended so it could shoot her back to the Bunker’s entrance. If she sustained a few cracks and bruises, that was fine. But she couldn’t stay inside the mech and she didn’t want to drop down in front of a hellish beast eager to tear her apart.

D.Va shrieked as a wet slap drew her attention away from the computer. She looked up to see the Blob had extended several tendrils and taken hold of her mech. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as panic overtook her. The panic grew stronger, along with a surreal sense that she had to be dreaming, when the Blob showed just how strong it was by lifting the significant weight of the mech and yanked it into its central mass. The greenish tint of her windshield made the pinkish hue of the Blob’s gel look darker. She was half a second away from hitting the emergency ejection trigger when she realized that the Blob had pulled her in enough to block the hatch.

The realization that she was going to die struck D.Va like a sudden dunk into a pool of ice water. The hope she’d felt was nearly gone. The only positive she could take from her situation was that the self-destruction of her mech would – with luck – be enough to destroy the Blob. She closed her eyes and waited for the explosion to rip her and the terrible creature apart. But even the victory of consuming her mech was not enough for the Blob. It wasn’t capable of dissolving the armor of the machine, but it was more than capable of exerting enough pressure around it to crack into the cockpit containing the sexy morsel it craved.

D.Va’s eyes snapped open as she heard the crunch of glass. Her face filled with horror as she watched the spiderweb of cracks spreading across her windshield as the Blob pushed in around her mech. She let loose with a terrified scream as the windshield gave way and a flood of thick gel gushed into the cockpit. The pink goo soaked her in moments, dissolving her clothing. D.Va flailed her arms and kicked her legs against the burning agony of her dissolving skin. In the few moments before her eyes melted from her skull, she watched the skin slide away from one outstretched hand, leaving behind only sizzling bones.

The Blob managed to reduce D.Va down to a squirming, skinless wreck before the mech self-destructed. The force of the explosion obliterated the machine and the half-dead young woman within it. The Blob’s exterior bulged outwards, the flames and shrapnel contained within it expanding in slow motion before popping the creature like an overinflated balloon. Smoking, goo-soaked chunks of mech flew out, a few pieces managing to crush some of the monsters who’d been too close to the explosion. One of D.Va’s arms smacked against the wall, glistening muscle tissue sticking to the surface for a moment before sliding down. Another thick cloud of smoke obscured the area where the Blob had been. Only this time, when it cleared, the creature was gone.

A thick wad of blackened goo splattered across Renee Montoya’s face and slowly began to consume the organic matter. The Blob had survived, but it would take a long time before it was the juggernaut it had been before meeting D.Va. Psylocke noted the loss and the complications it would bring, but considered it a worthy sacrifice for eliminating such a troublesome survivor. The reduction of her other forces was a harder pill to swallow. With more than a little annoyance, she called out to her remaining creatures and ushered them back so that they could regroup and then resume their frontal assault.


Chapter Thirty-Nine: Pidge Gunderson

Being one of only a handful of survivors with the technical skill to keep the Bunker operating within reasonable efficiency, Pidge Gunderson spent most of her time either monitoring the control station or making her rounds to repair and maintain systems. Typically, she took turns with the others in her little group of engineers and mechanics to do the roaming work. When news had finally reached her of the attack on the primary entrance, she’d felt a little guilty about it having been Bulma’s turn to conduct repairs. Saber’s with her, Pidge told herself firmly. So she should be safe. But we’ve gotta make sure that hatch is repaired, or at least strong enough to hold up so Saber can help them with the fight.

Pidge had barged out of the control station without even offering Isaac a goodbye wave, but given her duties versus the duties of the more combat focused survivors, she was fairly certain she’d get a chance to see him again. The bespectacled young woman had very nearly worked up the nerve to try flirting with the guy. It’d be a shame if the whole Bunker was overrun. The prospects of some kind of relationship – or, hell, even a pleasant distraction from all the constant death and misery – only lingered in the back of Pidge’s mind as she rushed through the Bunker’s halls on her way to the rear hatch.

The thought of what Isaac Clarke’s cock might feel like as it slid into her woefully underutilized pussy vanished completely from Pidge’s mind as she rounded a corner and very nearly collided with the undead form of Princess Zelda. She let out a startled yelp, skidding to a halt. The zombified blonde’s eyes glinted with a devious intelligence Pidge had never seen in one of the undead before. It startled her almost as much as the realization that somehow the monstrosities outside had already breached the Bunker. She pulled back to avoid a swipe from Zelda’s clenched fist, caught off guard once again by how fluid and sure the movement was.

She’d not encountered anyone on her way from the control station. Turning back and letting the undead woman roam freely within the compromised sanctuary of the Bunker was too selfish for Pidge’s liking. She knew – desperately hoped – that Saber and Bulma were still safe at the back hatch. If so, she only had to lead the bizarre zombie there and let Saber handle it. Against every survival instinct she had, Pidge darted towards Zelda and ducked under the undead woman’s attempt to grab her. She spun and waved her hands, backing away. “C’mon, ya smelly bitch! Come get me!”

The hungry glare and twisted approximation of a smirk on Zelda’s pale, damaged face was gruesome, but Pidge assumed it was just because the thing was hungry – or horny. As Zelda turned and advanced on her again, walking instead of shuffling like the other zombies did, she was only thankful that her plan seemed to be working. She was too flustered to consider that perhaps Zelda possessed other traits unlike other zombies. Such as the ability to lay a trap. What Pidge Gunderson didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. But it would kill her.

Wishing she’d arrived in the Necropolis with her Bayard, Pidge swung the pipe wrench she’d taken to carrying with her at Zelda. If she’d had her Bayard, it would have been a simple matter of dicing the zombie woman up, but without it, Pidge had to make due with what she had. She swung the wrench every so often, less so trying to strike Zelda down and more just making sure the undead husk didn’t lose interest in her. Not that it seemed like a problem. Zelda’s murky eyes remained fixed on Pidge, and her movements as she dodged the engineer’s strikes and countered with her own only further exemplified how much different she was to other zombies.

The Seamstress lay in wait, next to invisible to the naked eye and certainly invisible to Pidge with the bulk of her attention devoted to Zelda. The psychic connection between the pair allowed them to organize the trap flawlessly. Zelda made a lunging kick towards Pidge, forcing the engineer to hop back to avoid being hit and right into the hall where the Seamstress was waiting. The nightmarish creature fired off a sticky glob of webbing as she let down her cloak, nailing Pidge’s wrench and ripping it from her hands. The tool-turned-weapon hit the side of the wall with a hard clang and remained there, hopelessly stuck thanks to the webbing.

Pidge let out a startled yelp as the wrench was torn from her grip. She turned and spotted the serpentine monster lurking in the shadowy hallway she’d stepped into. She’d hoped that Zelda’s presence had been a fluke – one sole zombie who’d managed to sneak in somehow – but the presence of the Seamstress meant that they were compromised to a far greater degree than she’d feared. The terrifying sight of the snake-spider-woman thing had a scream creeping up the back of her throat before Pidge could think about the true danger of her situation. The distraction lasted more than long enough for Zelda to charge forward and deliver a snap-kick with her strengthened legs to the engineer’s temple. Pidge cried out, her body flung to the side and bouncing against the wall before collapsing unconscious to the floor.

A cold smirk crossed Zelda’s deformed face as she looked down at Pidge. She glanced to the Seamstress and gave the creature a nod, silently signaling her to dispose of the survivor. With the engineer dealt with, Zelda turned and headed back the way she’d come from, moving deeper into the Bunker on her secret mission. The Seamstress turned her reptilian eyes to the cute little morsel before her. Her bifurcated tongue flickered in the air as she lowered her massive head down to the young woman’s face. A few flicks of her tongue across Pidge’s face didn’t draw so much as a groan from the unconscious heap of meat.

Although the salty taste of Pidge’s sweaty skin stirred the Seamstress’s desire to get a more thorough and proper tasting of her, the wadded up lump of pulverized corpse still lodged in her stomach was too solid to gorge herself on another body. If the snake-spider had purged her last meal, the remains would look nothing like the once beautiful Elsa she’d swallowed. The bulk of her skin had been worn away or eaten through by digestive enzymes. Guts and shards of bones were tangled up with clumps of disheveled blonde hair and muscle tissue. It would take another couple of hours at least before the Seamstress finished digesting Elsa, and then even more time before she expelled the remains as a dried up clump of waste. Far too long to consider consuming Pidge. But that didn’t mean the Seamstress couldn’t have other kinds of fun with the woman.

The Seamstress’s arachnid-like arms moved over Pidge’s body, tugging away her clothing one piece at a time. The engineer’s oversized glasses had fallen half off when Zelda had kicked her and the Seamstress was kind enough to carefully remove them and toss them aside. She stripped Pidge with the tenderness of a lover, eyes drinking in her flesh as it became more and more exposed. Her tongue continued to dart out and sample her skin, teasing at one nipple until it grew stiff and dipping into her belly button. Pidge finally managed a groan when the Seamstress’s tongue slithered through the cleft of her cunt, but the sparks of pleasure weren’t enough to draw her from the concussed state Zelda had left her in.

By the time the young woman was fully nude, both of the Seamstress’s cocks had slid free and stood at firm, sticky attention. Positioning herself carefully and gently, the creature’s serpent-like form pulled Pidge into her embrace, lifting her from the floor and into a straddled position over the Seamstress’s crotch. The twin cock heads nestled against her pussy before the monstrous woman adjusted herself so she could prod at Pidge’s asshole with her lower member. She continued to loop her coils around the unconscious engineer’s form, holding her loosely for the moment. She tightened her grip quickly and precisely, drawing Pidge’s body down onto her two cocks. The young woman’s brow furrowed, a deeper groan bubbling past her lips as her lower orifices were stuffed with the Seamstress’s pricks.

The Seamstress begun a wave-like motion through her coils that helped her fuck deeper into Pidge’s body. Her body curled around the young woman, higher and higher until she was nearly completely engulfed. Only Pidge’s thin legs stuck out from between the coils, limply draped over them, and her head popping up from the tower of looping length. The Seamstress positioned her head right in front of the young woman’s face, watching as she began to stir as the pleasure of having her body violated ate away at her. Pidge’s eyes finally snapped open as she was fucked into her first climax. Her moan of release became a scream of terror as she took in the visage of the Seamstress before her. That scream was cut off as the Seamstress tightened her coils around her, enough to make it painfully difficult to breathe.

Pidge gasped and wheezed, trying to work her arms up and press her hands against the snake-like body wrapped so firmly around her. The pleasant dream she’d been having about Isaac and Hunk double-teaming her in a luxurious bed filled with pillows and surrounded by lit candles was nothing like the reality of being raped by the horrifying creature she’d blundered into. Her legs kicked out wildly, toes clenching and dragging across the sides of the Seamstress’s body. Her lips smacked, drool coating them as she continued to choke, struggling to draw enough air to beg for her life. The fleshy lengths pounding into her lower holes picked up speed as the Seamstress’s wide mouth spread into a deadly smile.

The terror painted across Pidge’s face was nearly as delicious as the taste of her skin and the feeling of her tight holes wrapped around the Seamstress’s cocks, but the Bunker was full of life in need of exterminating. She’d gotten to enjoy the engineer’s body, but the time for playing was drawing to a close. With a final flick of her tongue across Pidge’s nose, the Seamstress resumed coiling around the young woman’s body, covering her head little by little. The desperation rose in Pidge’s wide eyes as the snake-like creature wrapped around her head. Her legs kicked out with greater urgency, unintentionally using her minimal range of movement to fuck herself down onto the Seamstress’s twin members.

With her face mashed up against the Seamstress’s scales and the coils pressing in on her so firmly, Pidge’s ability to breathe was damn near non-existent. She panted out quick, whining breaths against the creature’s skin, tears gushing from her eyes. Darkness overwhelmed her as the Seamstress finished closing her body around her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and begged one of the other survivors to find her before it was too late. Perhaps Saber and Bulma would be coming back down the hall after finishing the repairs to the rear hatch, but even that hope was slim. The Bunker was compromised. Zelda and the Seamstress were far too deep inside to have come from the front entrance. The most likely reason was because they’d come in from the rear. Which meant Saber and Bulma were either dead already, or had far bigger problems on their hands.

The Seamstress didn’t need to taste Pidge to get a good sense of the fear coursing through the young woman’s body. It was clear from every tremble, every panicked, strained breath, the unintentional way her cunt and ass clenched around her prodding members. The Seamstress took pleasure from Pidge’s terror. Her swollen cocks pumped faster into the young woman’s helpless body, growing ever closer to climax with each thrust. Pidge survived only a fraction of a second past the start of the Seamstress’s powerful orgasm, enough to feel the hint of the first spurt of seed shooting into her aching holes, just before the snake-like coils surrounding her head tightened up from reflexive ecstasy.

The quick tensing of her coils around Pidge’s head was all it took to snuff the young engineer out. Her skull collapsed inwards, head popping like a gore-filled melon. Her skinny legs began a new dance, this one just as frantic as the last but stuttered and uncoordinated. Thick lines of bloody mess ooze from between the Seamstress’s coils. The creature loosened her hold around Pidge’s body enough to properly enjoy the young woman’s spastic humping against her spurting pricks as she finished draining her load into the twitching holes. With a satisfied hiss, the Seamstress unlooped herself from around Pidge’s corpse, revealing the sloppy mess that her head had become. She let the body flop back to the floor, the last of its death twitches fluttering through her limbs as cum and piss drained from her thoroughly violated snatch.

The Seamstress pulled Pidge’s corpse into her many arms, carrying it with ease until she found an appropriate hiding place.


The infested shell of Daenerys released a muffled groan of delight as she ground her naked cunt against the still stiff member of Isaac Clarke. After delivering the news of the frontal assault to the control station and watching the nerdy engineer hastily rush off to warn a couple of women who were already quite dead, she’d turned her attention to seducing Isaac. With the body she possessed and the opinion that they might both be dead soon, it hadn’t taken much convincing to get him to go along with the sex. The look of shock on his face as the guts had wormed their way up Daenerys’s throat and into his forehead had been positively orgasmic.

Swallowing down the last of Isaac’s brain matter, Daenerys clenched her pussy around him hard enough to trigger a post-mortem climax, hungrily milking his dead spunk into her body. She pulled off his sticky lap just in time to receive a psychic communication from Zelda informing her that Pidge had been dealt with as well. Daenerys pushed the chair containing Isaac’s inert form aside and crouched over the terminal. She knew nothing about how the device worked, but the engineers had left behind handy labels to guide her. Finding the controls for the ventilation system, she quickly shut the unit off. That alone would have been enough to smother the survivors if given enough time, but the Legions intended to finish with the Bunker long before that happened. Her eyes fluttered back as she informed Zelda of her success.


Zelda tore the grate away from the air vent. She listened, confirming that the fans had shut off. Scooting her legs apart, she reached down between her thighs and worked the muscles of her vagina, coaxing the life form she’d smuggled with her into the Bunker out of her body. A rat-like creature the size of a small dog pushed free from her folds, soaked in her juices. She purred as the thing stretched her as it squeezed out of her pussy, enjoying the feeling of its thin tail wiggling against her sensitive cunt walls before it finally dropped into her hands.

Lifting the tiny terror up and giving it a proud look, she leaned forward to lick some of her juices from its face before turning it around and directing it into the vent. A dark giggle crept out of her as she watched it scamper away into the darkness. Yet another deadly surprise for the survivors to discover.


What's this? A bonus chapter this month featuring a whole buncha random characters meeting their ends, including some suggestions from Gurochan! Enjoy!


Chapter Forty: Endless Slaughter

What would Citizen Z do?

The thought kept bouncing around Kaya’s head as she looked around her bizarre new surroundings. The revelation that she was no longer on Earth but suspended above it in a cramped orbital platform had inspired the urge to vomit, but she’d kept that urge in check. The grisly mayhem transpiring across the dozens of monitors lining one wall of the tiny satellite didn’t help. The things she saw on the screens, the people and the monsters, looked similar to the world she’d been plucked from, but different enough for Kaya to know she was no longer in her original reality.

The one thing amidst all of the weirdness and terribleness that didn’t make Kaya want to curl herself into a ball and close her eyes until it all went back to normal – or at least, her version of normal – was the only other technology in the observation station. The broadcasting gear looked old, mismatched from the more higher tech gear and high-definition monitors surrounding it, but the glowing light on the transmitter at least told her the thing worked. Looking to the monitors again with a little less queasiness in her belly, Kaya realized she might be able to help.

Dropping into the chair in front of the monitors, the young Innuit woman grabbed the transmitter and hit the button. “Yo, this is Kaya Quite Literally in the Sky-a,” she announced, her usually timid voice replaced with a firmer edge. “Broadcasting live via broadband, lowband, VHF, UHF, SkyNet.” She wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but it was Simon’s mantra, and she’d always liked the sound of it. “If you can hear the sound of my voice, you’ve got a friendly eye in the sky. And I’m going to do anything I can to help you survive.”

Kaya released the button and listened, hoping to hear something. When she didn’t, she started to look over the broadcasting gear more closely, quickly discovering that she had no receiver, no speakers. She could call out. But no one could call in. Looking over the monitors, it didn’t look like anyone was in much of a position to even listen. Her spark of energy dwindled, lips curling into a pouting frown. She pressed the button on the transmitter again. “Hello? Please, if you can hear me, give me some kind of sign.”

Kaya stared at the monitors, hoping for something. Instead, all she saw was endless slaughter.


Without Miranda’s leadership or D.Va’s protection, the frontline of survivors at the Bunker’s main entrance suffered badly. The Legions of the Undead pressed in and divided them. One by one, they were picked off.

Jubilation Lee found herself surrounded by a myriad of horrors. The young mutant shifted her extended arms from one target to the next, knocking the creatures back with her pyrotechnic bursts. She cried out as one of the undead abominations grabbed hold of her from behind. As she twisted and turned, trying to throw the man off – very aware of the prodding of his rigid cock against her butt – two more zombies shuffled up from beside her and grabbed her arms. Jubilee screamed and fought as the zombies began a rough game of tug of war on either side of her. Her screams heightened as her shoulders dislocated, twitching fingers flinging off one last blast of fireworks before her limbs were ripped away from her body completely.

Jubilee shrieked as twin geysers of blood gushed from the stumps of her shoulders, weak pops of her pyrotechnic power sparking in the air. She stumbled forward as the zombie holding onto her from behind released her, skin growing deathly pale in moments. Her screams ended with an abrupt crunch as the undead man slammed his fist through the back of her head and into her skull. Her eyes bulged, mouth falling open in a look of dazed horror. The zombie curled his fingers through the spongy mess of Jubilee’s brain, getting a firm grip on the precious organ before ripping a significant chunk of it from her head. The young mutant stumbled forward another half-step before her legs gave out. Her knees hit the ground hard and she rested there for a moment as the crotch of her shorts darkened from her draining bladder. Then she tilted forward, flopping to the ground in a lifeless heap.

After having their prize stolen from them the first time around, the pack of Hell Flyers who’d grabbed up Zafina returned in greater numbers. They swooped and buzzed around Akane Tsunemori, slashing the weapon from her hand quickly to leave her defenseless. Ducking her head low and swinging her fists at the offending creatures, the young woman made an attempt to dart back towards the main hatch. The Hell Flyers ensured she didn’t make it far, digging their claws into her soft flesh and hoisting her into the air. This time, there was enough of them that even if one or two got picked off, they would not drop their sexy prize.

Dribbles of blood and tattered clothing dropped from Akane’s squirming form as the Hell Flyers hastily stripped the woman. After the tease they’d gotten from Zafina, they were quite ready to plunge their throbbing members into her body. It wasn’t until they started attempting it that they realized their greater numbers provided an unforeseen problem. Akane found herself in the middle of a Hell Flyer squabbling match as the creatures thrust into her vulnerable holes and fought for position around her. When it became clear to the winged beasts that there was no solution, they began to jealously pull at Akane, stretching her out between them.

Akane grunted and coughed up a wad of blood as one of the Hell Flyer’s ripped open her belly and rammed his prick into her via the new hole. Another grabbed hold of her right breast and shoved his cock against the underside of it until her flesh tore, allowing him to sink into the warm fat within. A third chewed a chunk from her throat to join the other Hell Flyer already violating her mouth, causing her neck to bulge absurdly. A leg came away, the Hell Flyer who’d procured it folding the limb so he could thrust along the back of her knee. A hand was chewed through at the wrist, twitching fingers forced to jerk off another of the beasts. The gory orgy finally ended Akane’s life as her body gave out completely, shredding into numerous chunks that finally provided the horny Hell Flyers with enough orifices – either natural or monster-made – to satisfy their twisted urges.

With Yoko Littner’s help, Nova Terra had made it onto the rooftop of a nearby building and secured a half-decent sniper’s nest. Yoko spotted for her as she shifted her rifle from one target to the next, taking out as many undead damnations as she could as fast as she could. In their haste to even out the odds, neither of the women noticed the Babymaker crawling its way up a building across from them. Compared to the other monster littering the battlefield, it was small, but in comparison to the crab it resembled, it was on the larger side. Thick, shelled legs tipped with sharp points punched easily into the brick wall as it made its ascent. Its center mass was a good deal squishier than its legs, strongly resembling an oversized phallus with a pair of tiny eye-stocks sprouting from the tip. Those eye-stocks shifted to take aim at the sniper and the barrel-like snout followed after.

The Babymaker’s shaft gave off a throbbing pulse, firing a gooey wad of blackish-green at high velocity. The creature’s aim was just as perfect as Nova’s, unfortunately for the sniper. She hissed as the goo hit her in the neck, more annoyed than hurt. That changed fast as the goo soaked into her skin and started the fast-acting and very fatal gestation of a new life within her. Her sudden scream startled Yoko. Nova’s arms jerked, flinging her rifle off the side of the building. She stared down in horror at her chest, fingers clawing at her suit. “Get it out, get it out, get it – “ Her frantic mantra ended as her chest exploded outwards, spraying Yoko with gory chunks.

Yoko had no time to react as the Spawn Burster sprang from the gaping maw of Nova’s chest and into her face. She screamed as the thing’s six pincer legs punched into the sides of her face, creating a firm, painful grip. The sucker-like mouth sucked at her nose, dozens of razor-sharp teeth chewing away at it. The Burster’s long tail whipped through the air before curling inwards and driving its pointed tip between Yoko’s breasts, cracking through her breastbone and stabbing her with ruthless speed. The gory tip erupted from Yoko’s back briefly before the tail drew back and stabbed again, punching a dozen holes through the woman’s chest before her rapidly dying body fell over the side of the building. Yoko was gone before her tumbling corpse collided with Olivier Armstrong.

Olivier had been in the process of facing down a pair of ravenous Hell Hounds when Yoko’s body hit her. The collision knocked her weapon from her hand and pinned her to the ground for several precious moments, long enough for the beasts to lung towards her. Olivier cried out as fangs dug into her shoulder. She nearly blacked out when the second Hound chomped down between her legs. The Burster clinging to Yoko’s dead face peeled away as it reached the end of its short life cycle and the woman’s corpse was thrown clear of Olivier far too late. The Hell Hounds lifted her into the air between them, twisting and jerking their heads as they fought for the meal. Olivier’s toned belly reached its limit, splitting open and spilling her steaming viscera onto the ground. A moment later, her spine snapped, allowing the Hell Hounds to rip her body in half.

Melpha groaned as the Blow Hunter ravaged her cunt and ass with growing force. As the creature reached his limit and his self-destructive nature was triggered, the woman’s massive breasts provided some means of protection for her. She howled as the Blow Hunter expanded, spikes jutting through her soft mounds of flesh and sending blood and fat splattering over her face. She shuddered against the Blow Hunter, piss draining from her paralyzed cunt from the spike shoved through her spine. She was treated to the sound of the creature’s stretching skin in her final moments, just before the cum-splosion ripped both her and the Blow Hunter apart.

A jagged chunk of spike hit Fiona Belli in the throat. Her eyes bulged, blood gushing from her lips as the impact threw her off her feet and to the ground. Urgent panic spread across her face as she brought her hands up to the spike, clutching at the hot blood gushing out of her. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to pull the spike free, fingers slipping in the blood. Her flailing form didn’t take long to attract a zombie. The undead man dropped down on top of Fiona, tearing away her skirt and tugging her panties to the side so he could plunge into the warm depths of her cunt. The young woman gurgled in protest, but could do nothing as the zombie fucked his way into her. Weakness crept into her as her blood flowed out, soon falling into a listless state, body rocking gently beneath the thrusts of her undead rapist.

The Sorceress flung spell after spell at the rising tide of undead. Her heavy breasts swung as she turned from one direction to the next. She felt frustration rising within her as she found half of her spells completely ineffective against the unholy creatures. She kept on trying, right up to the point that the Impaler’s bony tendril shot into her mouth and down her throat. She gagged, tongue shredded on the jagged length of the appendage. She managed a horrified grunt as the tip of the tendril erupted from her crotch. Her witch’s hat tumbled from her head, allowing her long red hair to spill freely through the air as the massive crustacean pulled her up and towards its hungry maw. The Sorceress squirmed on the segmented tentacle, her suffering growing with each bite the Impaler took from her busty body, chewing her up and swallowing her down like a sexy kabob.

Arlene Sanders managed to blow away two-thirds of the Hell Hounds rushing her down. Her rifle clicked empty just before the third reached her. She muttered a curse that ended in a heavy grunt as the weight of the beast collided with her, knocking her to the ground and sending her spent weapon flying. Her armor kept her chest safe, but it left the lower half of her body woefully undefended. She grimaced with disgust as the Hell Hound’s prick bashed against her crotch, leaving the front of her pants sticky with the beast’s pre-cum. The fabric split and allowed the monster to shove his thick length into her sweaty slit. Arlene cried out, punching against the Hell Hound’s big head in a futile attempt to get it off of her. Her attempt to defend herself only inspired the beast to bite her hand off. She writhed beneath the Hell Hound, firm ass grinding into the ground as the creature’s thrusts picked up speed. As the Hound’s knot swelled within her tight snatch, he lunged forward and buried his fangs into the redhead’s throat, nearly taking her head off in a single bite.

Jessica Albert struggled wildly to pull her hands free from the wads of webbing keeping her arms pinned to the ground. The Flesh Weavers scurried across her body. No matter how hard she twisted her flung herself, she couldn’t throw them free. The arachnids crept over her, using strategic shots of their highly adhesive webbing to rip away her clothing. The Flesh Weavers buried their spinnerets into Jessica’s loins, squirting webbing up her ass and into her vaginal canal. The woman’s face paled, eyes bulging with sickened agony as the small spiders used their firm anchor within her to tear her reproductive system and intestines from her body, dragging the bloody lengths of her innards across the ground until she finally passed out from the shock.

Although the influence of the Necropolis had subdued her esper abilities, Mikoto Misaka still possessed enough strength and confidence to charge into the battle. She unleashed a form of her Railgun ability – weaker but still quite deadly – right into the face of the Hell Hound chewing away at Arlene’s corpse. The explosion of blinding light and charred chunks of meat was spectacular, but it made Mikoto a very clear target in need of elimination. The young woman took no notice of the attention she was drawing as she fired off another blast that transformed a small cloud of Hell Flyers into charred ash.

Psylocke decided to handle the threat personally. She returned to Juliet Starling’s chainsaw, ripping the blade free from the weapon. Imbuing the chainsaw blade with psionic energy, the zombified mutant cocked it back and flung it at Mikoto. The psionic energy – strengthened by the dark forces corrupting Psylocke’s undead body – kept the skilled esper blind to the incoming projectile until the bloody teeth of the chainsaw blade met her neck. Mikoto’s head flew from her shoulders, spinning wildly before smacking to the ground. Her body stumbled about aimlessly, blood gushing from the stump of her neck and flowing across her chest and back. A Hell Flyer swooped in to catch her corpse before it fell, carrying it off to enjoy.

The rippling flesh of the thirty-foot tall female zombie was sickening enough, but it paled in comparison to her methods of attack. Her swollen, hideous face twisted into a look of cruel joy as she clutched Mara Jade’s squirming form in one massive hand. The redheaded Jedi nearly puked when the giant lowered her between her thick legs, giving her an unobstructed view of the creature’s swollen, leaking labial folds. She did puke when the musky stench of the giant’s arousal hit her. She was still hacking up chunks of vomit as the huge creature shoved Mara’s head inside her sex. Damp cunt lips slid across her face and soaked her hair, cool flesh squeezing appreciatively around her. The female Zombie Factory let out a deep laugh as she wedged Mara’s flailing body deeper inside her, using the Jedi as a human-sized dildo.

Mara’s already nightmarish experience grew worse as the giant rammed her halfway up her clenching cunt. A flood of juices poured over her, soaking her thoroughly and triggering another series of dry heaves. The survivors not too busy trying to keep themselves alive were treated to the disturbing sight of Mara’s legs kicking out from the giant’s crotch, slowly sinking upwards as the Zombie Factory clenched her inner muscles and drew the woman deeper inside her. Mara was half-smothered and very nearly crushed as she was pulled through the giant’s cervix and deposited into her womb. She beat against the fleshy walls of her sickening prison, reaching out with everything she had for even a hint of the Force but finding no signs of the unifying energy.

The air within the Zombie Factory’s womb grew putrid and stale as the sac filled with fluids. It wasn’t long before Mara was swimming in the embryonic juices. Her struggles grew frantic as her chest burned from lack of air. The last of her oxygen escaped her lips in a flurry of bubbles and she sucked down her first gulp of the fluid a moment later. Her body floated lifelessly within the giant’s womb, awaiting reanimation. When it came, Mara would experience a second birth, depositing her gooey body back into the world to serve the Legions of the Undead.

Rushing in to try to defeat the Deathscythe before he could reach the bunker’s entrance proved to be a fatal choice for Camilla. The thing looked more or less like any other zombie, with the exception of his right arm. The limb was mutated into a bone-blade that stretched nearly to the ground. Unleashing a magical attack on the monster, Camilla discovered – much like the Sorceress had – that some skills simply had no effect on some creatures. The revelation shocked her. Enough so that she didn’t have time to get clear of the Deathsythe’s counter-attack. The bone-blade slashed down on her with blinding speed. Camilla’s body snapped rigid, wide eyes staring into the gruesome face of her murderer. One eye rolled back while the other rolled down. Her clothing peeled apart from the seam cut through her body, exposing her bare flesh to the Deathsycthe. The creature far preferred what came next, as the two halves of Camilla’s body separated, dropping away from one another and crumbling to the ground at his feet.

Kimberly Hart rushed for the bunker’s main entrance, determined to lend whatever assistance she could to the fight, regardless of whether or not she could call on the power of Zordon to assist her. In her haste, she nearly didn’t notice Bathory. If she’d passed the sadistic doctor by, she’d have lived a little longer – not much, though. “Hey,” she called, drawing Bathory’s attention. “You’re supposed to be working on a way to defeat these things. Why aren’t you in your lab?”

Bathory grimaced behind her medical mask. She offered Kim no response as she tried to move past the young woman. Her anger spiked as Kim grabbed her by the arm.

“Don’t ignore me,” Kimberly pressed. “Are you trying to sneak out of here or something?” She shook her head. “No way. No way do you get to cut and run when the rest of us are dying trying to save this place.” She turned to call out to a nearby group of survivors.

Bathory decided that cutting and running was exactly the proper course of action. Sliding a scalpel into her hand, she brought her arm up and made a quick slash across Kim’s throat before the woman could draw any attention to them. Kim’s eyes bulged as hot blood flowed down her chest. Bathory purred with delight, pressing her latest victim into the wall. “So sorry,” she mockingly hissed. “But you brought this on yourself.” The sight of Kimberly’s blood stirred Bathory’s bloodlust. She tugged down her mask and leaned in, wiggling her tongue against the gash and grinding her crotch against the young woman’s thigh as she held her in her final moments.

In the rising chaos surrounding them, no one noticed the murder.

Commander Shepard handled the disorientation of sudden teleportation in stride. The sudden transition from one universe to another plopped her right into the middle of the ongoing battle taking place outside the Bunker. Shepard had no idea what was going on or what fresh hell the Big Man looming before her was, but as the obese zombie’s belly split open to allow his animated intestines to slither towards her, she knew it was a threat in need of dispatching. Unclipping a grenade from her belt, she activated the explosive device and chucked it into the gaping maw before her. “Swallow this,” she muttered, unable to keep the hint of a smirk from her face.

The Big Man exploded, showering Shepard in chunks of gore and – far worse – the built up stomach acids the creature had been producing. Her smirk transformed into a look of agonized terror as her skin burned. Her armor sizzled and deteriorated, falling in smoking chunks around her. She screamed, watching the flesh dripping from her hands and her breasts melting away. Her feet sank into the pool of digestive juices, spreading out into reddish pools. The tough warrior became a disgraceful sobbing wreck as her body dissolved into a puddle of indecipherable slop.

Shih-na screamed as the zombie clinging to her back plunged his throbbing prick up her ass. Shepard’s sudden appearance and equally sudden death had provided just enough of a distraction to allow the undead man to get the jump on her. She stretched out her arm, fingers desperately clawing for the gun she’d dropped as she’d fallen. She screamed again as the zombie’s teeth dug into her shoulder, chewing away a bloody chunk of meat. A chill ran through her as the bite – and what it would lead to – registered in her mind. Straining even harder, Shih-na managed to grab her pistol. “Not like that,” she whimpered, pulling the barrel of the weapon under her chin and squeezing the trigger without hesitation. The top of her head exploded, spraying her brains out. She slumped into a lightly twitching husk as the zombie continued to plunder her tight ass.

Shih-na’s anal violation had been painfully, but it couldn’t hope to compare to the shameful agony Nero Claudius felt as the Undead Man-Horse plunged his stallion-esque prick into her broken cunt. Her stomach distended obscenely as the flat cockhead pounded ever deeper into her body. Her legs kicked out weakly, in too much pain to put up much of a struggle. She blinked the tears from her eyes, reaching up to paw at the slick flesh of the Man-Horse’s underside. A rolling, grunting gurgle rushed up her throat as yet another buck of the cock sent the massive member exploding from just beneath her ribs. The twitching member slid through her cleavage, spraying the underside of her chin with creamy spunk as the woman shuddered into death on the huge prick.

Savoring the ecstasy of release as he felt Nero dying around his member, the Man-Horse let out a triumphant cry, twisting his lancer-like arm through Celes Chere’s gut as he hefted her squirming form into the air. Pulling his arm back, he drew the dying young woman towards him, allowing her to rest atop the horse-like lower portion of his abomination of a form. The fused flesh of horse and man was seamless, creating the sickest kind of conjoined not-twins. Keeping his lance arm skewered through Celes’ body, he used his more normal hand to tear through her skirt and pull her trembling snatch onto his more human-like member. The Man-Horse cackled into Celes’ slackening face as he enjoyed the feeling of two sexy victims stuffed onto each of his cocks.

The Flesh Weaver Brood Mother snatched up Sabine Wren, carrying the young woman up the side of a building as she shredded the clothing from her body. Sabine groaned, face constricting with pained horror as the giant spider’s proboscis pushed violently up her asshole. The battle had disturbed the Flesh Weaver nest, necessitating defense and a rapid migration. The Brood Mother pumped her proboscis up Sabine’s rear, squeezing eggs into her intestinal tract. The short-haired woman groaned in disgust as her slender belly began to distend, lumpy bulges pressing against her skin as she grew bloated with the unhatched offspring of the terrible arachnid.

“Sabine!” Hera Syndulla called out as she saw what was happening to her friend. The green-skinned Twi’lek lifted her blaster and fired rapidly into the Brood Mother’s swollen backside. The giant spider released a pained shriek, proboscis yanking free from Sabine’s stretched anus and flinging a few more eggs into the air. The Brood Mother’s hold on Sabine loosened, allowing the woman to slip free. Hera darted forward, dropping her blaster and catching Sabine as she fell. The two collapsed to the ground but didn’t stay there for long. Hera helped Sabine to her feet. “What did it do to you?” she asked, helplessly staring at her friend’s bulging gut.

Sabine groaned, clutching her hands to her belly, obscenely pregnant with the Brood Mother’s many children. Her stomach lurched as the eggs began to hatch within her. Her eyes widened, cheeks ballooning out before expelling two baby Flesh Weavers. She had enough presence of mind to shove Hera away from her before any of the little nightmares could attack the Twi’lek. She stumbled back, leaning against the side of the building, pain consuming her as the Flesh Weavers devoured her from within. She slid down the wall, landing on her aching, spider-leaking ass. As her vision faded, she caught sight of Hera’s concerned face just before a Hell Flyer swooped down to rip it from the Twi’lek’s body.

Sabine’s corpse collapsed in on itself as the Flesh Weavers spilled out of her, leaving behind little more than loose flaps of skin clinging to meatless bones. The horde of tiny spiders got their bearings fast, making a hasty retreat from the heat of battle. It was just bad luck that Kat Weber, Amanda Jones, and Hannah Duffy were in their way. The trio closed in together, startled by the sea of spiders they suddenly found themselves standing in. A few of the more aggressive hatchlings attacked, springing onto the women and spraying their webbing onto them. People who knew them had said that Kat, Amanda, and Hannah were inseparable. The Flesh Weavers ensured that they were quite literally that, pulling them into a tight embrace with one another. The young women’s sobs became desperate gasps for air as the webbing surrounding their bodies tightened. Their feet tangled together and they tipped over onto the ground, a writhing threesome of rapidly suffocating flesh.

Cassie Cage pressed a hand to the gash on her arm. As far as wounds went, she’d had worse, but the mounting chaos outside had shaken her confidence enough to do the sane thing and try to find some medical assistance. The hall to Bathory’s lab was deserted. Not surprising with the primary focus of the survivors either being defending the main hatch or hunkering down. And there weren’t many wounded making it back inside to bother the doctor. She pounded her fist on the lab’s hatch. “You better be ready with that good shit, Doc,” she called as she forced the passage open and moved inside. “Cuz the way things are looking, I’m ready to get all kinds of high.”

Cassie’s brow furrowed with confusion as she entered the lab, seeing no sign of Bathory. She did see the evidence of a bloody fight. Moving further into the lab, she heard a soft beeping coming from the terminal Bathory had set up for herself. Cassie made her way over to the computer, hoping it might be able to shed some light on what had happened and where their doctor had fucked off to. Instead, all it showed her was a timer ticking its way towards zero.

3… 2…

“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidd – “

The explosion ripped Cassie apart before she had a chance to finish her statement. A plume of fire escaped the open hatch and blackened the walls of the hall beyond as the reverberations of the blast sent a shudder throughout the entirety of the Bunker.


The apartment building’s sub-basement was far from the most luxurious of locations, but it was far enough from the Bunker to be safe – safe-ish – from the onslaught of horrors ravaging the place. “And who knows?” Bathory remarked with an amused appraisal of her new surroundings. “With a few fashionable touches, this place could truly feel like home. Wouldn’t you agree?” She turned to Nancy Callahan – just coming around from the sedative she’d been given – and grinned behind her medical mask.

Taking the time to acquire a fresh specimen during her escape from the Bunker hadn’t been the wisest course of action, but after the sweet but oh so brief pleasure she’d taken from snuffing out Kimberly, she’d known she couldn’t walk away without taking a treat for the road. She ran her gloved fingers over the blonde stripper’s large breasts, tickling at her nipples. Nancy yelled into the dirty rag gagging her mouth, jerking from side to side on the wooden table Bathory had tied her to.

“Yes, I know,” Bathory nodded. “But I’m working on kind of a budget here. Don’t worry. I still have enough tools to make your suffering into an exquisite symphony.” Drawing a scalpel, Bathory leaned over Nancy and touched the blade to her collar bone. She gave the stripper a sympathetic shrug. “No anesthetic, I’m afraid. But you look like a strong Aryan woman. You will endure.”

Nancy screamed into her gag as Bathory began to carve into her.




Apologies for falling behind with posting chapters here. With Gurochan being down so often last month, I kinda forgot. Bonus: Lots of chapters to catch up on!


Chapter Forty-One: The Dangers of Docking

The boat was old, but it was the only one that looked remotely seaworthy to Izumi Curtis. She’d not been in the Necropolis long, but she’d seen enough of the place to know it was certain death if she stuck around for too long. Getting home didn’t seem like an option, but the nearby dock could at least provide a way out of the city. Maybe find an island that wasn’t so hostile to lay low until she could figure out what had brought her to the nightmarish realm. Of course, I won’t be going anywhere if I can’t find a way to get this rust bucket started, she thought, pulling out drawers and poking her head into dark corners in search of keys. The radio clipped to her side continued its incessant buzz of static. She’d found it shortly after arriving in the Necropolis and had managed to tinker with it enough to almost get something that resembled a solid signal. She’d caught momentary half-words from someone who was broadcasting, but not enough to make out what they were saying.

Izumi quickly clicked the radio off when she heard thudding footsteps against the deck over her head. She had no reason to think anyone or anything in the Necropolis was friendly. The closest thing she’d seen to ‘friendly’ had been the very dead and thoroughly molested corpse she’d spotted on her way to the dock. Yuffie had been reduced to little more than bloody bones by the time she’d come across the body, but even those had been left glazed with what she could only assume was the ejaculate of the creatures infesting the dead city. With no real means to defend herself, Izumi frantically searched for someplace to hide. Finding a locker, she wedged herself inside and pulled the door mostly shut, squinting through the thin slats in the metal to see what fresh hell was coming to try to kill her.


Arriving at the docks to find mostly picked over and wrecked vessels was a blow to Scout Party Alpha’s morale, but they were used to such things. “At least it doesn’t look like there’s any Bad Boys around,” Alice offered her team as they climbed onto the only boat that looked worth a damn. It wasn’t nearly big enough to hold the Bunker survivors, but it might be good enough to ride down the coast in search of a way out of the city, or maybe to find a bigger vessel that could hold everyone. Regardless, they’d fought through too much bullshit to simply give up.

Fuuka’s brow furrowed, a frown filling her face.

“Trouble?” Alice asked.

She shook her head. “Not sure. But someone else is on this boat.” She pointed to the hatch leading into the vessel. “Down there.”

Finding other survivors outside of the Bunker wasn’t exactly rare, but it was a crap shoot. Their brief encounter with Gogo Yubari had proven that. They’d only just taken out the trio of zombies hastily stripping the young Japanese woman before she’d turned on them violently. The psychotic rage had caught even Kay-Em off guard. The gash Gogo had carved across Alice’s arm was still healing and would leave a scar, but she hardly needed it to remind her of the lessons she’d learned that day. One: Trust in the Necropolis had to be earned. Two: Homura was a goddamn badass. As the rest of them had been scrambling to handle the feisty Japanese girl, Homura had swiftly drawn a massive revolver and blown Gogo’s head off with three quick shots.

Sometimes Alice wished the Bunker Commanders took more head of that first lesson. Desperate times and all that, but she knew for a fact that there were at least a few bad apples in the batch of survivors. They may have been playing nice – for the most part – but she doubted that would last forever. All the more reason to find a way out of this shit hole, she thought. “Alright, we move in slow,” she told the others. “Be ready for anything, but don’t get trigger happy. No point in killing someone if we don’t have to.”


Izumi let out a startled yelp as the locker door was yanked open and she found herself staring down the barrels of several guns. She threw her hands up, hoping the small team of mismatched survivors weren’t as unfriendly as they looked. “Don’t shoot!” she cried out.

Alice eased up off her trigger. The woman didn’t look like trouble. Neither did that Japanese chick, she reminded herself. “Have you been bitten or scratched by any of the monsters?” She paused before adding in another potential avenue for infection. “Or fucked?”

Izumi shook her head. “No, I’ve not been here that long. I got lucky.”

“Luckier than you realize,” Alice said, lowering her weapon. Gotta take a chance every once in a while, she thought, nodding to Kay-Em and Homura to lower their guns, too. “My name’s – “

The introductions were cut short as the boat jerked, throwing Izumi from the locker and nearly toppling the Scouting Party. Wood creaked and metal strained as something battered against the vessel’s hull. Alice didn’t need a verbal answer from Fuuka. The wide-eyed look on her face said everything. “Everybody move!”

The group made a mad dash for the stairs leading up to the deck. Sharp cracks and the roar of water filled the air. Debris was thrown about as more than a dozen thick tendrils punched their way into the boat, whipping about with frantic fury. One thick tendril took a swipe at the group. Alice launched herself over the appendage while Homura rolled under it. Kay-Em grabbed Izumi and Fuuka, pulling them into a crouch with her before getting right back to running. Alice reached the stairs first and ushered the others up before following along, feeling her stomach lurch as the rapidly sinking vessel shifted to starboard.

The escape across the deck was just as chaotic. Tentacles erupted from the water and through the vessel. Scrambling across the boat, avoiding swipes that would shatter bones and pulp organs, the group managed to leap from the boat and back onto the dock. Alice looked back to watch as the tentacles curled around the boat, ripping it apart and yanking it down beneath the swirling waves. The thought that whatever massive creature was responsible for the abrupt destruction would be satisfied with simply wrecking the vessel seemed too much to hope for. “We’ve gotta get off of this dock.”

The words barely passed her lips before the creature surged up onto the end of the dock. It looked like the result of a whale violently raped by an octopus. A single, massive eye in the center of its head swirled about lazily before fixing on the five tasty morsels before it. Its mouth stretched open, teeth the size and relatively shape of tombstones glistening with the sea water gushing out of it. Scout Party Alpha – along with Izumi – scattered as the Doom Whale slapped several of its thick appendages into the dock. Shattered wood and warm water obscured the group from sight for several precious moments as they each did what they could to avoid becoming greasy smears of gore.

With no weapons and no combat training, Fuuka made a mad dash for the safety of solid ground. She winced as a splinter of wood pierced her thigh, thankful that it wasn’t big enough to take her leg off or cripple her. She limped her way down the dock, shuddering as her body was soaked with water from another of Doom Whale’s violent thrashes. Her abilities allowed her to instinctively know when she’d reached relative safety. She yelped as she pried the bloody shard of wood from her leg and turned back to realize that she’d been the only one to make it to the start of the dock.

Izumi cried out as one of the Doom Whale’s thinner tendrils looped around her ankle and plucked her into the air. She swayed wildly, arms stretched out for the half-destroyed dock. The radio clipped to her belt slipped free but she managed to grab it. It seemed like a stupid thing to do. The thing had only spit garbled mess at her and it wouldn’t save her from the massive aquatic creature, but she clung to it like a protective boon all the same. Another tentacle slapped between her breasts, hard enough to knock the air from her lungs and leave her chest aching. Salty slime smeared across her face as the length of tentacle slid across her. She tried to turn away from the offending length of squirming flesh, squeezing her eyes shut and preparing for whatever terrible fate the creature had in store for her.

They may have only just found the woman, but Alice wasn’t about to let another survivor die. They could sort out if she was friend or foe later, but they had to deal with the nightmarish whale-thing first. Fuuka was in the clear, she’d seen that. She was spread out from Kay-Em and Homura, but now that the Doom Whale had snagged some prey, it seemed to be calming down a little, shifting its focus. “Alright,” she called to the others. “Let’s turn this salty bitch into sushi!” Alice brought her rifle up to her shoulder and got a clean aim on the tendril holding Izumi’s foot, cracking off a few rounds. Kay-Em joined in a moment later, unleashing a barrage of hot lead from her mini-pistol into the creature. Homura exchanged her twin pistols for something with better stopping power; a combat shotgun with shredder rounds.

Alice and Kay-Em shifted their aim, working to distract the Doom Whale as Homura moved in. Her shredder rounds cut through the thing’s thick flesh efficiently, but the shotgun needed her to get uncomfortably close to the monstrosity. Alice and the android managed to put enough hurt on the Doom Whale to shift its focus to them. Tentacles wisped through the air and smashed against the dock as it tried to swat away the pesky annoyance. It released a rumbling roar of pain and annoyance as Homura managed to shoot her way through the tentacle holding Izumi. Izumi fell, turning in the air to hit the dock in the least painful way. Homura was at her side in a flash, helping her up and pulling her back down the dock.

Just as she was about to make her own retreat, Alice found herself coming the new focus of the Doom Whale. Her aim shifted fast to shoot away the tentacles surging towards her, but even with Kay-Em’s help there were too many of the things. She let out a yell as one of them smacked her rifle from her hands, grunting as several more looped around her arms and legs. Alice clenched her jaw as she was pulled into the air, tugging hard at the slimy tendrils gripping her. She cried out as the tentacles tightened, almost hard enough to break her bones. “Little help,” she called out to the others, doing her best to fight back the very real fear of death.

One of the tendrils slithered down the neck of Alice’s bodysuit, slithering against her skin before flicking forward to rip through the hardened fabric. Her small breasts were revealed, thick nipples teased to unwanted stiffness as the tentacle dragged across them. “Fuck off!” she yelled at the thing, twisting from side to side, desperately trying to find a way to squirm free of its embrace. She stifled a groan as another tendril smacked between her kicking legs, rubbing hard against her crotch. The thick length pressed into the crack of her ass, dragging between her firm buttocks before drawing back to mash the blunt tip against her rear. She jerked her hips to the side, screwing up its aim briefly but finding it impossible to keep the tentacle from continuing its persistent prodding.

With Homura still ferrying Izumi to safety, Kay-Em was well aware she was the only thing between Alice and a gruesome end. The android shut down certain emotional response sub-routines – specifically the ones that had been developing since she’d begun her more intimate encounters with Alice – and focused on the primary goal of: Keep Team Leader Safe. Even without the sub-routines in play, the task proved frustrating. The Doom Whale had learned what a nuisance the team could be and was doing everything it could to shift Alice’s body to keep her between the tendrils holding her. Kay-Em muttered out a string of curses as she hopped from one section of broken dock to the next, trying to get a clean shot.

Kay-Em didn’t need any verbal indicators that Alice’s time was running out, but she got one anyway as the tendril pressing against the woman’s rear managed to rip through the crotch of her bodysuit. Alice’s eyes bulged, letting loose with a horrified shriek as the tip of the tentacle wedged its way into her tight asshole. The layer of slime coating the ropey length made the penetration easier, but no less horrifying. In the time since her arrival, Alice had witnessed more violent rape than she could stomach, but she’d managed to avoid being the target of it. She’d started to let foolish thoughts creep into her mind. Like she was too quick, too tough, too lucky to endure such a horrible fate. As the thick tentacle fed further up her rear, stretching out her sphincter and plundering the depths of her bowels, Alice realized she wasn’t nearly that special.

“Get the fuck out!” Alice tried to maintain her strength and nearly managed it. Only the crack in her voice at the end of her defiant statement gave a hint of how scared she was as the tentacle pounded its way further up her ass. She clenched her rear as hard as she could, trying to limit the tendril’s progress, but the slickness of the slime covering the offending appendage made it impossible. She tilted her head forward, stomach swirling with unease as she watched the bulge of her intestines against the front of her bodysuit. The only spark of relief she had came from the fact that the Doom Whale wasn’t simply hammer its way straight through her, destroying her from within. She could still survive the encounter. But her team needed to move fast.

Alice retched as the tentacle invaded her stomach. Bile and half-digested protein bar gushed from her lips and splattered messily across her breasts. A wet gurgle crept up her throat as the tendril continued its journey through her body, forcing the front of her neck to bulge as it wiggled up the clenching orifice. Her eyes crossed, staring at the tip of the tentacle as it emerged from her lips. She clenched her teeth, trying to cause the Doom Whale pain however she could. The explosion of raw fish and salty sea that poured down her throat was enough to get her puking again, but the thick length kept the bile trapped in her belly. Tears welled up in her eyes – from the pain and the humiliating horror – but she blinked them back. Please, don’t let me die like this, she thought, knowing that it was very likely that she would. Not like this.

The Doom Whale’s tentacle pumped its way through Alice from ass to mouth. Her body shifted from the fuck-motions, sucking in desperate gasps of air anytime the tendril receded enough to let her do so. Her body squirmed and shuddered, small breasts jiggling and nipples standing out distinctly. She felt nothing close to pleasure from the assault, and for that, she was thankful. Even if the Doom Whale killed her, she could take some small comfort from the fact that it hadn’t forced her to get off on it. She’d seen it happen to other survivors, seen how it shattered their minds to orgasm as they’d been violently raped and murdered. It wasn’t much of a victory, but as the tendrils around her limbs tightened and stretched her, threatening to rip her apart, Alice figured it might be the last victory she’d ever get.

Kay-Em could see Alice’s time was running out almost as easily as Alice could feel it. Still finding it impossible to get a clear shot on the tendrils snaring the woman, she’d taken to unloading into the Doom Whale’s mouth, hoping it would cause enough pain to get the thing to let Alice go. So far, so bad. Synthetic relief flooded through her as Homura returned with gifts in hand. The young woman tossed an RPG to the android. Kay-Em dropped her mini-pistol and caught the weapon, flashing Homura a thankful smirk. Homura drew an RPG for herself from her mystical shield, dropping to one knee to brace herself for the recoil. Kay-Em didn’t require such a pose, locking the servos in her legs in place. The pair fired within moments of each other, sending a couple explosive devices right down the Doom Whale’s gaping gullet.

Smoke and flames billowed from the Doom Whale’s massive mouth, drawing a rumbling groan from it but doing little to loosen Alice from its grip. Homura kept on focusing on the creature’s central mass while Kay-Em darted in closer, dodging and weaving through a dozen frenzied tentacles in order to get a good shot at the ones holding their leader. She fired off another shot with the RPG, turning the base of the tendril violating Alice into a charred stump. Then she focused on the ones holding her limbs, blowing them into charred chunks of meat. Kay-Em stayed on the move, rushing forward as Alice dropped. Lowering the RPG, she sprang into the air and hooked an arm around Alice, catching her and bringing her down to the dock in as smooth a fashion as she could.

Kay-Em lowered Alice, setting her weapon aside as she hastily helped get the dead tentacle out of the woman. Alice gagged hard around the still squirming length, hands pressing against the tip to force it back down her throat so she could breathe. Kay-Em rolled Alice over, gripping the base of the tendril emerging from the woman’s ass like some kind of grotesque tail, and carefully tugged the thing out of her. As the tip sank back down her throat, Alice gasped and coughed. She groaned as the thick appendage was drawn from her aching asshole. Her ears rang with the explosions of Homura’s RPG and the Doom Whale’s angry roars, her body throbbed from the thorough abuse it had suffered, but she was alive. Her team had done it.

The last thing Alice wanted to do as the Doom Whale’s tentacle left her ass was stand, but she did so anyway. “Thanks,” she panted to Kay-Em, making a mental note to express her gratitude to Homura, too. “Now let’s get – “

Her words were cut off as the Doom Whale snatched Kay-Em into its grip. The sudden snaring conjured a look of surprise from the android as she was pulled into the air before being promptly slammed into the dock. The Doom Whale continued its act of revenge, smashing Kay-Em into the wood several more times before releasing her. Sparks shot from her mangled, broken body, synthetic skin torn away to reveal the metal exoskeleton beneath. Alice tried to dart in and pull Kay-Em to safety, but the tentacle returned one last time, slamming down into the android’s gut hard enough to split her in half. Kay-Em’s kicking legs skidded off the side of the dock and into the sea. Her upper half nearly followed after them, but she managed to grab hold of a bent docking post with one hand.

Even with her abilities, it took Fuuka some time to properly assess the Doom Whale. Watching Alice’s brutal rape and near death, followed by Kay-Em’s destruction didn’t make it any easier. She shook her head as she watched Homura continue to fire RPG rounds into the beast’s mouth, already knowing it was a futile effort. “No!” she called, finally locking in on the Doom Whale’s weak point. “That pale patch! On the left side! Aim there!”

Alice snatched up Kay-Em’s discarded RPG and rushed to Homura’s side. She didn’t know if the android was still alive or not, but she couldn’t waste time to check. The feel of the salty air against her bare breasts and throbbing ass did its best to distract her, but she couldn’t worry about her modesty in the moment, either. With a clear target to aim for, she and Homura leveled their weapons and unloaded. The first fiery blast drew a higher pitched whine from the Doom Whale, the first sound of genuine pain it had made. They kept up the assault. Despite how badly the dock encounter had gone, Alice even managed a smirk as the pale patch of flesh ripped open and let loose a gush of dark blue blood into the sloshing water. Three more RPG rounds sealed the Doom Whale’s fate. It lifted itself out of the water, let out a final echoing roar, and slumped lifeless onto the destroyed dock, tendrils fluttering and twitching as the last of its life faded away.

“Well, that could’ve gone better.”

Although her voice was a little wobbly and tinged with a sizzle of static, Kay-Em sounded surprisingly good for having been battered and ripped in half. Alice hurried over to her.

“You look like shit,” she offered, trying to break the tension with a bit of brevity. Trying to pull what remained of Kay-Em’s body away from the post proved impossible. The android’s motor-servos had locked up completely. The fact that she’d managed to grab hold of anything was a small miracle.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll ever walk again, that’s for sure,” Kay-Em quipped back as Alice tried to pry her fingers away from the post. She stretched her eyes to observe the effort. “You don’t have time for that. Find something to cut my head off with.”

Alice gave the android a confused look. “Seriously?”

“I’ll be fine,” Kay-Em assured her. “I’ll be less help in a firefight, but other than that, everything I need to maintain operation is locked behind this pretty face of mine. Go for it.”

Alice sighed and turned to Homura. “Got anything for that?”

The sullen-faced young woman reached into her impossible shield, feeling around for a moment before drawing forth a katana. She handed the weapon over with a brief flicker of reluctance. She glanced to Kay-Em, sudden sadness filling her eyes. “I hope this is the last time I witness someone losing their head…”

“Technically, I’m losing my body,” Kay-Em replied, offering the girl a friendly smile. The smile remained, flickering only slightly, as Alice slashed the katana into her neck, cleaving her head from the rest of her mangled husk. “See? Didn’t even hurt!”

Alice handed the sword back to Homura, scooping Kay-Em’s head into her arms as Fuuka and Izumi risked coming back down the dock.

“We need to leave,” Fuuka announced.

“Not arguing with you,” Alice replied.

Fuuka stretched a finger out to sea. “Now.”

Alice and the others turned, seeing the rippling waves coming towards them and the dark masses of three more Doom Whales coming to shore to investigate the death of one of their kind. It was more than enough to get the team moving.


“As I was saying,” Alice said to Izumi once they’d gotten a safe distance from the docks. “I’m Alice Abernathy.” She nodded to the rest of her team in turn. “Homura, the total badass. Fuuka, who gives us a fighting chance. And Kay-Em, the talking head.” She tugged the shorts up her legs, feeling a little better now that her crotch wasn’t completely exposed. Raiding the clothing store and stashing a few spare articles in Homura’s shield had proven valuable after all. Pulling the t-shirt over her head, Alice looked down at it and frowned, both from the clearly visible protrusions of her nipples against the fabric, as well as the pop-art of a grinning girl in pigtails sitting in front of a plate that had a cartoon fish on it. Despite what the slogan said, she did not currently ‘Love Fishies’.

“I’m Izumi Curtis,” their new companion replied. “Thanks for rescuing me back there.”

“What’s with the radio?” Kay-Em asked, currently propped on the hood of a car.

Izumi looked down at the radio she was holding, realizing that she’d not released her grip on it since being snagged by the Doom Whale. “Oh,” she gasped. “I found it.”

“Does it work?” Alice asked.

“Kind of,” Izumi replied, flicking the radio back on. “Mostly just static. I thought I heard someone broadcasting, but I couldn’t make it out. I was able to tinker with it and boost the signal a bit, but I’m not sure if it’s enough.” She glanced up at the group, feeling the need to convince them that she’d been worth the effort they’d made to keep her safe. “I’m usually really good at repairing things. There’s not much I can’t fix.”

That statement seemed to spark something in Homura. The young woman looked to her shield. “Do you think – “

Before she could finish her question, Izumi’s radio released a burst of static that faded into the voice of a woman. “This Kaya in the Sky-a, calling out to the ragged tag team of destruction who just caused some serious mayhem at the docks. Can you hear me? Please, say you can hear me.”

The group shared a look of surprised confusion. Izumi offered the radio to Alice, who promptly took it. “This is Alice Abernathy. Who is this?”

“Look, I can’t hear you, but I can see you talking into the radio, so I’m just gonna hope you can actually hear me,” the voice replied. “I’m stuck in this… It’s weird. Don’t worry about it. I’m safe. You’re not. I’m gonna try to fix that. The docks are no good. You know that already. But one of these monitors up here… I don’t think I was supposed to see it, but I did. There is a way out of that city. A bridge. Best I can tell, it’s north of your current position. It won’t be a fun walk, but if you can get there, you can escape.” The transmission cut off for a few moments as the crew’s confusion blended with the desperate need for hope. “Look, I can’t hear you, okay?” Kaya continued. “So if you’ve got the message, give me a thumbs up or something.”

Alice looked to the others. “She’s not from the Bunker.”

“Can we trust her?” Fuuka asked.

“Can we afford to not trust her?” Homura shot back.

Alice glanced over to Kay-Em. “What say you, Talking Head?”

“Not sure if I’m a fan of the new nickname,” Kay-Em replied. “But we’re fresh outta plans, Boss. I say we give Kaya in the Sky-a a shot.”

With a sigh, Alice gave their mysterious benefactor a thumbs up and hoped she wouldn’t regret it.


Chapter Forty-Two: Samus Aran

Everything was going to shit.

The last frantic report Samus Aran had heard told her that the frontline of defense outside the Bunker had nearly been overrun. Whoever was still out there was doing what they could to get back inside, but even the safety of the armored hatch wouldn’t keep the survivors safe for long. Miranda was dead. D.Va and her formidable mech were gone. She’d even heard that some poor redheaded woman had been teleported into the fray only to be promptly turned into a puddle of goo by a Big Man. Then, as if to add injury to nearly certain defeat, something within the Bunker had exploded. Samus wondered if perhaps it might’ve been better for all of them if the explosion had leveled the Bunker over their heads, giving the survivors a relatively quick and somewhat respectable end compared to the horrors the Legions of the Undead would visit upon them.

But aside from scaring the shit out of everyone and making it a little harder to breathe in the narrow halls from the dust, the explosion hadn’t done any significant damage. At least, none that Samus could see. She traced the source of the explosion back to Bathory’s lab, finding the hall outside scorched from the flames. She ducked into the lab, squinting through the smoke to see what might’ve caused the destruction. As far as she knew, Bathory hadn’t been playing around with any combustible materials, but she admitted that she didn’t know much about what the doctor did. She found a button to trigger the emergency sprinklers and punched it, ignoring the cold spray of water that soaked her blonde hair and flowed across the light blue, form-fitting bodysuit she wore as the flames were doused, making it easier to navigate the destroyed lab.

Samus found several meaty chunks of blackened meat littered around the lab. She was ready to list Bathory was the sole victim of the explosion until she spotted the mangled remains of Cassie Cage’s aviator sunglasses. So the not-so-good doctor made it out, Samus thought with a frown. That’s a shame. Despite Cassie’s cocky attitude, she’d been a good fighter. Losing her was yet another indicator that life in the Bunker was rapidly drawing to a close. Tossing the broken sunglasses aside, Samus moved further into the lab, trying to see if anyone else had been caught in the blast. With the smoke still clouding her vision, she very nearly walked right into Bathory’s Zombie Pit.

The interior of the pit didn’t look nearly as scorched as the rest of the lab. Leaning over the edge to look into it, Samus spotted a tunnel against one of the walls leading into a sub-section of the Bunker. “Anyone alive down there?” she called. “Bathory?” Samus listened, thought she might’ve heard a pained groan from somewhere in the tunnel. Against her better judgement, she hopped into the pit and drew her sidearm. She’d have preferred her armor, or at least an energy blaster, but the primitive 9mm Glock was the best she had. “Bathory, if that’s you, you’d better be good enough to stitch yourself back up, because my medical training is really damn rusty.”

Stepping into the tunnel, the visual hinderance that was the smoke grew worse due to the darkness. She moved slowly, letting her eyes adjust and listening for any sounds to guide her. She managed to catch the ghostly visage of a woman deeper down the tunnel. The glimpse was brief, but she recognized the figure. “Kaldwin?” she called. “What the hell are you doing down here? We need you up there.” Emily ducked down a curve deeper in the tunnel, disappearing from view. Samus scowled. “Dammit, you’re not abandoning us, you bitch,” she muttered, quickening her steps to catch up to the woman.

With the smell of smoke clogging her nostrils, Samus didn’t detect the scent of rotting flesh until it was quite literally right on top of her. The snarling visage of Rita Bennett emerged from the darkness to Samus’s left as the undead woman launched herself from the shallow crevasse in the tunnel wall. Samus dug her shoulder into Rita’s chest, shoving her back as she tried to get her gun up. Jugghead Jones grabbed hold of her wrist, emerging from another shadowy bolt hole, and yanked the weapon away from her before working with Rita to wrestle the struggling bounty hunter to the ground. Samus dropped onto her ass hard and snapped a long leg up, catching Rita just under the chin and sending her flying back into the tunnel wall hard enough to crack the back of her skull open. Leaving behind a gooey smear of blood and blonde hair, the undead woman stumbled and flopped onto her side.

Before Samus could land a similarly fatal blow to Jugghead, the rest of Bathory’s Pit Zombies converged on her. A sharp elbow from Melissa Marr to her gut knocked the breath from Samus’s lungs, making it easier for the zombies to wrestle her down to her knees. Steve Christy worked his rotten fingers into the neck of her bodysuit and ripped downwards, freeing Samus’s smooth breasts. She winced with disgust as the man leaned in to suck at one of her nipples. Leon Kennedy clocked Samus across the back of the head with a clenched fist, forcing her onto her hands and knees and leaving her dazed. She groaned as she felt rough fingers dragging across her buttocks, digging in until enough of her suit was able to be gripped and ripped away. She twisted her head back over her shoulder to see Emily Kaldwin’s leering, undead gaze as she brought the shred of blue material up to her lips to sniff and lick.

The thick, inked form of the older Mexican man known only as Machete shoved his way behind Samus, grabbing the blonde by her hips as he smacked his throbbing erection against the inner sides of her thighs. “Shit,” Samus gasped as she fought off the daze of Leon’s blow and tried to pull free of the undead holding her down. “No!” she cried out as Machete sank several thick inches of his cock into her vulnerable snatch. He hammered his way into her dry cunt, delighting in the warm clenching of her hole and the pained shrieks each thrust forced from his victim’s lips. Leaning over her, he grabbed hold of her swaying tits, giving them a rough groping as he humped against her, finding the heat of a living cunt far superior to the cold dead ones he’d gotten to enjoy since being dumped into Bathory’s pit.

Samus groaned as her hair was gripped and her head was forced up, right into Makoto Kino’s leaking cunt. The bitter taste of the young woman’s juices dribbled over her lips and onto her tongue, making her want to puke. Samus jerked her head away from Makoto’s grip, only to find Tommy Doyle’s throbbing prick waiting for her. He grabbed her by the jaw, forcing her mouth open and shoving his way down her throat, muffling her groans of protest as Machete continued to hammer away her from behind. While the big Mexican went to town on her, Samus’s head was pulled and turned from one crotch to the next, forced to service each of Bathory’s Pit Zombies in turn.

With a grunt, Machete slammed his full length into Samus’s snatch and painted her quivering inner walls with his seed. He withdrew from her cum-slickened slit and was quickly replaced by Leon. The blonde zombie picked up where Machete had left off, sliding into Samus and starting up a punishing rhythm of hard strokes. The bounty hunter whimpered around Jugghead’s member, full breasts swaying beneath her as she endured her second rape. When she tried to break free, the small pack of zombies had some fun kicking her into submission, all while Leon continued his thrusts.

Shortly after Leon finished draining his balls into the writhing woman, the zombies wrestled Samus over onto her back. Melissa was quick to drop her putrid snatch onto the bounty hunter’s face, muffling her groans of protest and nearly smothering her in the rancid stench of her rotten cunt. Steve mounted her chest, sliding between her smooth cleavage and mashing her large tits around his cock while Jugghead dropped between her legs. Samus managed to work one leg up and kick him away, but that only led to Emily and Tommy pinning her legs open so that their fellow zombie could make a second, more successful attempt.

As the pack of zombies continued to have their way with her, Samus did her best to focus on two very important things. The first, none of the things had bitten her yet. She’d never seen anyone survive a sexual encounter with a zombie, but she knew getting bit would seal her fate regardless of how quickly she could get away. So if she could escape before they got nippy, she would have a chance at survival. The second was the swirling ball of rage that was stoked hotter each time one of the thing’s shoved something inside her. If she struck at the right time, and was very lucky, she could use that anger to her advantage. Keeping it in check – especially as she felt one load of cum after the next pumped into her – was a struggle, but it was the only thing Samus had left.

Cum drooled steadily from Samus’s cunt as the male zombies kept taking turns with her. Even Dan Cain attempted a few times, grinding the ragged stump of his cock against her gooey slit until he unloaded a few messy spurts of spunk across her swollen labial folds and blonde pubic hair. She felt bloated with the undead spunk. Her face was nearly as messy, smeared with drool and pre-cum and pussy juices. But as disgusted as she felt, none of it could diminish the icy glare from Samus’s eyes. The things were getting tired. She could sense it. And none of them had sunk their teeth into her yet. It was time to make a move and hope for the best.

The Pit Zombies had been clever enough to lure Samus into a trap, but they weren’t clever enough to sense the trap she’d been planning for them in turn. When the nearly limp bounty hunter suddenly sprang into action, it caught them off guard. Samus flung Melissa from the perch she’d taken on her sweaty tits and threw her legs up, snapping her thighs closed around Steve’s neck. The move came with the unfortunate side effect of having the undead man’s face mashed into her messy cunt for a moment, but the satisfaction she felt as she jerked her legs and snapped his neck made the whole thing worth it. Kicking his limp form into Emily, Samus shifted her weight onto her shoulders and flipped onto her feet.

Cum gushed from her thoroughly fucked cunt and rolled down the insides of her thighs, but she ignored that sickening feeling. She spun, drawing a leg up and kicking Dan’s teeth through the back of his head. Makoto lunged for her. Samus slammed the palm of her hand into the young woman’s nose, driving shards of bone into her brain and leaving her to flop against the tunnel wall. A quick glance back the way she’d come showed the bounty hunter the remaining Pit Zombies. The prolonged sexual assault had her more tired than she cared to admit and the chance of getting bit on her way through the small pack was too great to chance. She turned and darted deeper into the tunnel, hoping she could find a way out – or at least something to defend herself with – before the zombies caught up to her.


Chapter Forty-Three: Mercy

Mercy would never know the truth of how Widowmaker’s sudden disappearance for the battlefield saved her life. She’d been saved from the sniper’s bullet, but even that unintended act of salvation did not go unnoticed by the Omni. It took the being some time to return to the sexy blonde that had so briefly caught its eye, but not nearly long enough to save Mercy from discovering – in a way – a cruel reality of the reality warping presence. The Omni rarely gaveth, but it so often tooketh. It took Mercy from yet another battlefield, plopping her in the midst of another.

Mercy’s robotic wings shuddered from the disorientation of teleportation, very nearly causing her to drop from the sky. The nausea she felt from being ripped from her reality and into another was strengthened as she took in the various horrid sights of slaughter and depravity surrounding her. Bodies of women and monsters littered the ground. Some of those bodies were in the midst of being graphically violated. With no context to draw from, Mercy had no idea what was happening, but it was very easy to see who the aggressors were and promptly choose a side. It was clearly the losing side, but she hoped she could do something to change that.

Considering the number of heavy hitters taken out during the course of the battle, it was some kind of blind luck that had kept Camille Montes alive. She doubted it would hold out for much longer as more and more of her companions fell or retreated back to the relative safety of the Bunker. She’d been on her way there, too, when she’d been cut off by a couple of the skittering Flesh Weavers that had crawled out of Sabine. She’d managed to shoot and stomp them into gooey paste, but not before having a length of flesh ripped from her calf. Clutching a hand to her bleeding leg, she limped along, trying to stay ahead of the zombie pack shuffling towards her.

Mercy swooped in just as the zombies reached Camille, firing off several quick shots with her blaster that brought the monstrosities down. “I’ve got you,” she assured Camille, holstering her blaster and swinging her Caduceus staff around to direct a healing ray of light across her partially skinned leg. Camille gasped with shocked relief as her tissue repaired itself in moments, leaving behind no trace of the wound. “I just got here. Catch me up.”

“Monsters,” Camille panted. “Killing everyone. Have to get back to the Bunker.”

“Bunker, check,” Mercy nodded. “You get there. I’m gonna try to save some more people.” Before Camille could warn her of the dangers of doing that, she took flight again, leaving the rescued woman behind. Camille silently wished her the best and darted for the Bunker’s hatch.

Mercy’s Valkyrie-suit lifted her high above the dwindling fight. Her eyes scanned for anyone else in need of rescue or healing. There were plenty of corpses, but with the attacking forces so active, she doubted she could pull of any successful resurrections, even if those abilities worked properly in whatever weird world she’d been taken to. Well, wherever I am, this place looks grim, she thought as she continued to do sweeps over the battlefield, unaware that her presence had drawn the attention of the Legions and that her airborne state would not protect her.

With so many monstrous horrors scattered before her, it was hardly Mercy’s fault that she took no notice of the Babymaker perched on a nearby rooftop. The bulk of the carnage had taken place at ground level, demanding the blonde’s focus. The Omni may have unintentionally saved Mercy from one sniper, but it had no intention of saving her from another. The creature lined up its shot on the woman, adjusting for her movement, and with near silence, fired off a glob of organic matter. The shot was as perfect as any Widowmaker had ever fired. Mercy unknowingly turned into it, the gooey substance splashing against her forehead.

Mercy jerked from the impact, breathing a sigh of relief when she realized the headshot hadn’t killed her. She brought her fingers up to her forehead, feeling only a slight bit of moisture. Her eyes fixed on the Babymaker. “Spitting on me?” she asked with a frown. “Real classy.” She was ready to swoop over and knock the thing off the rooftop when the sudden pain hit her. Mercy’s eyes bulged, screaming wildly as her hands came up to the sides of her face. Blood gushed from her nostrils and squirted from her ears as the Spawn Burster rapidly grew within her skull. Thick chunks of pulped brain dribbled from her bloody lips as her body shuddered in the air. Her eyes pushed further from their sockets as her entire head seemed to swell, reaching nearly comical proportions before abruptly popping.

Mercy’s twitching husk dropped as her corpse lost control of the Valkyrie-suit. The Spawn Burster’s upper half remained perched atop her gory neck stump, its long tail wiggling inside her body. The tail curled and punched its way into Mercy’s spine, splitting her vertebrae and assuming control of the dead flesh. Her robotic wings fluttered a few times before the creature was able to get her to stay in the air, arms dangling at her sides and legs letting off the occasional death spasm. Fully aware of its preciously short lifespan, the Burster was eager to take its vessel for a fast, fun ride.

Hearing Mercy’s scream and the abrupt end didn’t surprise Camille, but she didn’t look back to see what had done the woman in. The hatch was too close to risk such things. She barely heard the whir of Mercy’s Valkyrie-suit as the headless puppet swooped in on her. She cried out as she was struck from behind, knocked to the ground by the gruesome remains of the woman who’d saved her only moments ago. Camille squirmed her way onto her back and stared into the horrifying visage that had become Mercy’s head. She screamed, trying to shove the woman’s body away from her, but the Burster was getting better at controlling its puppet by the second, using Mercy’s hands to grab hold of the struggling woman and keep her pinned to the ground.

Mercy’s hands moved to Camille’s chest, roughly grabbing hold of her breasts before ripping her top open. Camille beat her fists into Mercy, doing nothing to dislodge the dead woman. The Burster dropped over Camille’s bare tits, turning them into a juicy meal as its fangs chewed into her. Her shrieks rose in pitch as one nipple was viciously ripped away, blood and fat leaking from her torn flesh as the Burster feasted. Mercy’s hands came up, grabbing her by the wrists and pinning her arms to the ground as the Burster chewed and tore into her chest. When her right breast was nothing but tattered strips of gory meat, it moved on to the left one and continued feeding.

With no true brain to give Mercy’s body orders, the medic was reduced to instinctive gyrations. Camille’s kicking leg rubbed against her crotch, sending pleasant sensations through Mercy’s loins that she responded to. As the Burster fed, Mercy’s body ground her cunt against the top of Camille’s thigh, riding her with perverse gyrations. The Burster could feel only the mildest of flickers from Mercy’s nerve endings, but it was quite content to let the woman’s body continue to flail about while it finished devouring Camille’s tits. Its control over the flailing corpse-vessel was waning as its life crept closer to running out, but the Burster was committed to savoring every drop of existence it could.

Finishing up with Camille’s breasts, the Burster tightened Mercy’s grip on the squirming woman, pushing upwards. Camille’s tear-filled eyes fixed on the gore-smeared maw of the terrible creature, watching as it finished slurping up a few chunks of breast fat. Her sobs became screams again as the Burster smacked against her face, resuming its feast. Her lips were torn from her face. Her right cheek was ripped open, giving her a gruesome grin. Her left eye was sucked from its socket, leaving her half-blind. She managed to twist her head to the side in a futile attempt to avoid further disfigurement. The Burster took little notice, making Camille’s ear the next morsel it devoured.

A spastic shudder rolled through Mercy’s body as all the crotch-grinding drove her to a post-mortem release. The crotch of her Valkyrie-suit became soaked with her juices and the piss voiding from her dead bladder. Her fingers loosened from Camille’s wrists as her body flopped and jerked atop the partially consumed woman, freed from the wicked control of the dying Burster. The wild shuddering faded into lifelessness. Mercy’s hips jerked gently a few more times, continuing the macabre fuck-rhythm for a little while longer before joining the rest of her body into proper death.

The Burster’s movements grew sluggish, struggling for each fresh bite of Camille’s face. Sensing its end approaching, the creature ripped away a bloody chunk of her hair and fought hard to swallow it down, choking on her scalp. Its spider-like legs scratched gouges into her skin as it reached the end of its life-cycle and became just as dead as the meat-puppet it had been birthed from. Camille sobbed and sputtered on the blood flowing down her throat, still alive but feeling the chill of shock and blood loss eating away at her just like the Burster had. She pressed her trembling hands against Mercy’s shoulders, slowly inching her way out from under the dead weight, traumatized brain still focused on reaching the Bunker.

The Burster’s assault on Camille had been brutal but brief. But not brief enough. With barely any threats to hold them back, the zombies had moved in. The combo platter of Mercy and Camille was too big a lure to ignore. Camille let out a sputtering scream as she saw the undead converging on her with her remaining eye. She waved her arms wildly as they dropped to their knees around her, beating them back just as effectively as she’d beaten Mercy back. The woman’s screams grew frantic as rotting fingers dug into her slim belly, ripping through her skin and tugging free her steaming guts. The Burster was done feeding from her, but the zombies were just getting started.

Another small group of zombies focused their attention on Mercy. They tugged and pried at her Valkyrie-suit until it came away in pieces. Hoisting her hips into the air, they tore through the thin fabric of beneath the armor to reveal her perky ass. One of the zombies took hold of her buttocks and pried them apart, angling his cock so it could press into her tight sphincter. Another ripped the dead Burster from the stump of her neck, lifting her torso up so he could slide into the still warm hole of her throat. A third leaned over her, chewing his way through her shoulder until he was able to pull her arm away from her body and wrap her dead fingers around his erection, forcing her to jerk him off.

As Mercy’s corpse received a thorough undead gangbang, the Bunker’s main hatch slid closed, sealing the remaining survivors inside, where they thought it was safe.


Chapter Forty-Four: A Bridge Too Dead

Kaya hadn’t been lying. The trek to the bridge hadn’t been a fun one. Still somehow it had seemed more forgiving than the average stroll through the Necropolis.

“I don’t like this,” Alice muttered as they approached the bridge they’d been told about. “It seems too easy.”

“Maybe we’re finally putting a dent in their forces,” Kay-Em suggested.

Alice gave the talking head a skeptical look. It was even harder to take Kay-Em seriously now that she was strapped to Fuuka’s back with a series of ropes. “You’re the one with a super-computer in your head,” she shot back. “You run the odds on that? Given everything we’ve seen so far?”

Kay-Em had an answer, but she didn’t give it. That alone was enough to leave Alice on edge.

The bridge was massive. Suspension-style with six-lanes. Aside from a few listless zombies wandering around, it looked clear. There wasn’t even much in the way of stalled traffic, a clear sign of how fast the Necropolis had fallen. There’d not been time for a panicked retreat from the city before everyone died.

“Everyone stay sharp,” Alice called to the others. “If this really is a way out of the city, I seriously doubt it’s not being guarded by something.” She glanced down to the water beneath the bridge, the memories of the Doom Whale still far too fresh. “Fuuka, you sense anything?”

The woman closed her eyes, focused for a few moments, before shaking her head. “None of those creatures,” she replied, knowing what Alice was worried about. “Just some zombies. But…”

“What?” Alice pressed.

Fuuka’s face scrunched up. “It’s weird.” She looked down the bridge. “It feels… fuzzy.”

“Good fuzzy or bad fuzzy?”

Fuuka shrugged. “Just fuzzy.”

Alice sighed. “Like I said, keep an eye out,” she repeated as they made their way onto the bridge. There weren’t enough zombies to prove much of a threat. A fair number of them were still trapped in their cars, undead brains too dull to figure out how to get the doors open. The group left them there. Even with Homura’s shield, it wasn’t worth the ammo. After making it nearly two-thirds of the way across the bridge without encountering anything more threatening than a startling encounter with a zombie surging through an open car window, it started to feel like they might actually get to see what life outside the city looked like.

Then the jack-knifed semi-truck let out an annoyed growl. The squad came to a halt and Alice motioned for everyone to fan out. Fuuka stayed back. The trailer shuddered violently. Mental images of a mass of zombies exploding from the thing proved far too optimistic as whatever was within the trailer stretched out and ripped through the constricting living space. Homura ducked to avoid a flying chunk of trailer, coming up ready with an RPG. Before she could fire off a shot, the hulking creature kicked up its head and smashed the semi-truck across the bridge. The ground shuddered beneath the squad, nearly toppling them. By the time they recovered, they had a very clear view of the thing blocking their path so effectively.

The Helliphant – there really was no better way to describe the thing – was covered in thick, sickly grey hide. Four massive feet held its significant weight easily as it shifted to face the four women – plus one head – that dared to disturb its slumber. It lifted its head up, letting out another bellow from its leech-like mouth. Glistening lines of saliva splattered from the smacking sucker. Four tusks framed the mouth, two on either side. As the stunned group watched, the tusks pushed further from the things body, becoming the deadly tips of four squirming tentacles. The feathery frills running along the base of the creature’s head fluttered before flaring out in what was most likely a natural signal of impending attack. There was no sign that the thing had any eyes, but it didn’t seem to need any as it charged towards the group.

Looks like it was the bad fuzzy, Alice thought as she yelled for Fuuka to retreat further back down the bridge. She ducked under a swiping tusk-tendril and replied with a burst of automatic fire that might as well have been spit balls for all the damage it caused. Homura fired off her RPG. The explosion shifted the Helliphant, leaving behind a blackened scorch along its side, but seemed only mildly more effective than the bullets. The two pressed their attack, staying moving to avoid the creature’s tusks. Its lack of eyes seemed to provide a benefit. As the pair split up, trying to divide the creature’s attention, it seemed to have no trouble focusing on both of them simultaneously.

“Really wish I had a body right about now,” Kay-Em grumbled as Fuuka hurried back down the bridge. Spotting a car without an undead occupant, Fuuka ducked down behind the hood. The android head wasn’t the only one lamenting her lack of combat prowess. Fuuka’s face constricted into concerned fear as she watched Alice, Homura, and Izumi face off against the dreaded Helliphant. Why couldn’t I sense it? I’ve got one damn gift and it’s not even working right, she thought. Now that the creature had emerged from the cocoon of its trailer, she could sense it loud and clear. Lot of good that does us now, she thought.

Homura drew a shotgun with shredder rounds from her shield and tossed it to Alice before pulling a bandolier of grenades for herself. They pushed their attack, staying out of each other’s line of fire. The shredder rounds managed to carve some gouges into the Helliphant’s hide, but not deep enough to draw blood. Homura discovered an entirely different problem with the grenades. The Helliphant was fast. Too fast for a creature its size. It had no trouble side-stepping the grenades, taking only the most minimal of blasts from them. She kept pulling pins and throwing, trying to adjust for the creature’s movements. Her eyes widened with shocked horror as she watched one of the grenades smacked aside by a slashing tendril, knocking the explosive towards Alice.

Izumi spotted the potential disaster even before Alice. She slapped her hands together, a crackle of blue electricity flashing between them. The energy coursed up her arms and across her shoulders as she crouched and planted her hands against the asphalt. Focusing her alchemical energies into the road, she conjured a thick wall in front of Alice, shielding her as the grenade blew. The woman jumped back, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a wall in front of her. She glanced towards Izumi and gave her a nod. “Thanks!” she called over. “What else can you do?”

Izumi smirked and adjusted her focus, opening up the mother of all potholes beneath one of the Helliphant’s rear legs. The creature let out a surprised groan as its weight shifted unsteadily, giving Homura the chance to finally roll a grenade right under it. The explosion knocked the creature onto its side, but didn’t seem to do much else. It pushed back onto its feet fast enough to avoid another explosion, whipping one of its tusk tendrils towards Homura. Izumi forced a jutting length of road up, knocking the creature’s tusk to the side.

Fuuka watched as the three women worked together to wear the Helliphant down. Although there wasn’t much in the way of visual damage, she could sense that the combined assault was working. She just hoped they could keep it up long enough to kill the thing.

“Um, Fuuka?” Kay-Em called, but the woman could already sense it. The same fuzziness she’d felt as they’d started across the bridge. Only now it was coming from behind them. She turned slowly, feeling a chill of fear creeping through her as she watched a second Helliphant charging down the road towards them.

“Guys!” she called to the others. “This thing’s got a friend!”

Alice glanced down the bridge and muttered a curse as she spotted the second Helliphant. “This goddamn city needs to cut us some fucking slack,” she growled. She made a dash back towards Fuuka, already able to see she wouldn’t be able to make it back to the young woman in time. She heard the swoosh of air rushing towards her and threw herself low to avoid the swipe of one of the tusk-tendrils. She’d barely gotten back to her feet before a second one slashed in low, knocking her legs out from under her. Rolling onto her back, she watched the tusk whip around and stab towards her. She fired off shredder rounds into the fleshier bit of the tendril, but even the fleshy bit was too thick to be effectively cut through. She tossed her shotgun aside and rolled to avoid impalement, sliding under a nearby car. The tusk ripped free from the road and twisted to take aim at her again. “Fuck,” she groaned as she stared at the tip of the bony spear surging towards her. Her sight of the instrument of her death vanished as Izumi created another wall of asphalt to protect her.

Breathing a sigh of relief as she heard the tusk thunk into the road-wall, Alice turned to slide out the other hand of the car only to find the vehicle pressed close against the barrier alongside the bridge. She tilted her head back, seeing the back of the car wasn’t obstructed by anything and started shimmying her way towards it. She’d nearly made it before the Helliphant started beating its tusk against the top of the vehicle. The tires blew on one side, forcing the car to tilt to the side. Alice let out a scream as a chunk of metal pressed down into her shoulder, pinning her there.

Izumi was so focused on keeping Alice alive that she didn’t notice the Helliphant taking an unhealthy interest in her. She was working to wedge the car off of Alice. Before she could, one of the tusk-tendrils lashed out at her. She managed to avoid having her face skewered by the thing, but still took a nasty hit to the head. She spun half-around, dazed and bleeding from her temple. Izumi dropped to the road, not unconscious, but close to it. Blinking the blood from her eye, she clenched her jaw and focused her energy, opening up one last pit beneath the Helliphant’s front legs that shifted its weight and put it off-balance.

With Alice and Izumi out of commission and Fuuka in danger, Homura knew she needed to deal with the first Helliphant fast. Pulling the pins on the remaining grenades, she tossed the bandolier into the pit Izumi had created before pulling free her RPG. The grenades blew, deepening the pit and sending the Helliphant tipping forward further. Homura fired off a shot from the RPG and blew a hole through the bridge, opening it up wide enough to send the mammoth-sized creature falling. The support platforms beneath the bridge battered the Helliphant’s thick hide, managing to finally cause some serious damage to the thing before sending it flipping end over end into the water below. It floated to the surface, either dead or unconscious. Either way, it wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

Fuuka panted rapidly as the second Helliphant charged towards her. It was nearly on top of her. Her hands fumbled for the gun-like device in her pocket. She spun it around and mashed the barrel against the center of her forehead. “Persona!” she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut as she pulled the trigger on the device. There was a flash as a spectral figure emerged from her body, rising up over her as it formed into the image of a woman with bandages covering her eyes and throat. A giant glass eye sprouted from the lower half of the woman’s body, circling around Fuuka and Kay-Em, trapping them within and saving them from the Helliphant’s first devastating blow.

The Helliphant seemed confused by the sudden obstruction keeping it from the soft, squishy victim within the glass eye. It lifted up onto its hind legs and slammed its trunk-like fore legs into the glass, causing the sphere to shudder but not crack. Fuuka knew her Persona wouldn’t hold out forever, but she hoped it would last long enough for the others to figure out a way to deal with the second behemoth.

Homura rushed to Izumi. She helped the woman up and pushed her shield into her hands. “This is broken,” she said, urgency tinging her words as she glanced towards Fuuka. “Can you fix it?”

Izumi wiped the blood from her face and took the shield. She looked it over, turning it around in her hands. She’d not seen anything quite like it before, but after a quick examination she felt confident she could reconstruct it back to a fully working state with the proper application of some transmutation. She rubbed her hands together, fighting off the pounding in her head and the fatigue to conjure forth another dose of alchemical energy. Clutching the damaged shield in her hands, she forced the energy into it, breaking it down and reassembling it. The moment she started, Homura jerked away, face constricting with agony as she dropped to her knees.

Izumi nearly stopped, but Homura reached out to grab her and shook her head. “Keep… going…” she groaned through clenched teeth, tears running down her face. Izumi did as she was asked, trying to complete the task as quickly as possible for Homura’s sake. The young woman’s screams rang in her ears as the shield shifted and reformed within her hands. The screams drifted away as she finished. She slumped, panting heavily and more than a little exhausted.

Handing the shield back to Homura, Izumi gave her an uncertain look. “That… should do it,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Homura slid the shield back onto her arm, already feeling the restored abilities. Izumi’s fix had done the trick. Pushing aside the residual pain of having the very essence of her soul pulled from her to assist in the repair, Homura turned to the second Helliphant with a look of grim determination. “I’m great,” she growled.

Izumi gasped as Homura vanished.

The glass eye shattered, Fuuka’s Persona vanishing as it did. She’d pulled Kay-Em’s head off her back and clutched it to her chest. As the Helliphant reared up again, this time ready to bring its massive, flat feet down onto her body and crush her into pulp, Fuuka shoved Kay-Em under the car she was in front of, hoping it would keep the android safe. She curled into a ball, waiting for painful death. The sudden sense of fast movement consumed her, making her want to vomit. Opening her eyes, she looked to see she was no longer about to be crushed by the creature. Instead, she’d been moved well out of range of its attacks. Her brow furrowed with confusion that only grew stronger as suddenly – with another rush of something – she found Kay-Em’s head in her hands.

The android looked up at her, just as confused as Fuuka. “What a rush,” she muttered.

Fuuka, Kay-Em, and Izumi weren’t the only ones left confused. The Helliphant let out a frustrated bellow, smacking the car off the bridge as it twisted and turned in search of its prey. Before it could get a fix on any of the others, Homura popped back into sight, a blinking landmine in one hand. “Hey, over here!” she yelled to the beast. It turned and charged towards her, closing the distance with shocking speed. But as fast as it was, it wasn’t fast enough to catch Homura. The young woman vanished again, leaving behind the landmine. The Helliphant’s large foot came down on the device, triggering it and sending it stumbling back.

The bait and switch game continued as Homura lured the Helliphant back and forth across the bridge, careful to stay away from where the others were. The Helliphant was as persistent as it was durable. It took some time for the repeated explosions to rip deep enough into its hide to start causing serious damage. Once they had, Homura set up one final trap for the creature. A cacophony of explosions shook the bridge as the Helliphant’s thick legs were blown away. The heavy bulk of the thing dropped to the bridge, but not before Homura lined the asphalt with an almost comical number of landmines. The force of the combined explosions proved more than enough to rip open the Helliphant’s underside and fling its steaming guts across the bridge. The smoking husk of the creature rolled onto its side, quite dead.

In the wake of the battle, Izumi finally pushed the car off of Alice. She was dirty and sore, but otherwise unharmed. Rubbing at her bruised shoulder, she looked at the second Helliphant’s carcass with confusion. “What’d I miss?” She jumped as Homura popped back into sight just beside her. “Fuck!”

Homura held up her shield. “Izumi fixed it,” she explained.

“So…” Alice replied, still uncertain if she believed the claims Homura had made about the device, despite everything she’d seen.

“I can stop time,” Homura confirmed. “There are limits to it, though.”

“No such thing as a free lunch,” Kay-Em quipped.

Alice decided not to question it. In the grand scheme of everything they’d been through, it didn’t seem like that much of a stretch. And at least this time, the reality breaking bullshit is on our side, she thought. She looked to Fuuka. “Any more of those things?”

Fuuka shook her head. “Not that I can sense. And I can sense them properly now. I don’t know why I couldn’t before.”

“It’s not your fault,” Alice assured her. “Things don’t work right here. We’ve seen that enough times before. Let’s just see where this bridge leads.”

The bridge led out of the mayhem, out of the death, beyond the reach of the Omni. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as simply walking out onto the road beyond. The squad discovered as much as they were met with an invisible but quite solid barrier. They felt along the thing, trying to find a seam or an opening. When that didn’t work, they backed up and let Homura launch some heavy ordinance into it. It did no good. Neither did Izumi’s attempt to use her alchemical powers.

“If only we had a multi-pass,” Kay-Em muttered.

There was a thick silence in the wake of the android’s joke. Homura reached over and grabbed the head from Fuuka, shoving Kay-Em into her shield. She gave the shield a few hard shakes, resulting in a muffled bit of clattering and pained yells before drawing the head back out. Kay-Em’s eyes rolled about in a daze before refocusing.

“Sorry,” she said finally. “Bad joke.”

Alice sighed. “Made it to the bridge, now we just have to figure out someway to get this barrier down,” she said, pulling her radio out. “It might only be half-good news, but hopefully it’ll boost everyone’s spirits back at the bunker.” She flicked the device on, ready to report in, only to find Satsuki Kiryuin’s voice attempting to get her attention.

“Scout Party Alpha,” Satsuki called. “This is an emergency broadcast. If you’re still out there, please respond.”

Alice hit the transmit button on her radio. “This is Scout Party Alpha. What’s going on?”

“The Bunker is under heavy assault by undead forces,” Satsuki responded. “We’ve suffered numerous casualties. Front hatch is in danger of being compromised.”

“Shit,” Alice hissed before responding. “Look, we may have found a way out of the city. There’s a bridge, north-west of the Bunker. It’s a clear shot out, but there’s a barrier. Might take some time to get it down. We can divert and make our way back to help.”

“Negative,” Satsuki shot back. “Your orders are to find shelter. The likelihood of the Bunker surviving this assault is not looking good. Extreme measures may need to be taken.”

“But we can – “ Alice tried.

“No!” Satsuki interrupted firmly. “Let us worry about the Bunker. You worry about keeping your unit safe. Hunker down. If you can get out, get out. Once this horde is finished with us, it’ll be free to disperse throughout the city. You’ll need to be prepared for it.” There was the sound of other voices in the background. They sounded scared, panicking. “Kiryuin, signing off.” There was a click and the radio went dead.

It didn’t sound good, but the notion of abandoning all of the survivors left in the Bunker felt even worse. “Who’s up for disobeying an order?” Alice asked.

The others looked tired and more than a little done with risking their lives, but none of them had any words of dissent. On the contrary, Homura had a few in her favor. “Going back may be the only way to leave,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Izumi asked.

“It’s like a Witch’s Labyrinth,” she said.

“A what?” Fuuka titled her head, confused.

“A theory. Maybe a way this nightmare puzzlebox of a city works,” she explained. “Somewhere out there, something has to be controlling this barrier, keeping it up. If we can find that creature and kill it, the barrier will drop.”

Alice nodded, understanding what she was getting at. “And if whatever’s doing this is pissed off enough to throw enough forces at the Bunker to destroy it, then there’s a good chance the thing in charge is there, too.”

Homura nodded. “Exactly.”

“I don’t need any more convincing,” Alice decided. “That time-stopping trick, can you use that with all of us?”

Homura looked over the group. “A party this size? Yes. But I couldn’t use it if there were too many people. I can’t use it to save everyone in the Bunker.”

“That’s fine,” Alice assured her. “We can do that as a team. But we’re going to have to get back there fast. Can your ability do that?”

“I think so,” she said.

“Alright,” Alice said, pumping a fresh shell into her shotgun and turning to look back down the devastated bridge. “Let’s go kill us a witch.”


Chapter Forty-Five: Tharja

The main hatch thudded closed, locks sliding into place to create an airtight seal. The panicked chatter permeating the group of survivors gathered at the Bunker’s entrance contained a number of conflicting ideas, but they all seemed to agree on one thing: The hatch wouldn’t keep them safe. Tharja stood amongst the chaos, listening to all the voices, unable to shake the shock she felt. She’d been outside, albeit briefly, doing her part to hold the frontline. The horrifying sights she’d witnessed would never leave her. That was bad enough, but the certainty that only blind luck had saved her from being another victim, paired with the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before her luck ran out, left her feeling cold and alone.

The conflict was shifting. Suddenly, the enemy quite literally beating down their door wasn’t the primary problem. Some of the survivors wanted to try to barricade the hatch, form another line of defense behind it. Others wanted to flee, grab as many supplies as they could and escape out into the Necropolis. Trapped within her horrified shock, Tharja felt like she could see the situation with perfect clarity. They were dead. All of them. They’d managed to scrape together some semblance of safety within the Bunker, but that had only been a cruel joke. The Bunker wasn’t an oasis within the deadly city. It was a vessel, waiting to be fattened up by their presence. And now that the Bunker was nice and plump, the horrors had come to feast.

Stand and fight. Run and hide. The choices were meaningless. All paths lead to one inevitable conclusion. Tharja realized there was only one real way to beat the Necropolis. With the infighting growing louder and more chaotic, it was easy for her to slip away from the group of survivors. She said nothing to anyone she passed as she made her way back to her bunk. The tears that sparkled in her eyes contrasted with the Zen-like expression on her face. She had a way out. An escape plan that could not be countered by any of the monstrosities infesting the Necropolis. It wouldn’t be easy, but – as she saw it – it was the only sane choice.

Entering her private quarters, Tharja disrobed as she shuffled towards the bathroom. She left her clothing lying in a disheveled path behind her, fully nude by the time she reached the tub. Pushing the stopper into place, she twisted the knobs until a gush of warm water flowed from the faucet. Tharja sat on the edge of the tub, tracing her fingers through the rising water as she hummed out a song – something she remembered from childhood. When the tub was full, she stopped the water and slid into it. Her body caused the level of the water to rise, sloshing over the rim, but she took no notice of it as she leaned back and got comfortable.

Tharja was committed to her plan, but now that she’d prepared everything, she found it hard to follow through with it. She took in a deep breath, let it out slowly. It helped to steady her nerves, but not enough. Giving her head a shake, she turned her thoughts elsewhere. She ran her hands along her breasts, feeling along the smooth flesh and tracing her fingers along the edges of her nipples. The tingle of pleasure felt nice. A faint smile played across her face, happy to bask in something that felt nice for a little while longer. Slipping a hand under the water and between her thighs, she dragged her fingers through the folds of her cunt.

Moaning softly as she plunged a finger into her warm pussy, Tharja leaned her head back against the rim of the tub. She massaged her breast with one hand, rolling her stiffening nipple between her fingers. The hand beneath the water worked steadily, plunging two fingers knuckle deep into the slickening sheath of her gripping snatch. Stretching her thumb, she wiggled it against her clit, whimpering as the fresh jolts of ecstasy radiated up from her loins. If she closed her eyes and focused solely on the pleasure, it was almost as if she wasn’t trapped within a hellish nightmare. Chewing at her bottom lip, Tharja fingered herself faster, desperate to feel one last orgasm.

Tharja’s abdominal muscles flexed, her body tensing up as the tidal wave of ecstasy finally consumed her. Her hand trembled against her chest, fingers digging in to the flesh of her tit as her aching cunt walls shivered around her probing digits. The moan spilling from her lips was one of relief and sadness as she jerked within the tub, spilling some more water over the edge. As the pleasure of her climax faded, Tharja slid her fingers out of her pussy. She felt warm. She felt satisfied. And soon, she would feel safe.

Taking the razor blade in hand, Tharja extended her arm and guided her hand to her wrist. There was a flash of pain as she dug the sharp blade into her flesh. The pain worsened as she carved up her forearm, opening up a straight line through her skin. The flow of blood came fast, spurting from severed arteries and dribbling in thick lines across the surface of the water. She gasped from the stinging pain of the cut, forcing her trembling fingers to remain steady enough as she passed the bloody razor from one hand to the other so she could repeat the cutting process on her other forearm. It was easier the second time. The rapid blood loss already had her head feeling woozy, diminishing the pain she felt.

Tharja let the razor slip from her fingers, plunking into the crimson-hued water and sink to the bottom of the tub. She let out a dazed giggle as she considered the danger of accidentally cutting herself on the thing. Leaning back in the tub, she let her bleeding arms sink into the water. She looked down the length of her body, finding it hard to see herself through the thickening haze of red filling the water. The warmth from her orgasm faded as the chill of blood loss consumed her. Her breathing grew shallow, eyelids drifting lower as her brain fogged over.

They don’t have to worry about saving me, Tharja thought as she considered the other survivors. I’m already saving myself. It was grim. She wasn’t so far gone that she didn’t realize that. But everything in the Necropolis was grim. But despite that grimness, she knew that it was the closest thing she could find to a happy ending. The closest thing she could find to a victory. Would the undead break into the Bunker? Certainly. Would one of the monstrosities perhaps find her body soaking in the tub and defile it? It seemed likely. But she’d already be gone by then. They wouldn’t make her suffer. They wouldn’t take away her dignity.

Tharja slid further into the tub, too weak to keep sitting up. The bottom of her chin touched against the crimson water. Looking out across the surface, she could see the tips of her breasts emerging like two fleshy islands each time she filled her lungs. An amused smile played across her face as she watched those islands rising and falling. Her skin grew an almost icy white as the last of her blood flowed from her slit wrists. With a sigh, the islands of her breasts vanished once more. She stared at the surface of the water, waiting for them to return for a few moments before realizing they weren’t going to. Her breaths were too shallow.

Tharja’s head rolled to the side, half-lidded eyes losing focus. Her lips blew some weak bubbles across the surface of the bloody water as her last breath escaped her lungs. Her slumped body soaked in the blend of water and blood surrounding her, a startling discovery waiting to be found. The expression locked onto her face in death was one of contentedness. Tharja had secured her escape from the Necropolis. The rest of the survivors were still looking for their own way out.


Chapter Forty-Six: Starfire

In the short time it had taken Tharja to peacefully bleed out in her tub, the pandemonium in the Bunker had grown worse. Starfire did her best to soothe her fellow survivors, but even her normally positive outlook wasn’t quite as powerful as it typically was. When she heard about looting breaking out, she knew things had gone too far. She hurried down the hall towards Anne’s little shop. The young shopkeeper was missing, presumed dead. The survivors had decided her stock was fair game, breaking into the area and snatching up anything they could carry, regardless of how useful it was.

Starfire frowned as she caught sight of the looting ahead. “Please, friends,” she called to the other survivors, whipped up into a near riotous frenzy. “This is not necessary! We must work together to maintain safety!” Her words did nothing to break up the looters. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, but she knew that more direct interference would be necessary. She could see how bad things were, but she saw no point to the mindless thievery and destruction taking place before her. It would not stop the Legions of the Undead attempting to breach the Bunker. It would not keep the survivors within safe.

Pushing her way through the cramped hall, Starfire tried to reach Anne’s shop. She pushed against the tide of people coming back from their looting excursion. Unsurprisingly, they had no sense of politeness, pushing and shoving Starfire from side to side as they made their escape to wherever they thought it might be safe. “These things do not belong to you,” she tried to explain to the survivors passing her, but they’d seemed to develop a hearing deficiency. Starfire let them go, refusing to be the catalyst for turning things violent. She wanted to make them see reason, not start a bloodbath.

Starfire stumbled out of the hall and into the little crossroads where Anne had set up her shop. She recalled speaking with the young woman when she’d set it up and her repetitious statement of ‘location’. And she’d not been wrong. The spot was a centralized hub, halls leading into the other sections of the Bunker. If a survivor wanted to get anywhere in the Bunker, they almost always had to pass by the shop, where Anne was ready and willing to sell whatever she had on hand with a variety of persuasive techniques. Blown into gooey chunks of meat, Anne wouldn’t have been selling anything again even if her shop had survived the assault on the Bunker. By the time Starfire reached it, the place was in ruins, mostly picked over. Only three survivors remained, but they seemed determined to find something of value to take for themselves.

Haley sat near the middle of the destroyed shop, a pile of jewelry in front of her. She grinned, sliding rings and necklaces onto her fingers. The self-centered blonde had been eyeing the trinkets for a while, but she’d not been able to come up with anything to barter with. She’d never know just how lucky she’d been to avoid becoming one of Bathory’s test subjects, considering the lack of benefit she’d provided the bunker. She held up her ring-filled hands and grinned, blue eyes sparkling with the joy of material possessions. Nami and Vala Mal Doran weren’t distracted by the pile of costume jewelry Haley had fixated on, too busy looking through the remains for things of true worth. None of them saw any reason to listen to Starfire’s pleas for them to stop.

Vala spotted a half-crushed carton of cigarettes near the back of the shop and darted for it. The constant stress of impending death had a tendency to push even the most adamant of non-smokers into the habit. The little sticks of tobacco and chemicals might as well have been gold for their value in the Necropolis. Nami spotted what Vala was after and rushed after her. The two snatched up the carton, struggling to claim it for themselves.

“I saw it first!” Vala snapped.

“Screw that!” Nami yelled back. “You already got the can opener!”

The tug of war intensified, resulting in the carton tearing in half and sending packs of cigarettes flying. The two forgot about their struggle and made a hasty dash to snatch up as many individual packs as they could.

Haley got to her feet, still admiring her hands. She wanted to see how pretty she looked with all the jewelry on, but she couldn’t find any mirrors among the disarray of Anne’s shop. Her eyes lit up as she remembered she had one in her bunk. She gave no thought to the danger pressing in on all of them as she turned and started towards the hall that would lead to her room.

As Starfire continued to try to talk some sense into Nami and Vala, all four women received an unpleasant reminder of just how much danger they were in. The scuttling overhead was soft enough that none of them heard it amongst the yelling. When the vent smashed open, their eyes were drawn upwards. The Plague Ratt dropped from the vent like the biological grenade it was. The thing let out a sharp squeak as it landed on its four scrawny legs, the bulbous sack on its back rippling. Haley screamed. Nami and Vala scrambled for the weapons at their sides. Starfire’s hands glowed as she drew forth energy into them, firing off a bolt into the creature before it had a chance to do anything.

The Ratt exploded, spraying a messy smear of gore across the floor. As the full sac growing from its back burst, it expelled a thick cloud of green gas into the air. Haley was the closest to the creature. The gas hit her first. Her eyes went wide, bulging, as a fresh scream ripped up the blonde’s throat. Starfire, Nami, and Vala watched in horror as the young woman’s face wrinkled, seeming to wither even as lines of pus flowed from her pores. Biological weapon, popped into Starfire’s mind as she realized the Ratt’s true purpose. Haley was already infected with whatever the gas contained. The cloud was between her and the others and any means of escape, and that was assuming they hadn’t already breathed any of it in. She didn’t know how far the gas could spread, or if those effected could spread it. The fear tickling at the back of Starfire’s mind was pushed back by her desire to do the right thing.

Holding her breath, Starfire darted through the cloud of gas to the nearest hatchway. She could see some more survivors further down the hall. Word of the looting had spread. They were coming to see what they could get from Anne’s shop. She couldn’t let them get into the area. She triggered the switch to seal the section without hesitation, knowing it would doom her, doom the others in the shop. But it would save the other survivors. That was enough. Starfire winced as she heard the hatches sliding down into place, already feeling the first flickers of pain from whatever poison was flooding the air.

Haley didn’t need a mirror to know her good looks were a thing of the past. She let out a sob, eyes shriveling as they sunk into her skull, but she could still see clearly enough to see the hatch before her sliding down. “No!” she shrieked, voice gurgling from the pus leaking down her throat. She dashed for the hatch, throwing herself to the floor and scrambling for the exit. She didn’t think of the potential of spreading the disease to others, or that there was likely no way to save her, but she refused to die trapped in the section.

Starfire saw Haley’s attempt to flee. A frown filled her face, the first sputters of pus already leaking from the edges of her lips and through the canals of her ears. She rushed after the blonde, grabbing at her flailing legs and struggling to keep her within the sealing section. Haley shrieked and flailed, pulling a leg free and kicking Starfire in the gut hard enough to dislodge her. Haley let out a groan of triumph and kept crawling, her vision gone as her eyes withered into a couple of dried lumps. Her fingers felt along the seam of the hatch and she pulled herself forward, unable to see that she didn’t have enough time to clear the threshold.

Starfire averted her watering eyes from the gruesome sight of Haley’s head being crushed under the hatch. The blonde’s body gave off a few spastic stutters before slumping lifeless, continuing to shrivel and ooze. She looked to see that Nami and Vala weren’t fairing much better. The two had forgotten about their previous scuffle, clinging to one another as the agony of their gooey withering progressed. Their flesh clung tight to their bones, sliding away in gooey patches as they pawed at one another’s bodies. As she watched them crumble into a pair of entangled skeletons covered in sticky sludge, Starfire realized the room was sealed. And she was still holding her breath.

Doing her best to focus on the good she’d done and not the horrible death that awaited her, Starfire let out her air. She blinked the tears and pus from her eyes before breathing in the gas, hoping that perhaps sucking enough of it in fast enough would make the poison work faster, reduce the pain. The agonize wail that ripped up her throat just after she filled her lungs with the deadly toxin was enough to show just how wrong she was. Cringing, she stumbled awkwardly, clutching at her body. The pain was all-consuming. Every inch of her burned. Her green eyes glowed with uncomprehending panic as her body endured the same gruesome process as Haley, Nami, and Vala.

With the agony rushing through her, Starfire’s altruistic nature cracked. She charged towards the nearest hatch, seeing the horrified faces staring in at her. Clenching her fists, she beat at the door, knowing there was no way to get it open again. Her hands glowed, firing off bolts of energy that left behind a few scorch marks but did nothing to let her escape. Deep down, she was thankful for that, but it didn’t keep the gasping screams from continuing to pour out of her alongside the dribbling waves of pus. Her legs buckled and she dropped to her knees continuing to pound at the hatch. Her skin tightened around her bones, showing off her ribs and creating deepening creases across her face.

Twisting to the side, Starfire hunched over and brought her hands up to her head, beating her fists against her temples. She wished she could punch her way through her head, crush her brain like Haley’s had been crushed under the door. Anything to escape the pain. Thin lines of pus poured through her clenched teeth, splattering messily across the floor. Her sunken cheeks would have blushed if the pallid flesh was still capable of such things as she felt a gush of her urine trickling down her trembling, withering thighs. She straightened back up, fingers digging into her scalp, tearing a threw clumps of her red hair free. Her mouth opened, stretching into a haunting visage as she tried to force another scream up through her pus-clogged throat. The green in her eyes dulled as the ocular orbs wrinkled and shrank in their sockets.

Starfire slumped onto her once perky ass, feeling the bones of her posterior knock against the floor. Her shriveling legs curled beneath her, piss continuing to squirt through the crotch of her outfit. Her plump, youthful breasts tightened and sagged, hanging loosely from her chest as she reached for the hatch before her. Her fingers curled, locked up into a claw-like pose as she flopped arm scrawny arms at the terrified faces staring at her through the window in the hatch. There was nothing they could do for her. On some level, Starfire’s rapidly decaying brain knew that, but it didn’t stop her from silently begging them for something – anything – to take away the pain.

The pool of fluids spread from where Starfire knelt as her shriveled eyes rolled back into her skull. Her tits were flattened sacks, lactating the last of the putrefied fat and internal organs from her drooping nipples. She looked like a barely living skeleton, dried skin stretched tight across her bones. As her body slackened into death, the skin peeled away in greasy chunks, splattering to the floor around her. She remained perched for a few moments longer before her bones collapsed in on themselves, clattering into a pile of gooey, gruesome decay.


Chapter Forty-Seven: Tsuyu Asui

Starfire’s sacrifice saved several survivors from the noxious fumes of the Plague Ratt. But just as she’d been unable to stop the looting, there was nothing she could do to stop the panic-fueled paranoia that took hold in the wake of her death. Tsuyu Asui’s unnaturally large eyes stared at the gruesome remains within the sealed section, feeling a shiver run down her spine as she realized just how close she’d come to enduring the same fate. The screams had drawn her – along with a few of the other survivors – to Anna’s shop. Watching Starfire decay into a gooey skeleton before them was about as horrifying a discovery as she could imagine.

Tsuyu could hear the panic in the voices of those around her and turned away from the sealed hatch. Like Starfire, she knew that the panic would only lead to more mistakes, more deaths. She did her best to soothe them, reel them back in from the out-of-control state they’d whipped themselves into. With the hub sealed off, they didn’t have to worry about the main hatch being breached, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other dangers to deal with. If anything, what had happened to Starfire and the others was a clear indicator that they needed to refocus on finding a way to stay alive.

She did her best to voice all of her concerns to the terrified survivors, but it didn’t do much good. When she tried to press her points, things grew worse. One of the survivors – Joy Turner – aimed an accusatory finger at Tsuyu. “Why the hell should we listen to the frog girl?” she yelled. “For all we know, she’s working for those things outside!”

Tsuyu’s face constricted with nervousness. “I’m not,” she insisted. “I’m just trying to help.”

Joy narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the frog-like young woman. Tsuyu saw similar looks from the other survivors. “You got here pretty fast, girl,” she said loudly. “Maybe you’re the one who released that nasty gas stuff in that room.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Somebody set off a bomb in that crazy doctor lady’s lab. Somebody killed Kimberly. I think we should start pointing the finger at the only person in this bunker who looks like she hopped out of Old Man Jenkin’s Freakshow.”

By the time Daenerys, Azula, and the Baroness arrived at the scene, the group of survivors were riled up into a wild pack, their fear and hatred fixated solely on Tsuyu. They’d pulled her out of the hall and into a roomier section, surrounding her. She turned her head from one survivor to the next, large eyes filled with confused horror as they lobbed insults and threats at her, blaming her for the trouble within the Bunker, the whole assault. She tried desperately to defend herself, but there wasn’t a single sympathetic ear amongst the group. When she saw the two Bunker leaders arrive, there was a flicker of hope in her face as she called out to them, begging for help.

The mob quieted down, somewhat. Several more eyes turned to Dany and Azula. Dany spoke up before Azula could. “I’ve never trusted this creature,” she announced, aiming a finger at Tsuyu. The Guts infesting her were thrilled to see just how much the survivors had devolved over the course of the assault. If they needed a little push to get them to turn on one another, they were more than happy to use Dany to do it. “We have a saying where I come from. Looks are rarely deceiving. And she very much looks to be more monster than human.”

Tsuyu’s confused fear grew as Dany’s words washed over her. She’d spoken with the woman before. She’d seemed friendly, eager to help. Tsuyu couldn’t fathom why she’d turn on her, but as the survivors surrounding her took Dany’s words to heart and grew more volatile, she didn’t think she had time to worry about that. She tried to dart through the crowd. “I’m not one of them!” she yelled. “I swear!” Her words seemed to mean even less now that Dany had laid judgment on her. She was shoved back violently. When she tried to escape a second time, she wound up with her top torn open and a fist slammed into her gut. Tsuyu stumbled back, gasping, one breast left exposed.

Tsuyu didn’t want to hurt anyone, but as she watched some of the survivors gather up a length of rope that had come from Anna’s shop, she knew that if she didn’t, she’d not like what happened. She let her tongue slide free, cracking it through the air like a whip. That seemed to get the riled-up survivors’ attention. They backed away, widening the circle around her momentarily before charging in as one. Tsuyu used her tongue to beat them back, leaving behind stinging welts but refusing to use enough force to draw blood in the hopes that she might still be able to convince them she wasn’t their enemy. Tsuyu turned back and forth, trying to keep everyone back. With all the yelling and threats of violence, she didn’t notice Dany until the woman was right on top of her. The dagger in the woman’s hand slashed up, severing Tsuyu’s tongue an inch or so in front of her lips. The frog-like girl cried out, blood spurting from the stump of her tongue as she pulled away from Dany. The length of glistening muscle flopped about on the floor as the last twitches of energy crept through it.

“Time for this crazy frog bitch to croak!” Joy yelled, rubbing at the welt marring her face. Without her tongue, Tsuyu couldn’t hold back the mob. They closed in on her, repaying her tongue lashes with a few hard strikes as they dragged her struggling form over to the waiting noose they’d fashioned. Tears gushed from her large eyes, blood sputtering from her lips as she begged with growing desperation. Without her tongue, her words were little more than gibberish, but the tone of her voice made it clear she didn’t want to die. The other survivors didn’t care. Even those she’d once seen as friends showed her no mercy as they tugged her under the rope and yanked the noose over her head.

Tsuyu’s sputtered pleas became choked gurgles as several of the survivors worked together to tug her into the air. The rough rope dug in tight against the front of her throat, crushing her windpipe mostly closed. Her legs shot out, flopping back and forth as she wildly searched for something solid to stand on. She brought her hands up to the rope, trying to squeeze her fingers underneath it so she could pull it away from her partially crushed throat. Tsuyu’s mouth stretched open, wheezing in air and expelling it alongside drool and blood. The stump of her tongue flapped about with spastic energy, flinging lines of blood across the faces of the survivors watching her hang with frenzied glee. As she swayed from side to side at the end of the rope, her single bare breast jerked and jiggled, nipple stiffening to terrified attention.

Tsuyu’s bloody lips smacked together as her face went red. Her struggles grew more frantic, arms stretching up to feel along the rope above her head, searching for some way to free herself from the deadly snare. Her bulging eyes stared out at the faces of her murderers, still gurgling out attempts to beg for mercy, to plead her innocence. Her toes clenched, legs jutting out straight as muscular tremors ran through her thighs. Like a desperate animal, she fought against the noose, only helping to pull the rope tighter against her throat. Her esophagus collapsed completely with a wet crunch, reducing her utterances to urgent clicks. Her vision grew blurry, lack of oxygen stealing away her energy and forcing her movements to become more sporadic. As her face shifted towards purple, she shifted from dangling limply at the end of the noose to wildly flailing.

As Tsuyu’s struggles waned, the murderous frenzy permeating the mob did likewise. The terror-inspired panic that had encouraged their actions dulled enough to allow them to realize what they’d done. By then, Tsuyu was gurgling out her death rattle and soaking her pants with urine, dangling listlessly at the end of the rope. Her bulging eyes stared blankly out at them, filled with horror and sadness. The group exchanged nervous glances, no longer certain that they’d done the right thing. Even Joy had a look of shame. Tsuyu’s lifeless husk was lowered to the floor, well beyond saving.

“She was working for the monsters,” one of the survivors muttered, not sounding nearly as convinced as they had before.

“Had to be,” another nodded.

The somberness in the wake of Tsuyu’s death as a bit of a buzzkill for Dany and the Guts, but the frog-girl’s final performance had left a sadistic smirk on her face. She concealed her amusement fast as she saw the mood shifting, turning away and heading back down the passage she’d come from before anyone called her out on being one of the chief instigators of the lynching.

Although she’d not spoken up in Tsuyu’s defense, Azula had noticed Dany’s out-of-character behavior. The frog girl had been doomed even before they’d arrived. She’d seen that clearly. Attempting to intercede would have only caused further bloodshed. The thought that the Legions had someone on the inside to help with their assault seemed likely. After watching Dany feed Tsuyu up to the angry mob, she had a much clearer idea of who the spy might be. But she had to make sure. She turned and followed after the blonde, determined to find out.

“This is getting out of hand,” Azula said to Dany as she caught up to the woman. Aside from them, the section was deserted. Good, Azula thought. No risk of anyone getting in my way. “We should radio out to Alice and Aiden. See if they can circle back around to provide some covering fire from outside.”

Dany paused, turning back to Azula. The Guts’ psychic connection allowed them access to certain information. There’d been enough altercations with the scouting party to have a general sense of the party members, even if they didn’t know actual identities. Still, there was something in Azula’s tone. Something that seemed suspicious, like the suggestion was some form of trick. Using the context clues provided, the Guts managed to work their way around to what seemed like an appropriate response. “You’re more distressed than you look,” Dany replied. “Aiden died out there weeks ago.”

Azula shook her head. “Right. I forgot. Still, we should contact them. Let them know what’s happening.”

“I agree,” Dany replied. The Guts were confident they’d passed the test. Luring the pesky scouting party into a trap would be quite the benefit. Still, Azula’s suspicions made her a threat. The woman would have to be dealt with. “Let’s go do that now.” There weren’t many survivors in the section they’d become trapped in, but they were still too close to where Tsuyu had been lynched to risk killing Azula in the hall. They needed someplace more private. The communications room seemed as good a place as any.

The pair continued down the passage. Azula let a few moments of silence pass between them. “One thing’s for certain,” she muttered. “Anna’s not going to be pleased when she sees what they did to her shop.”

Dany let out a disgruntled sigh. “Well, she’s the idiot who snuck outside and got herself killed,” she grumbled. She made it a few more steps before realizing that Azula had stopped walking. She turned back to the woman, seeing the glare on her face. “What?”

Fire erupted from Azula’s hand, swirling into a ball of blistering blue heat which she didn’t hesitate to fling into Dany’s face. The blonde was thrown back from the blast, crumpling to the floor. “Got you, you bitch,” Azula snarled.


Is it possible for cunts to be destroyed or removed entirely? Or debreastings? Maybe even pregnant victims?






Chapter Forty-Eight: Azula

The sphere of blue fire exploded around Daenerys’s body, consuming her completely. Her clothing caught fire, burning away to ash in moments. The triumphantly angry look on Azula’s face shifted to one of frustration as she saw Dany’s flesh withstand the scorching heat of her flames. The treacherous woman’s body glowed from the flames as they licked across her skin, glistening with sweat and smudged with the ash of her burnt clothing, but otherwise unharmed. With a yell, Azula threw another ball of glowing blue flames into her unexpected adversary. “Damn you,” she hissed, conjuring another ball to throw, hoping that more heat would solve her problems.

An amused smirk crossed Dany’s face as she charged through the flickering flames. It was unfortunate that her cover had been blown, but with the attack on the Bunker progressing with relative smoothness, she no longer truly needed it. And with no one else in the hall, maintaining her secret would be as simple as bringing Azula to a tortured end. Considering she’d been planning on killing the young woman regardless, the fact that Azula had figured out her true intentions didn’t much matter. On the contrary, the Guts controlling her from within were thrilled to engage in a proper fight.

Between the lingering remnants of Seras’s vampiric bloodlust and Dany’s ability to withstand even the most extreme heat, dealing with the fire-slinging nuisance would be easy and fun. A length of intestine pushed smoothly from Dany’s rear, curling around to lash out at Azula. The look of shocked horror on her face was priceless. The sudden burning pain as Azula launched another fireball into the writhing tendril was significantly less so. Dany twisted to the side, the length of Guts yanking behind her, using her heat-resistant flesh as a shield. Azula ducked away, keeping the distance between them and managing to move behind Dany fast enough to give the Guts another blast of fire.

Dany jerked around, taking the brunt of Azula’s next fireball against her plump breasts. The fleshy mounds rippled from the force of the impact but remained smooth and unblemished. She let out a soft groan of pleasurable strain as two more lengths of the Guts pushed free from her stretched sphincter. The fleshy ropes of innards wiggled with eagerness against her backside, waiting for a break in Azula’s attacks to whip around and surge towards the woman. The desire to snare Azula, pull her apart and stuff the pieces back into her, was overwhelming, but the Firebender wasn’t dumb. Vibrant blue heat exploded from her hands, singing away the ends of the intestines rushing towards her and sending them slithering back up Dany’s ass.

Azula didn’t know what had happened to Daenerys. The fact that she’d somehow been corrupted by the Legions had been obvious. She’d not expected the animated innards. As horrifying as the discovery was, she’d at least been able to learn that as impervious as Dany’s outer skin was to fire, the same could not be said for her twisted insides. She used that to her advantage as much as she could, picking off the swirling lengths of gut that occasionally slid free from the woman’s body. But it only helped to keep herself safe. Despite the damage she caused, Dany didn’t seem to be suffering all that much from the burns her nightmarish guts endured.

The pain radiating within Dany from within her was significant, but like a hungry squid, the Guts were determined to work out the puzzle-box of Azula’s demise. Her belly shifted and distended from the innards writhing about within her, anxiously plotting some means of bringing the fight to the end and seeing just how much of Azula’s insides they could pull out before the woman expired. But on top of the constant barrage of fireballs, Azula was quick. Every attempt the Guts made to snag her was met with fiery destruction and a speedy retreat. The playfully homicidal glint in Dany’s eyes became one of rage. “Just let me kill you, Azula,” she growled. “I promise, I’ll make it fun for you. You won’t believe how good these things feel inside you.”

Adrenaline kept Azula’s reaction time up, managing to leave bits of the Guts as charred chunks littering the floor. But she knew that would only last so long. She could feel her energy waning with each blast she fired. She might have been progressing towards ending whatever evil infested Dany’s body, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough. She needed a plan. One that didn’t involve dancing around her foe for an unspecified amount of time. I need to get the fire inside her, she thought. That might do the trick. With her clothing gone, Dany was about as vulnerable as she could get. Azula’s face constricted with disgust as the pieces of her plan snapped into place. It would be risky, but she knew she had to try.

Azula waited for the Guts to attack once more, frying them back into Dany’s body. This time, instead of retreating, she charged towards the woman. The spark of surprise in Dany’s eyes was satisfying, knowing she’d caught the corrupted woman off-guard. Grabbing hold of the back of Dany’s neck, Azula gripped tightly, holding the woman close. A frenzied bit of intestine tried to push free from the folds of Dany’s cunt, but Azula was quick to slab a flaming hand against her crotch, burning it back into the woman’s body. The outer lips of Dany’s sex were just as resilient as the rest of her. Azula needed to get inside.

Extending her fingers, Azula shoved them into Dany’s pussy. The feel of her slick cunt walls clenching around her made her want to puke, but she kept on pushing, forcing more of her digits within the cramped orifice. Once she managed to squirm her pinkie into Dany, Azula closed her fingers into a fist and punched her way deeper into her. Dany let out a grunt from the impact, her eyes filling with fear as she realized what Azula intended to do. Her struggles intensified, trying to throw the Firebender away from her. Azula cringed as the gnashing teeth of one end of the Guts sunk into her knuckles, but she didn’t pull away. Even if she lost her hand, she needed to finish the fight.

Azula ignored the pain and focused her energy, blue flames erupting from her bleeding fingers and burning the chomping end of the Guts deeper into Dany’s body. Tightening her hold on Dany, Azula let out a yell as she forced more fire into her. The corrupted woman’s flesh rippled wildly as the Guts flailed within her, desperately trying to escape the scorching heat consuming and destroying them. She cried out as the Guts lashed out at her hand again, boldly rushing into the flames in a desperate attempt to bring an end to the assault. Azula clenched her teeth and kept on pouring flames into Dany. The terror in the blonde’s eyes was enough to know her plan was succeeding.

When Dany’s jaw stretched open, Azula expected a scream, or a plea for mercy. She barely noticed the rising bulge surging up the woman’s throat. By the time she did, the clump of slithering intestines and glistening teeth were already rushing from Dany’s mouth. Azula reflexively jerked her head back, squeezing her eyes shut, ready to have her face chewed into a messy pulp. But she didn’t pull her hand out of Dany. She didn’t relent in her attack. If she was going to die, she was at least going to take the corrupted woman with her.

With a sudden burst, Azula’s face was soaked with gore. Her ears rang from the short blast of concussive rattle that filled the hall. She kept her eyes closed, kept the fire burning, wondering why having her face eaten didn’t hurt. She finally let her eyes slide open as Dany’s body slumped limply against her. A surprised gasp passed her blood-soaked lips as she stared at the gruesome stump of Dany’s neck, several torn chunks of Guts flopping about from the hole of her throat. She turned to see the Baroness standing just behind her, smoke wafting from the barrel of her machine pistol.

“Thanks,” Azula panted. She winced as she eased her hand out of Dany’s corpse. The headless body flopped to the floor, showing no signs of life. Baroness stepped forward and emptied the remainder of her magazine into Dany’s chest and belly, just to be sure. With the threat dealt with, Azula turned her attention to her hand. Several gouges marred the tops of her knuckles, blood flowing steadily down her wrist. Her pinkie hung loosely from a few strained threads of skin. Clenching her jaw, she took the mostly severed finger in her uninjured hand and tore it away. Blood pumped steadily from the stump. With a twist of her hand, she ignited a much smaller flame, bracing herself for the pain as she cauterized the small stump.

Once the bleeding stopped, Azula examined the mangled stump of burnt flesh. At least it’s not as noticeable as Zuko’s face, she thought with a frown before turning to Baroness. “Since you’re here, I suspect things have only gotten worse.”

Baroness nodded as she reloaded her machine pistol. “New instructions from Satsuki. We’re going to use the explosives we have to blow the Bunker, sealing off the possibility of a rear assault while attempting to push through the enemy’s frontline.”

“Sounds like suicide,” Azula muttered.

The Baroness didn’t disagree.


Kerrigan’s Child released a frustrated hiss, passing before the damaged rear entrance of the Bunker. The assault had been going well, but it was clear it would not be as simple as the creature had hoped. The death caused by the Plague Ratt had been minimized due to Starfire’s selflessness. And now with the Guts destroyed, the Child no longer had the advantage of knowing what the survivors were planning. The time for careful plotting and an organized manipulation of the sickening life within the Bunker was over. Brute force would be costlier, but it would get the job done. And once the stronghold was destroyed, the Necropolis could return to its previous imbalance, where life was not given the chance to flourish.

The pack of undead gathered around Rebecca Chambers wasn’t as significant as the force assaulting the front entrance, but it would be enough to create a fair bit of destruction and death. The Child gave her underling the psychic command to begin her assault. A twisted grin spread across Rebecca’s face as she turned and started towards the Bunker entrance. She froze just before entering it, her grin faltering.

Kerrigan’s Child moved forward, pausing to lovingly trace her fingers across Rebecca’s face. A wet gurgle crept up from her throat as she stretched her previously unused vocal chords. “Let us share this slaughter, my child,” she growled out, her voice a damp whisper.

Rebecca’s grin returned, even larger than before. Her eyes filled with lustful awe as she watched the Child turn and stalk into the Bunker.


Chapter Forty-Nine: Jack

With Daenerys’s headless, bullet-riddled, smoking carcass still in the hall, and Elsa and Emily both missing – highly presumed dead – the Bunker’s command room was noticeably less populated than it should have been. Azula stretched her injured hand within the bandages Baroness had wrapped her in. The movement was stiff from the trauma and sent fresh sparks of pain radiating up her arm, but she was confident she could still move her remaining fingers well enough to bend fire. She found Satsuki waiting for her, along with three other women. She’d seen them around the Bunker enough to know their names, but little else. Given the fact that she’d probably have to send them to their deaths sooner rather than later, she was thankful she’d not gotten close to any of them.

Satsuki had the hastily conceived plans in order by the time Azula arrived. They were simple enough. Jack, Gogo, and Jade would handle planting the explosives. They had enough bombs and knowledge of the Bunker to bring the place down. Azula was in charge of leading the remainder of the survivors out the front, launching a final, desperate attack to break through the frontlines and hopefully escape into the city. The chances of survival outside weren’t great, but they’d become a whole lot better than continuing to live inside the Bunker.

“What about you?” Azula asked Satsuki.

“I’ll remain here,” she said. “I’ll wait for the others to return after placing the bombs and do my best to bold of any attacks that might come from this direction.”

Azula didn’t like it, but she didn’t have any better ideas. With the orders given, the group split up to attend to their desperate duties.


Jack cradled an arm around the small sack of explosive devices slung over her shoulder. There weren’t many left. She ran a hand over the stubble covering the top of her head. After the shit she’d been through, she’d gotten good at maintaining a constant level of aloof toughness, but the situation in the Bunker had her more rattled than she wanted to admit. Rubbing her head was a subtle, but distinct, indication of her worry. Maybe I should grow it back out, she thought. Not fully. Like a mohawk ponytail or some shit.

Future hairstyles were not her primary concern, but the thought did make for a nice distraction as she stalked through the Bunker, unable to shake the sense that something was watching her. Chill the hell out, she told herself firmly. If there’s one stupid, shitty silver lining to this clusterfuck of a day, at least the cheerleader’s dead. Taken apart with a fucking chainsaw. Who saw that coming? The small spark of satisfaction Jack took from knowing her nemesis’s corpse was probably getting stuffed full of all sorts of things was tempered by the knowledge that, despite her hatred of the woman, Miranda had been a valuable asset. Jack rolled her eyes and moved in to plant another of the bombs.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “I’m way tougher than that cunt ever was.”

Adhering the explosive to a bulkhead, Jack went through the routine of arming the device. The steady red light that greeted her told her she’d done it properly. Her eyes shifted from the bomb to the cramped passage beyond, realizing she’d never noticed it before. She tried to think where it might lead, unable to remember any other sections of the Bunker in that direction. The thought that it might be another entry point into the survivors’ sanctuary had just dawn on her when the creature appeared before her.

The startled yell that escaped Jack’s lips contrasted against her tough, heavily inked persona as she threw herself back from Anna’s secret passage. The massive snake-like creature slithered its way towards her with startling speed. Jack tossed the sack of explosives aside, hoping they wouldn’t trigger from the impact with the floor, and grabbed for the shotgun slung against her leg. She brought the weapon up in time to shred the spray of adhesive silk the Seamstress fired at her. Pumping the weapon, Jack adjusted her aim and fired again, managing to take off one of the thing’s spider-like appendages. Thick yellow blood gushed from the wiggling stump left behind as the Seamstress let out an enraged hiss of pain and surged closer to Jack.

The Seamstress’s tail whipped around, smacking Jack’s shotgun to the side as she fired a third time. The buckshot pinged uselessly against the wall as the weapon flipped out of her grip. “Fuck,” Jack yelled, making a lunge for the shotgun. The creature’s tail knocked her back before slithering around her frame. Thrown off balance, Jack fell into the Seamstress’s upper body. She tried to pull free of the snake-like monster, but the thing’s tail continued to circle around her body, holding her firmly. Jack beat her fists against the tough scales. “Let me the fuck go, goddammit!” Her blows didn’t do much. As the coils tightened around her, she found it increasingly difficult to land them with any significant force.

The Seamstress had intended to crush Jack into a bloody pulp and move on. The Child’s orders to take a more proactive approach to the Bunker demanded quick, fatal strikes. But the pain the bald woman had inflicted encouraged the snake-like creature to prolong her suffering just a little longer. Shifting its coils upwards to wrap around Jack’s mostly bare torso, it pinned her flailing arms to her sides and allowed her to kick her legs freely. The kicks caused about as much discomfort as the woman’s punches. Guiding the tip of its tail down the back of Jack’s flight suit, the Seamstress forced the clothing further down, leaving her bare ass exposed.

Jack’s breath was restricted to urgent wheezes as the coils threatened to collapse her ribs. With her arms trapped within the Seamstress’s coils and her lowered flight suit tangled around her thighs, she could only squirm within the creature’s clutches. She didn’t know if the thing could read facial expressions and didn’t much care. Glaring into the thing’s face, she mouthed out the words ‘fuck you’, clinging to defiance in the face of humiliating death. Is it too late to ask for the chainsaw death? Her eyes bulged as the Seamstress rammed its tail through her asshole. The tip was slender enough to slide in with ease, but as it thickened, she found her sphincter stretched painfully.

Jack had a special kind of appreciation for anal sex. The roughness it inspired, the unique discomfort it caused, helped to distract her from the shit show of her life. There was nothing quite like a spirited anal pounding – followed by grinding her damp cunt into the face of her lover until she got what she really needed – to leave her blissfully removed from reality. As the Seamstress plunged ever deeper into her bowels, she could no longer see the appeal. Clenching her ass muscles around the writhing length, Jack’s anger surged. Like Miranda, her biotic powers had been muted by whatever force permeated the Necropolis. But despite the personal hardships she’d endured, Miranda had never achieved the same level of simmering rage that permeated Jack on a daily basis.

Clenching her teeth, Jack gathered the biotic energy within herself. A glowing blue light emanated from her body. With a strained, half-strangled gasp, she unleashed the power on her attacker. The force sent a shudder through the Bunker around them. Steel bent, bolts snapped, and the Seamstress’s tough scales gave way. The creature released a high-pitched wail as its body was cleaved in half. The severed portion of tail buried deep within Jack’s ass gave off a reflexive twitch that nearly ripped her guts apart before tugging free from the stretched orifice. The coils loosened from around her, allowing her to pull herself free and roll back from the creature as its yellow blood and slippery innards poured from the two halves of its body.

Gooey chunks of Elsa’s crushed and partially digested body plopped from the Seamstress’s ruptured stomach. The creature continued to shriek, using a pair of its bony limbs to grab the chunks of its stolen meal and attempt to shove them back inside itself. When that failed, the dying Seamstress turned on Jack. With its strength fading and half its body gone, it did the best it could to charge towards the woman, intent on finishing the job it had started. Elsa’s head – skeletal jaw half unhinged and hollowed eye sockets staring into oblivion – plopped from the Seamstress’s torn flesh. It spider-like limbs drew back, ready to skewer Jack.

With her flight suit still tangled around her thighs, Jack scrambled for her shotgun. She managed to grab the weapon and twist around, sore ass pressing against the cold steel of the floor. She pumped a fresh round into the chamber and fired. The Seamstress’s face vanished in a spray of sloppy yellow chunks. Jack rolled to the side as the creature collapsed over her, narrowly avoiding the pointed limbs. She lay with her legs pinned under the hellish nightmare for a few moments, catching her breath. When she was certain the Seamstress was dead, she set the shotgun aside and scooted out from under the thing’s body.

Tugging her flight suit back into place, Jack got to her feet. She collected her shotgun and the bag of explosives. It had been a close call, but she didn’t have time – nor the desire – to dwell on it. “Get fucked, bitch,” she snarled to the Seamstress’s ruined form as she trudged through the thick sludge of its blood and guts. “Gotta be tougher than that to take my ass down.” She winced as the throbbing in her rear reminded her that she didn’t want to even mention asses anytime soon.


Chapter Fifty: Gogo Tomago

The Bunker lacked the tools for Gogo Tomago to get her mag-lev wheels in fully functional order, but they still worked well enough to provide her a speedy edge as she made her way to plant her allotment of explosives. She pushed the wheels to go faster, both due to the urgency of the situation as well as her own desire to feel some real speed. I could’ve planted all the bombs myself if I could move a bit faster, she thought bitterly. Her bubblegum popped wetly within the confines of her helmet. The stick had been stale, but it was tolerable. She’d not regretted the trade she’d made with Anna to secure the old pack of gum.

Reaching the section just before the hub where Anna’s shop had been, Gogo skidded to a stop. The mob had dispersed, but the results of their actions still dangled from the ceiling. Tsuyu’s swollen, discolored face and bulging eyes created a haunting visage. She’d heard the shop had been looted, that some kind of biological weapon had gone off, that people had been upset, but she’d not known it had gone so far. She’d not known the frog-like girl very well, but it was hard to imagine anyone deserving the cruelty she saw painted across her dead face. The urge to at least cut the young woman down rose within Gogo.

That urge was dashed a moment later as a heavy pounding sounded from the sealed door leading towards Anna’s shop. One glance towards the window showed Gogo the horde of undead just beyond. The hatch would hold out, but not forever. There had never been a greater need for speed. Pushing aside the sympathy she had for Tsuyu and the tickle in the back of her brain that wondered if the Bunker’s survivors were really worth saving, she hurried to the door. Her hands moved into the satchel she carried, pulling out several explosives. The sealed hatch was the only way into the Bunker from the rear of the complex. Satsuki had been clear about not letting anything go to chance. She wanted the area completely destroyed.

Planting the explosives required time and delicacy. Gogo’s persistent urge to fly through life at top speed made it difficult for her to provide such things. The heavy beating against the sealed hatch only made her want to work faster. She fought back both of those things as she guided the bombs to the points Satsuki had specified. The zombies could see her through the glass. Having such a tasty treat so close and yet impossible to reach had them riled up. Her eyes flicked from what she was doing to the door, noticing the way it was shifting within its frame. The thing wouldn’t last nearly as long as she’d hoped it would.

Gogo finished planting the last explosive. She turned away from the door, ready to be out of the room and as far away from the Bunker as possible. She had to return to Satsuki first to inform her that she’d completed her task. She didn’t see Kerrigan’s Child moving to the front of the crowd of monsters beating against the door. She’d barely moved forward as the Child used her impressive strength to kick down the door. The sound of twisting and snapping metal filled Gogo’s ears. She made the mistake of glancing back, just in time to see the heavy hatch coming down on her. She let out a yell as the solid steel connected with her back and flung her forward.

Gogo hit the floor hard, firm breasts mashing against her chest. A moment later, the door landed on top of her. She screamed into her helmet as the weight of the metal pinned her. Only her head and right arm protruded from beneath the torn slab of steel. She planted her palm against the floor and tried to push the weight off of her, managing only a slight bit of movement before she was shoved back down from the weight of the undead spilling through the now open passage. Her teeth clenched around the wad of gum in her mouth, panic filling her alongside the knowledge that she had no way of escaping the horrors.

The Child let her minions spill past her, surging into the area beyond. They took no notice of the grunt, squirming lump of flesh pinned beneath the door. Rebecca wasted no time moving deeper into the Bunker. The rest of the zombies took a little longer to move after her. The Child was not concerned. The shuffling bags of rotting flesh were better served as an encroaching mass, fucking and devouring anything in their path. With the Cockworm infesting her, Rebecca was far better suited for more precise actions. The hanging carcass of Tsuyu amused the Child and drew the attention of the zombies. They began to move towards the lynched frog girl.

As the weight of the zombies left the collapsed hatch, Gogo found it easier to move. Lifting the hunk of metal off of her was still impossible, but she found she could scoot, just a little. She could see the zombies heading for Tsuyu’s body. It made her sick to think that the senseless killing might be the only thing saving her from her own death, but she tried not to think about it as she gradually inched her way out from under the door. The progress was painfully slow, maybe even impossible, but she had no choice but to try. She didn’t like the way her back and legs felt, wasn’t even sure she’d be able to stand if she got free, but it didn’t stop her from trying.

Kerrigan’s Child noticed Gogo’s efforts. Stepping forward and lifting a foot, she stomped onto the door. The trapped woman let out a pained yelp as the weight of the door pressed down on her. The little amount of movement she’d been capable of vanished. Gogo strained to turn her head, to see what was standing on the door. The Child relished the look of terror she saw in Gogo’s eyes behind the visor of her helmet. She kept her foot firmly planted, nodding towards the dangling form of the frog girl. “Witness it, morsel,” she beckoned. “Even your dead will not be spared.” Gogo didn’t want to look. But she did.

The zombies reached Tsuyu’s body. They tugged and pulled at the young woman’s clothing until it tore away. She was nearly stripped bare by the time they started trying to pull her down from the rope. Her neck stretched, stale drool coaxed from her slack lips. The noose cinched tightly around her throat held firm, only resulting in Tsuyu’s spine snapping from the growing pressure. Her body sank a few inches towards the ground, far enough for the undead man before her to gather up her legs and bring his throbbing erection against her stripped snatch. With a satisfied growl, he plunged into the cold depths of her cunt, leaning in to start chewing at one of her small breasts.

A second zombie moved behind Tsuyu, sinking his teeth into her shoulder and his cock up her tight little ass. The undead men pumped their pricks into her with growing force, chewing away more and more of her flesh. A few more zombies managed to squeeze in close enough to rub their drooling members against her soft skin, or to tear bits of her away. The lengthy flap of bloody muscle tissue that had been the frog girl’s tongue caught the murky eye of one of the living dead. He crouched and gathered the thing up, shoving the end of it into his mouth. His rotten teeth chewed against the elongated tongue for a little while before finding it too difficult a task. Swallowing Tsuyu’s tongue down, the severed base of it swayed against his chin as he slowly sucked it up into his mouth.

When she decided Gogo had seen enough of Tsuyu’s post-mortem gangbang and consumption, she pressed her foot against the door harder. Gogo managed a scream as her shins shattered, mag-lev wheels crunching into shards of debris left deeply embedded in her mangled feet. Tears gushed from her eyes, the thought of never being able to walk – let alone run – ever again somehow feeling worse than the impending death coming for her. She slapped her free hand against the floor, urgently trying to pull herself out from under the door as the Child continued to press down. Her meaty thighs and plump buttocks provided little protection from the rising pressure. With a series of hard pops and snaps, her pelvic bone shattered. It happened too fast for Gogo to truly feel it, but she gave violent, bloody birth to her own reproductive system before it was crushed flat between her legs.

Gogo’s breath came in quick pants through clenched teeth as her crushing continued. The coppery taste of blood filled her throat and dribbled from her lips as her guts were flattened. By some miracle, the wad of gum wound up back between her teeth just in time to catch the last bit of her oxygen as her ribs collapsed. Gogo blew one final bubble, the pink of the gum darkening as blood gushed into the fragile construct of stretched synthetic rubber. The bubble ruptured, splashing across the visor of Gogo’s helmet and leaving her slackened face drenched. Her dying eyes bulged as a torrent of blood and pulverized organs vomited from her mouth as the Child stomped down on the door one last time.

With a wet tearing, Gogo’s head and arm ripped away from the rest of her flattened form, riding a small wave of her crushed gore. The Child twisted her foot from side to side for good measure, feeling the satisfaction of the torturous death flowing through her. Gogo’s head rolled to a stop, face plate turned up. With the thick layer of crimson covering the inside of the helmet, there was no sign of the young woman’s face. The Child did not need to see it. She could easily imagine the look of horror and pain fixed there. Stepping fully into the area, she leaned down to snatch up Gogo’s severed arm. Prying away the armor and fabric covering the limb, she found it to be a pleasant appetizer.

The zombie who’d eaten Tsuyu’s tongue snatched up Gogo’s severed head. Frustrated with waiting for his turn with the frog girl’s corpse, he smacked his cock against the faceplate of Gogo’s helmet, leaving it smeared with his pre-cum. He shifted and turned the head in his fumbling hands, trying to plunge into something fleshy and still warm. It wasn’t until he noticed the drizzle of blood and thick gory sludge draining from the bottom of the helmet that he found her torn esophagus. The zombie groaned as he fucked his way up the back of Gogo’s throat. He jerked her head back and forth against his crotch, especially enjoying the persistent death twitch that caused her tongue to occasionally flutter against the tip of his member.

Gogo’s throat emitted a continues series of wet slurps as the zombie fucked her head. His steady rhythm broke as enough of Tsuyu’s body was consumed to let her body finally drop away from the noose. The brief pause left the head of his dick resting against Gogo’s tongue. Another of the muscular tremors sent the slab of muscle against him, driving him to a sudden release. Gooey white streaks splattered across Gogo’s faceplate, blending with the blood to create a pinkish slop. After he finished pumping his load up the dead woman’s gullet, the zombie pried her head away from his crotch.

Still contained within the helmet, the severed head could do nothing to satiate the zombie’s hunger. He let it drop from his hands. It thudded back to the floor and rolled aside. The zombie’s brow furrowed as he caught sight of the stringy length of stretched gum clinging to his bloody member. Peeling the gum away from his cock, the undead man wadded it up in his fingers. The briefest flicker of memory in his reanimated brain inspired him to push the gum into his mouth and start chewing. Gogo’s extensive usage had sapped the stale gum of its lingering sweetness long before her demise, but now soaked in the woman’s gore and the zombie’s cum, it contained a freshness that the walking corpse quite enjoyed.


Chapter Fifty-One: Jade

Jade stuck her last bomb to a crossbeam, ensuring that the T-junction would be reduced to rubble. Aside from the eeriness of the Bunker being so devoid of life, she’d managed to plant her share of explosives without trouble. She was glad to be done with the task, eager to join the forces preparing to fight their way through the hordes at the front of the Bunker. Following orders came naturally to her, but she only felt truly satisfied on the battlefield. Aside from the horrors she’d dispatched before making her way to the Bunker, she’d not gotten the chance to kill anything since arriving in the Necropolis. She didn’t know if she’d be lucky enough – or strong enough – to survive the ordeal, but she made a vow to herself to at least feel the blood of her enemies against her skin one more time before she died.

That chance presented itself far faster than Jade anticipated. She almost never got it at all, suspecting the quick footfalls she heard from beside her to be a panicked survivor. She turned towards the sound, not recognizing the blonde rushing towards her. When she noticed no signs of panic, only malicious glee, in Zelda’s undead eyes, Jade realized the woman was a threat. She readied herself to attack, barely hearing the softer footsteps behind her. Not bothering to check, Jade threw herself into a flip to the side, back down the hall she’d come down, narrowly avoiding Rebecca’s clutching hands. She ducked back to avoid a kick from Zelda, pulling her staff free and flipping it up in front of her.

The women weren’t typical zombies. That much was obvious from the way they moved. Even the slower one lacked the jerky sluggishness of typical undead husks. Beyond that, she saw a spark of intelligence in their milky eyes. Good, she thought, shifting her eyes from Zelda to Rebecca and back again. That means they might actually be a little bit of a challenge for me. As she let the pair close the distance a little, she singled Zelda out as the bigger threat. She had speed. It was a trait Jade shared. Making a feinting lunge towards Zelda, Jade spun and snapped a foot into Rebecca’s chest, knocking the undead woman away to give her time to deal with the blonde.

Although she’d spent the bulk of her young life in the luxury of royalty, Zelda had undergone enough combat training that her undead muscles knew how to carry themselves. After concluding her mission inside the bunker, she’d been on the prowl for something to kill. Her murderous urges were – if anything – stronger than Jade’s. She met the woman’s attack eagerly, feeling something other than the need to fuck and eat since becoming one of the undead. The thrill of combat drove her to match Jade’s speed, managing to dodge the swing of the woman’s staff several times and land a few powerful blows.

Jade picked up on Zelda’s training quickly, as well as her inexperience. That paired with the singular mindset of even her advanced undead brain made it almost too easy to set the blonde up. The strikes she endured were far from pleasant, but the dull pain radiating from her stricken flesh was like an old friend to her; easy to embrace and endure. Moving with the blows just before they connected helped to reduce their force. She barely felt the swiping kick to her jaw, spinning from it as soon as she felt the impact. Turning away from Zelda, she dropped low and shoved her staff back at a high angle. The move came too fast for even the enhanced zombie.

The sharp end of Jade’s staff smashed through Zelda’s teeth and punched through the back of her throat. Her body snapped rigid as the smooth metal cracked through the back of her skull, sending a sneeze of rotting brain matter against the wall behind her. Zelda’s eyes bulged, hands flopping against her hips and lips instinctively sucking at the rod-like thing stuffing her mouth before the twisted life animating her corpse faded away. With a hard yank, Jade pulled her staff free from Zelda’s head. The blonde’s body dropped to the floor in a limp heap.

What Rebecca lacked in speed and inherent fighting prowess, she made up for with wits. The Cockworm had returned a portion of her intelligence, albeit twisted to fit the desires of the Child. As Jade and Zelda sparred, she stayed back, watched. She’d seen the trick Jade concocted before it had culminated in Zelda’s end. She’d had the option of interceding, but even amongst the Child’s most favored, there was a spark of jealousy and desire to be the most prized. Besides, even Zelda’s failure served a purpose. Even if she’d been the favored winner, Jade had taken a bit of a beating from Zelda and now the woman’s confidence was bolstered by the seemingly easy triumph.

With Zelda dealt with, Jade turned her full focus on Rebecca. The undead woman was slower, but still fast enough to dodge her strikes – or block them with her arms when needed. Jade pressed her attacks, forcing Rebecca back. Dealing with her was proving to be more of an effort than she’d expected, but she only needed a single opening to leave Rebecca just as dead as her undead friend. Something in the back of her head told her to stay cautious, but after dealing with what she suspected was the stronger of the pair, it was an easy warning sign to ignore.

Jade realized she’d overcommitted to the lunging strike with her staff just before Rebecca’s hands clamped down around the weapon. She let out a yell as the undead woman yanked the staff from her hands. She dropped it and lunged towards Jade, slamming her shoulder onto the woman’s bust and wrapping her arms around the small of her back. With her body already unbalanced, Rebecca had little trouble tackling Jade to the floor. The sharp elbow Jade slammed into her side did little to dissuade her. Her dead flesh was even better at taking strikes than Jade’s toned body.

It wasn’t that Jade didn’t know how to defend herself without her staff, but after training with the weapon for so long, her hand-to-hand technique had suffered. The undead woman’s iron-like grip wasn’t unbreakable, but it was close. The pair wrestled violently, struggling for position. Rebecca’s gnashing teeth made the struggle even more tricky for Jade. She’d seen what a zombie’s bit would lead to. Becoming another member of the undead was not on her list of things to do. Jade’s top tore during the scuffle, exposing her firm, tanned breasts. Rebecca’s eyes shifted to the mounds of flesh, making the wardrobe malfunction a much needed distraction for the assassin.

Jade yanked an arm free from Rebecca’s grip and reached out to grab her staff, thankful that the weapon was still within reach. The shock of her sudden nudity didn’t keep Rebecca distracted for long. She slammed her hand down against Jade’s wrist, keeping her arm pinned to the floor, unable to properly wield her staff. Behind her green veil, Jade smirked. The subtle shifting of fabric wasn’t enough to clue Rebecca in on Jade’s thoughts. A green aura erupted from the staff. The weapon retracted in on itself before vanishing completely. She tugged her other hand free from Rebecca before the undead woman’s clever brain could figure out what had happened.

With an emerald flash, Jade’s razorang appeared in her opposite hand. She jerked her arm up, slashing one of the blades through Rebecca’s throat. Rebecca’s eyes widened with shock as the razorang cleaved through the meat of her neck, separating her head from her body for a second time. Her head tilted back, allowing a heavy spray of dark blood to splatter across Jade’s face. The assassin twisted her head to the side to avoid the bulk of the stale blood. The stuff stank, far sludgier than living blood, but it still left her with that tingle of excitement she’d been yearning for.

Unlike her previous experience with decapitation, the light did not dim in Rebecca’s undead eyes as her head began to topple from the rest of her body. With the central mass of the Cockworm buried in her head, she was able to survive. Tendrils sprang from the bottom of her neck, whipping about wildly for a moment before latching around Rebecca’s shoulders. Her head tilted forward again, briefly sliding back into its proper place. Just long enough to give Jade a grin and enjoy the look of confused horror in the woman’s eyes. Not giving her the chance to get free from the dead weight of Rebecca’s body, the animated head sprang onto Jade.

Jade shoved Rebecca’s limp form away, one arm coming up to try to pry the slithering tendrils away. The things moved too fast, looping around the arm holding the razorang and around her neck. The stump of Rebecca’s neck dragged over the top of Jade’s head, the Cockworm’s tendrils tugging at her. Jade screamed as the ropey tendrils yanked her arm from its socket, sending the razorang clattering to the floor. The pain of her dislocated arm became the least of Jade’s worries as Rebecca’s head began to yank harder on her own. She slammed her clenched fist into the side of the living head, trying to knock it away.

Jade howled as her neck stretched to its limits. Her skin tore like a jagged seam across her throat, blood pouring out of her, flowing through the valley of her cleavage. Muscle and tendon snapped with sharp cracks. Her scream ended with a messy exhalation of air and blood from her throat as her windpipe snapped open. Jerking upwards, Rebecca’s head dragged several gory inches of Jade’s spine from her body before giving the mostly severed head a hard twist. Bone splintered and Jade’s head came away from her flailing body. The woman’s face dulled, twitching spastically as she died. Rolling the head around in its tendrils, the Cockworm tossed it aside.

After losing her body for a second time, Rebecca’s head decided it was time for an upgrade. The tendrils slid into the stump of Jade’s neck, sliding into and through her body and pulling Rebecca’s head snugly into place. The undead medic’s pale skin tone mismatched against Jade’s tanned flesh. As the Cockworm infested the new form and asserted control over the recently snuffed out flesh, Jade’s dislocated arm popped back into place. Lifting her new hands, Rebecca ran them across the bloody tits she’d been admiring, releasing a soft, raspy giggle as she tweaked Jade’s brown nipples. The sensation of touching flesh that now belonged to her but not her own stirred Rebecca’s lust in a way she’d not felt since suffering her slowly fatal zombie bite.

Tugging aside the crotch of Jade’s outfit – soaked with the juices she’d worked up during battle and the piss she’d drained as she’d died – Rebecca reached over to grab the woman’s severed head. Pulling Jade’s face against her loins, she ground the woman’s own sopping cunt against her slack lips. The tip of Jade’s nose pressed pleasantly against now-Rebecca’s aching clit. Clutching fistfuls of the dead assassin’s hair, she arched her back, mashing her messy sex against Jade’s face with growing force. It may have lacked the pleasant fullness having a cock inside her provided, but it was more than enough to get her to a very satisfying orgasm.


“Bomb’s are in place,” Jack told Satsuki as she returned to the command center. “And you can scratch one freaky snake-fuck off the list, too.”

A look of concern crossed Satsuki’s face. “The others?”

“I didn’t see them and I don’t care enough to risk my life to go looking for them,” the tattooed woman shot back, absently reaching back to give her ass a gentle rub. “Are we good to blow this shit heap?”

“I hope so,” Satsuki replied. “Go on ahead to join the main assault group. I’m going to wait a little longer to see if Gogo and Jade make it back.”

Jack sighed and headed towards the exit. “Like it matters,” she muttered on her way out. “We’ll all probably be dead soon enough anyway.”

It wasn’t long after Jack left that Satsuki heard the heavy stomping of feet coming her way. She prepared to hit the trigger for the explosives, not nearly naïve enough to assume the stomps were from Gogo or Jade. Her suspicions were confirmed as Kerrigan’s Child squeezed into the command center. With Gogo’s severed head clutched in one hand – finally pried free from her helmet – it was a safe bet that Jade wouldn’t be coming either. Satsuki hit the trigger without hesitation.

The Bunker shook violently as explosions ripped their way through the expansive structure. Satsuki could see a pack of zombies advancing just behind the Child. As the destruction crept closer, the shuffling figures were crushed under the rubble. A plume of smoke and dust rushed into the command center, thick enough to even obscure the Child’s hulking figure momentarily. The command center was saved from the collapse, but there was no longer any way out of the room. The path to the front, to the rest of the survivors, was buried under chunks of cement and twisted metal.

“This ends here, monster,” Satsuki told the Child.

The Child let out a slithering laugh, lifting Gogo’s head up and ripping the majority of her face away. She chewed messily, swallowing the flesh down before tossing the head aside. “We’ll see, morsel,” she hissed back.


Chapter Fifty-Two: Satsuki Kiryuin

The Child was a daunting adversary, dwarfing Satsuki with its lumbering size. The nightmarish amalgamation of flesh was horrifying, but the creature’s intelligence and dark purpose were worse. Satsuki had no intention of sacrificing herself, but she knew the beast needed to die. She intended to make sure it was reduced to several gory chunks. Finding her way out of the collapsed Bunker wouldn’t be easy, but she’d have a good deal more motivation for the task knowing that the Child was gone. The two circled one another, trading quick dashes and strikes within the cramped confines of the sealed off room.

Satsuki was confident she had enough strength to match the Child, but her real edge in the fight came from her smaller size. The creature was quick, quicker than it had any right to be, but it wasn’t fast enough to keep up with her. She ducked and dodged the Child’s swipes, striking back with her sword to open up several deep gouges through the creature’s flesh. One swipe managed to cleave one of the Child’s breasts open, spilling out yellow chunks of fat as she recoiled and let out a high-pitched shriek. With the hint of a smirk crossing her face, Satsuki pressed her assault.

The Child twisted to the aside, avoiding Satsuki’s blade as it angled for her belly. The young woman followed through with her strike, adjusting her aim and bringing the weapon upwards. The sharpened steel connected with one of the Child’s spider-like limbs, cracking through the tough exoskeleton and severing the appendage completely. The Child squealed, jerking away as green blood spurted from the stump left behind. She recoiled, backing into a corner of the room. Satsuki mistakenly took the retreat as a sign that she was making some real progress in the fight. She advanced, determined to hack the monster apart one piece at a time if necessary.

The Child waited for Satsuki to draw close before springing into a sudden counter-attack. Knocking her sword to the side with the back of one hand – ignoring the cut she earned in the process – the creature dropped low and spun. Her tail whipped around, smacking against the side of Satsuki’s calf. The young woman let out a startled yell, her body flipping sideways before smacking to the floor. She managed to keep hold of her sword – something she was very thankful for – but laid out as she was, she knew she needed to get back on her feet fast if she wanted to stay breathing. She rolled onto her back and prepared to flip to her feet.

Satsuki shifted her weight onto her shoulders, lifting her legs up, ready to hope back up. The Child surged over her, grabbing hold of her ankles and slamming her legs back to the floor. Her terrible face loomed over Satsuki’s, hissing and flinging specks of saliva across the young woman as she glared down at her. Satsuki’s jaw firmed, staring back defiantly. The abomination over her may have been frightening, but she had no desire to let the creature see whatever fear she had dwelling within her. She’d faced more than her fair share of terrible atrocities. The Legions of the Undead ranked highly amongst them, but she was determined to see the horrors defeated.

Tightening her grip on her sword, Satsuki tried to bring the weapon up, angling the blade towards the Child’s throat. The Child snagged hold of her arm and shoved it back down. Snarling, Satsuki flexed her muscles, struggling to pry free from the rough grip. The Child released a hiss of amusement, but it was clear that she was struggling to hold the young woman down. The creature released Satsuki’s arm so quickly that her sword came up awkwardly, slashing only air. The freedom was brief as the Child slammed her clenched fist into the crook of Satsuki’s elbow. The dark-haired woman cried out as successive blows shattered the bones of her arm, leaving the limb lying uselessly out to her side.

Satsuki’s sword slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. The Child turned her attention to the weapon, scooping it up and admiring the design for a few moments. She turned the sword on Satsuki, tracing the tip of the blade against her throat before easing it up to her chin. Satsuki glared up at the creature, head tilted back, showing no signs of fear as the very real possibility of being murdered with her own weapon was presented to her. The Child chuckled and tossed the sword aside, flinging it well out of reach. “No, no, morsel,” the Child purred, shaking her head. “My victims do not have the benefit of dying easily. You will know true suffering before you expire.”

Satsuki had felt plenty of suffering in her young lifetime. She suspected she knew the sort the Child had in mind. Even the thought of being violated by the abomination did not scare her. She’d endured that sort of abuse before. It was never pleasant, but she’d survived it. I can survive this, too, she told herself firmly. Somehow. The Child’s tail slithered its way up between Satsuki’s legs, sliding under her skirt and rubbing against the crotch of her thong. Her remaining spider-like limb descended to assist with tugging the undergarment halfway down her thighs, exposing her hairless sex.

The Child gripped Satsuki’s legs hard enough to leave bruises, forcing them apart. The young woman grimaced, looking down the length of her body to the creature’s crotch. She’d seen the member dangling there the moment the Child had entered the control room – had made a mental note to slice the thing off before delivering the killing blow – but now she was forced to give it a thorough examination. The size of it was daunting and it only grew larger as it stiffened. It was going to hurt. A lot. But the creature’s perverse desires would hopefully distract it, maybe even long enough for Satsuki to think of a way to kill the horrid bitch.

Moving forward, the Child used her hips to keep Satsuki’s legs spread open for her. The girl continued to squirm but a hard smack to her mangled arm helped to settle her down a little. Satsuki let out a yelp of pain as the shattered bones shifted before going back to silently glaring up at her adversary. The Child let out a wet chuckle, reaching down to guide her throbbing prick to the morsel’s vulnerable crotch. Pressing the tip against her cunt folds, she searched Satsuki’s defiant face for even a hint of fear or disgust. Finding none, the Child tensed and drove forward. Her thick head pressed roughly against the dry lips of Satsuki’s pussy, straining to find entrance to the tight orifice. As the pain rose within Satsuki’s loins, she maintained her lack of fear, but could not hide the twitches of pain working their way through her face. The Child drew back for a moment before ramming forward, slamming her way into the young woman’s cunt and drawing an agonized yell from her lips.

Satsuki kicked her legs, bending her knees and digging her heels into the Child’s sides. She grunted as the thick slab of meat punched further into her, knocking the air from her lungs. With one arm crippled and her sword far out of reach, her options were limited. She was well within the Child’s clutches, helpless to the creature’s terrible whims. Her efforts to get free yielded no results. She was strong, maybe as strong as the Child, but her positioning had her at a disadvantage. The only hope she could see was in the Child’s hubris. The ugly smile stretched across the creature’s face told Satsuki just how much the thing thought it had won. Perhaps the Child would let her guard down enough to give Satsuki a chance to deal a fatal blow, somehow, but first Satsuki would have to withstand the brutal assault. As her pelvic bone creaked from the forceful impacts of the Child’s massive member, Satsuki began to have her doubts that she could.

The Child was impressed with Satsuki resilience, her defiance in the face of certain death. She could not see into the young woman’s living mind, but it was clear that she was still searching for some means of winning the fight. The Child plunged deeper into the gripping depths of Satsuki’s stretched pussy, curling her tail underneath her and wiggling the tip against the girl’s asshole. After a minimal bit of teasing, the tail shot forward, forcing several thickening inches of length up Satsuki’s rear. The young woman gave a pained grunt, face flinching from the sudden anal intrusion. “Yes,” the Child hissed, feeling Satsuki’s ass clenching around her tail. “Defy me, morsel. It will make breaking you all the sweeter.”

The Child slammed cock and tail into Satsuki, stretching her beyond her limits. The tissue separating the two holes tore suddenly, spraying blood across the base of the creature’s shaft and leaving a few thick droplets dotting the lips of her soaked pussy. Satsuki’s eyes shot wide, barely holding back the scream rising up her throat as the sharp pain hit her. The Child leered down at her, strengthening her thrusts. Satsuki’s legs kicked out, betraying the defiance in her eyes with their wildly panicked movements. The flailing limbs lost their ability to fight back as the Child finally managed to snap Satsuki’s pelvic bone in half. Her legs flopped back to the floor with a meaty thud.

The bulge pressing against Satsuki’s abdomen slid deeper through her as the Child enjoyed the extra room provided from her joined cunt and ass. Blood poured out of her, pooling around her buttocks and smearing across the backs of her thighs. There was no part of the Child’s cock that could be regarded as small, but the throbbing length thickened as it went along. A painfully large penetration became an impossible one as the creature yanked Satsuki further down its length. The young woman managed a half-choked shriek as her clitoris was sheared in half. She stared between herself and the Child, watching with rising horror as her belly split open down the middle. A gruesome red seam opening up as the abomination violently raped her, allowing a tangled wad of dislodged innards to come spilling out of her.

The Child’s tail whipped free of the gory pit of Satsuki’s split open form, one kidney skewered on the tip. The creature guided her tail up to her mouth, making sure the young woman was able to watch as she devoured the organ. Her hips shifted back and forth with forceful speed, continuing to rip Satsuki in half down the middle until she finally reached the bottom of her ribs. The fact that she was still alive was a testament to how strong Satsuki was. Pair that with the remaining glimmer of stubborn resolve in her tear-filled eyes and the Child was almost impressed.

The Child’s member slid into Satsuki’s ribcage, easing between her lungs and snuggling under her frantically beating heart. The sensations of the organs pressing in around her girth gave the creature a unique form of stimulation. Satsuki glared up at the Child, sweaty face growing pale as her blood poured out of her. She gag before hacking up a thick wad of crimson that left her trembling lips stained. The Child’s sharp teeth clattered against each other with rising excitement as she managed to find the base of Satsuki’s throat. She watched the thick bulge travelling upwards, choking the young woman from within. With a hard shove, the Child pushed the head of her gore-soaked prick free from Satsuki’s bloody lips.

Fucking through Satsuki’s torso with long strokes, the Child was careful not to pulverize any of the girl’s most precious organs. She was only now getting to see some true suffering displayed cleanly across the young woman’s blood-spattered face. She wasn’t fully broken, not yet. The Child was beginning to think that particular goal might be impossible but seeing the pain and flickers of humiliation trickling through her face was certainly enough to stir her arousal to fresh heights. The pressure in her loins built as her climax drew nearer. Intermittent wet gurgles poured from Satsuki’s mouth as her throat was repeatedly clogged with the abomination’s thick member, forcing up mouthfuls of bloody drool from her stretched lips.

The Child held back her release. She leaned in, lowering her face a few inches above Satsuki’s. She wanted to see the life in the girl’s eyes blink out, certain that in that final moment, she would see what remained of her resolve shatter. “You think your actions have hurt us,” she hissed, letting out a condescending laugh. “You’ve only given us what we desired. The Bunker is destroyed. The life it protected is spilling out into the city. Our city. My glorious terrors will dig me free of this rubble with time enough for me to enjoy the last of your pathetic survivors. But don’t worry. I’ll ensure you’re there to see it.” She traced her claws against Satsuki’s cheek. “Your dead eyes will witness the slaughter. And only after the last of them has died will I feast upon that cute face.”

Satsuki finally spotted her moment. It had come far too late to save her life, but – with a little luck – she could at least destroy the nightmare responsible for her death. The Child’s arrogance had drawn her close. Close enough that Satsuki could use her living armor against the fiend. Weakness and pain radiated through her, making it almost impossible to move, but she knew she didn’t have to move far. Her breaths – the ones she could take when the creature’s cock wasn’t filling her throat – were shallow, almost nonexistent. She had only moments left. Satsuki twisted a little to the side and lashed out with Junketsu. The shoulder piece of the armor shifted at her silent command, forming into a sharp spike that shot towards the Child’s grinning face.

The spike hit the Child just as she rammed her cock through Satsuki’s throat. It punctured her cheek as her member twitched within the fleshy confines of the girl’s plugged esophagus. Blinding pain joined pure bliss as the Child came alongside having her head impaled on the spike. Thick jizz erupted from Satsuki’s gaping mouth, firing across her face. The smug look became one of shock as the Child shuddered. The unexpected, nearly fatal attack tripped something locked deep within the creature’s genetics. Her pierced brain reacted to the spike, unleashing a sudden, powerful burst of psionic force. The spike was shoved back through the Child’s face, leaving behind a gaping wound, before the living armor was torn from Satsuki’s body and ripped to shreds.

The Child blinked slowly, blood flowing down her cheek. Her cock continued to spurt out its seed through Satsuki’s mouth. The unexpected attack had kept her from watching the life dim in the girl’s eyes, but as she scanned the control room she realized she had far greater concerns. A dull buzz filled her head, along with a bizarre hollowness. It took her several long moments to realize that she could no longer feel the cold embrace of the many monstrosities lurking throughout the Necropolis. She tried to reach out, reconnect the psychic link with them, but the effort only caused a fresh spike of pain to shoot through her damaged brain.

Feeling truly alone for the first time since her birth, the Child withdrew from Satsuki’s corpse. The confident arrogance that permeated her very being still remained, but it had taken a blow. Trapped within the rubble, she could only hope that her minions would be capable of handling the remaining survivors on their own while she took the time to heal. Sliding her legs apart, she reached between them, pealing apart the wet lips of her cunt. Her abdominal muscles flexed, pushing a Cockworm down her birthing canal and into her waiting hands. She guided the squirming creature to her cheek, shuddering with equal parts revulsion and pleasure as it wiggled its way into the gory hole there. When it finished burrowing its way into her head, the Child produced a second Cockworm and let it squeeze its way into the stump of her missing spider-like limb. The phallic-shaped maggots would be more than capable of repairing the damage done to her, in time. Whether they would be able to do the job well enough to allow her to regain her psychic link remained to be seen.

Dropping down into a squat, the Child could already feel boredom soaking into her. She snatched hold of one of Satsuki’s legs, tearing the limb free. Bringing it up to her mouth, she buried her sharp teeth into the soft flesh of the girl’s thigh. With a hard jerk of her head that only made the pain there worse, she tore free a meaty chunk. The taste of her fresh kill did a little too soothe her frustration, but only a little. Looking over the gruesome remains, the Child continued to eat while reaching down to rub at her cock. When she’d regained her stiffness, she reached over to grab a fistful of Satsuki’s guts, sliding them around her member to use as a masturbatory aid. With nothing more to do, the Child attempted to make the most of her time coaxing whatever more pleasure she could from the young woman’s devastated carcass.


Chapter Fifty-Three: Lilith

With shear numbers and the panicked desire to go on living on their side, the majority of the survivors managed to fight their way through the group of undead gathered at the front hatch. With the Bunker collapsed behind them, they had no choice but to keep pressing forward. They managed to secure a beachhead, but even that was a far cry from making it free of the onslaught bearing down on them. There’d not been time to put together any kind of cohesive plan of action beyond ‘Try to Live’. It was an easy enough strategy to comprehend, but much more difficult to achieve.

Azula pushed her way to the front of the group. She’d been left in charge of the survivors, but more than that, her fire bending abilities made her one of the heaviest hitters they had left. She could still feel the fatigue from her fight with Daenerys, but she pushed through it. Her missing finger ached each time she conjured up a fresh eruption of flames, beating and burning back the Legions as they tried to close in and crush the survivors. Gunfire thudded in her ears as the gun-totting survivors lent their support, taking out the waves of zombies shuffling towards them.

Lilith triggered her ability to Phasewalk within the clustered group of survivors. Concealed within the group, the Legions were unable to see her vanish and remained unaware as her invisible form strode out amongst them. Her powers afforded her the freedom to survey the field of battle without fear of being suddenly killed. She moved fast, knowing she would only have a limited amount of time before her cloak failed her, and found that while the battle was far from finished, they had managed to thin the horde out fairly significantly. Spotting the weakest point of their frontline, Lilith hurried for it. The plan rolling around in her head was insane. She just hoped it was insane enough to succeed.

Darting into the loose line of creatures, Lilith gathered up her remaining energy. Her Phasewalk ended as she became the epicenter of a violent explosion of glowing blue energy. The force of the blast tore the creatures closest to her to pieces while flinging others into the air. A few collided with one another hard enough to shatter bones. One or two managed to get tossed far enough to slam into the sides of buildings, dropping to the ground as shattered lumps of dead flesh. And in the wake of it all, Lilith stared proudly at the hole in the frontlines she’d managed to create for herself and the others.

The timing of Lilith’s attack was perfect. Azula and the others had just finished dealing with the foremost creatures and were making a push forward. Seeing the opening, Azula called for the rest of the survivors to head for it. She kept her flames burning hot, scorching away the monsters closest to them, working to widen the path through the frontline. Taliyah swooped in fast, riding a risen portion of cement. The brunette’s hands moved, controlling the earth as smoothly as Azula controlled her fire. The lengths of fabric extending from her sleeves whipped through the air as she rose a pillar of stone into the face of a Big Man, shattering his head. She twisted, pulling up a chunk of road and flinging it into a small crowd of zombies attempting to close in on Azula. Azula gave the geomancer a nod of thanks before continuing her assault.

With the path mostly cleared, the survivors made a dash for the exit from the certain slaughter the horde promised. Thanks to the combined efforts of Lilith, Azula, and Taliyah, the bulk of the survivors managed to make it through the frontline. But the effort to escape was not without casualties.

A Hell Flyer dropped onto Kunimitsu’s shoulders, hooking his scrawny legs around her neck. The masked redhead reached up, frantically trying to play the creature away only to have her fingers bitten. With a cackle, the Hell Flyer hooked his hands under Kunimitsu’s chin. He pulled hard, stretching her neck. The woman stumbled, twisting and turning, calling for help. The Hell Flyer let out a triumphant squeal as Kunimitsu’s flesh and bone gave way. He pried her head away from her body, enjoying the flow of hot blood against his aching member. His wings flapped as her flailing body collapsed out from under him. Shoving his way up Kunimitsu’s neck stump, he let her severed head adorn his rigid cock as he flew higher. He slid the redhead’s mask off of her slackened face and onto his own, darting out of the fray before any of the other survivors could pick him off.

Beruka made the mistake of glancing down at one of the corpses littering the street and found it was one she recognized. Seeing Camilla split in half down the middle put a falter in her steps. The Deathscythe responsible for the gruesome act hadn’t gone far and eagerly charged towards the startled young woman. Beruka spotted the creature advancing and turned to face him, barely managing a gasp before the tip of his bone-bladed arm punched through the bridge of her nose and ripped through her head. A muscular spasm shot through Beruka, bringing the axe she clenched in one hand up. The blade of the axe crunched through the side of the Deathscythe’s face, delivering a fatal post-mortem blow to the creature. The two collapsed against one another, sliding towards the street as their mutual death spasms created a macabre dance.

Menat nearly made it through the gap in the Legions. The survivors just ahead of her managed to dodge the charging Hell Hound. If not for an unfortunately timed bead of sweat getting in her eye, she may have been able to as well. The beast’s massive head slammed into her gut, knocking the air from her lungs and flinging her to the street. Her perky ass dragged painfully against the asphalt for a few feet before finally coming to a stop. She managed to roll over before the Hell Hound pounced, letting out a terrified shriek as its powerful jaws dug into the small of her back. The Hell Hound chewed bloody chunks out of the young woman as she flailed beneath it. Menat’s teeth ground into one another as the beast’s teeth clamped shut around her bloody spine. With a hard twist of its head, the Hell Hound snapped through her vertebrae, leaving her paralyzed. Menat suffered a lingering death as the terrible hound feasted upon her flesh.

Lilith panted heavily, wiping the sweat from her brow. The Phasewalk had taken more out of her than it usually did but seeing the majority of the survivors getting through the frontline had the fatigue she felt worth it. She let the others move past her, taking a few moments to regain her strength. When the bald woman with the extensive tattoos reached out to give her a high-five on her way past, Lilith couldn’t help the tired laugh. Amidst all the death and the still likely possibility that the small victory wouldn’t amount to much, even the small moment of celebration was a much needed break from reality. Lilith turned, not wanting to fall too far behind the others.

Lilith cried out as the Impaler’s skewering arm hit her back. The tip punched through her, exploding from between her breasts. She stared down at it, eyes wide with shock, before turning her head to look up at the crab-like nightmare towering over her. Her chest heaved, terrified sobs already working their way out of her as the creature hoisted her into the air. Her hand fumbled for the pistol at her side, managing to draw it free of its holster before promptly dropping it. Blood poured down her back and through her cleavage. “N-not fair,” she croaked out at the Impaler, feeling her head growing foggy.

The opening Lilith had created had only bought the survivors so long. Already, the Legions were regrouping, positioning themselves to close in around the fleeing party. Azula searched for a defensible area, somewhere they could pause to hold off the monstrosities while they came up with a new plan to escape. But, as far as she could see, the open road offered no form of cover. She kept on fighting alongside the others, trying to ignore the growing voice in the back of her head that said they were all doomed.

As she’d lay dying with the Child’s cock stuffed through her, Satsuki knew nothing of how the other survivors were fairing. Her last ditch attack came as the Legions were closing in, transforming the slaughtering field into a chaotic free-for-all. With the sudden removal of the higher power controlling and organizing them, the myriad of abominations lost all sense of what they were doing. The feedback of pain that came from the abrupt end of psychic control sent them into a frenzy, no longer able to tell survivor from fellow monster. The resulting insanity gave the survivors a much needed chance. Azula called for them to run, and they did.

Before the Impaler could close its mandibles around Lilith’s head, the madness erupted. The territorial nature of the creature led it to forgetting all about the tasty meal skewered on its claw. Lilith was flung free, hitting the ground hard and rolling several times before landing on her back. She clung to the barest slivers of life, unable to do anything as the blood continued to pump from the gaping wound through her torso. The ground thudded around her as the two Impalers clashed. Their size and ferocity made short work of any creature unfortunate enough to stumble into the range of their swiping claws.

The earth rumbled beneath Lilith as she lay helplessly amidst the battle. More than once she wound up crushed under one of the Impalers. Tears flowed down her cheeks, not caring which of the monsters came out ahead, just wanting an end to the pain. When an end to the fight finally came, she wasn’t even sure if the victor was the same one that had impaled her. The dying shrieks of the losing Impaler filled her ears as the victor ripped its claws into the thing’s soft underbelly, stabbing into it again and again until the creature finally expired.

The remaining Impaler stumbled back from its defeated foe. With the battle for dominance concluded, the creature turned its attention back to Lilith’s body. She shook her head weakly as it advanced, managing only the weakest of grunts as it plunged its claw through her belly. As she was lifted into the air again, she vomited up a torrent of blood, body shuddering as she neared death. The Impaler was more than happy to assist her on that journey, stuffing the woman’s head into its maw and chomping down. Her head burst between the mandibles, body giving off one last shudder before slumping limp on the creature’s claw. Stretching its mouth open wider, it stuffed Lilith’s chest inside, continuing its meal as the Legions went wild around it.


And with this, we're up to date.

Chapter Fifty-Four: Katniss Everdeen

The zombified visage of Psylocke looked out on her out-of-control forces and snarled. The psychic disconnection from the Child had hurt her probably more than the others, due to her more direct link and her mutant powers, but she’d not gone insane like the rest of the creatures. The lack of cohesion couldn’t have come at a worse time for the Legions. Psylocke’s attempt to corral the escaping survivors and crush them into a gory paste went wildly wrong. A few of the living wound up getting caught in the chaotic fray, but it was far from the slaughter Psylocke had desired.

Psylocke’s psychic abilities and the Cockworm’s presence within her allowed her to focus some of the rampaging undead. But she wasn’t nearly strong enough to control all of them at once. She strained to lock in on them individually, directing their mayhem where she couldn’t outright control it. But the efforts weren’t enough to stop the fleeing survivors from getting away. Taliyah had pulled up chunks of the asphalt to create a shielding wall for the others as they rushed out into the Necropolis while a few others helped to keep her safe as the bulk of the survivors hurried past.

Katniss Everdeen stood several feet from Taliyah, bow shifting from side to side as she took down approaching threats with efficient speed. The time she’d spent in the Bunker crafting arrows gave her a fair bit of them to expel, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to shoulder her bow and switch to the handgun strapped to her side. She ignored the creatures that had turned on each other, letting them kill one another off, but there were still some that seemed intent on hunting down the survivors. Those she took out, thinning out their numbers as swiftly as she could to give the others a better chance at escape.

With her focus on killing, Katniss moved without fully checking her surroundings. She relied on her peripheral vision to keep her flank cleared of threats, turning to deal with them as needed. She didn’t notice the partially devoured corpse of Jubilee until her foot came down on the dead woman’s chest, crunching through her heavily chewed ribcage. Broken shards of bone dug into Katniss’s calf, becoming an organic foot-trap for her. Her balance shifted, leg held in place by the corpse. The aim of her shot was thrown off enough to make what would have been a fatal strike to Psylocke’s face instead swish by her hip. The psychic zombie took notice of the attack and turned to face the survivor attempting to kill her. An amused smirk crossed her face as she saw Katniss’s predicament, as well as felt the surprise within Jubilee’s corpse already shifting to respond to the unexpected intrusion of the archer’s foot.

Since being ripped apart by D.Va’s mech, the Blob had been making its way to the various corpses littering the street. It was still weak, a small fraction of its previous size, but it had contented itself with slithering into the bodies of the dead and gradually absorbing the squishy innards left inside. It had been satisfying itself on Jubilee’s lungs when Katniss’s foot had interrupted its meal. Irritation blended with excitement within the gelatinous organism as it felt the heat of Katniss’s life pulsing against it. Only moments after the intrusive foot arrived, it made an attempt to pry free of Jubilee’s ribcage. The Blob had no intention of letting the fresh meal escape, even if it lacked the ability to quickly consume the young woman.

Katniss grunted as she tried to pull her foot free only to find she was more effectively snared than she’d realized. Taking even a moment to free herself was a risk, both for herself and the other survivors, but she had to do it. She pulled harder on her leg, only to have something within Jubilee’s carcass tighten its hold on her ankle and pull back. Her eyes shot wide as she spotted the pale pink gel of the Blob creeping further up her leg. It wasn’t having much luck digesting its way through her boot, but it had enough strength to maintain its grip on her. Katniss pulled harder, dragging Jubilee’s body a couple feet but doing little to dislodge her foot. She looked around, searching for anyone else who might be able to help.

The Blob stretched its way further up Katniss’s leg, sliding around her thigh. Her struggles intensified but did nothing to dislodge the wad of sentient sludge. She let out a yell as her efforts led to losing her balance, dropping to the ground and landing hard on her ass. Her bow was jostled from her hands, clattering beside her, but she no longer had time to give the weapon her attention. Leaning forward, she desperately plunged her fingers into the Blob’s gooey mass, trying to pull it free. Her fingers sloshed through the sticky matter, but the Blob didn’t latch down on them the way it did her leg.

With the Blob clinging to her leg, Katniss had no chance of scrambling away from it. She gasped, panic rising, as it slid its way over her thigh. It wasn’t a very substantial size, but her inability to gain a hold on it, pry it away from her, had panic clawing away at her from within. Gripping her bow, she slammed it against the gooey creature, seeing no sign that blunt force caused it any form of discomfort. The wet slaps of the weapon’s impact sounded in her ears again and again until the Blob grew annoyed with her. Katniss cried out as her bow was pulled from her hands and tossed aside. The Blob surged over her crotch, pressing hard against the fabric of her pants. The young woman shook her head frantically, hands sinking into the sludge, ignoring the rising burn radiating across her bare skin as the creature’s diminished but still potent digestive enzymes went to work on her.

Katniss endured the pain as long as she could, hoping she might find some means of dislodging the Blob. When she finally pulled her hands free, her skin glowed red, swelling with irritation and shaking badly. She watched with horror as one fingernail sloshed away, realizing that even if she survived the encounter, she wouldn’t be wielding her bow again anytime soon. Her concern of being a burden on the other survivors vanished as the pressure against her crotch grew stronger. With a sharp shredding of fabric, the Blob split open a seam in her pants and flowed through it. It soaked into and through her panties, undeterred by the rank odor she’d worked up during the battle.

The Blob slid across Katniss’s sex like the world’s cruelest lubricant. Her sensitive skin went from tingling to burning in moments. Her hands shot back down, ignoring the pain radiating through them as she smacked and pawed at her crotch. She panted, pain-stiffened nipples protruding against the front of her top, as the gooey nightmare molded against her pussy and oozed into the crack of her ass. It pressed into her lower orifices, not so much fucking her as filling her. With the fluidity of its form, it had no trouble penetrating her, but its diminished volume forced it to make a choice. Front door or back. The Blob flowed fully into Katniss’s cunt, sloshing about for a few moments before sliding free and plunging through her asshole.

The abrupt anal violation alone had Katniss on the verge of puking. As the Blob slid its way up into her bowels and crept through the coils of her intestines, the burning pain it left in its wake forced her to roll onto her side and curl inwards. She clutched her burning hands against her belly, grunting through clenched teeth. Her eyes bulged, her insides scorching as the Blob’s enzymes began to slowly break down her tissue. It was an agony Elizabeth Swann and D.Va had become intimately familiar with in their final moments, but they’d at least had the benefit of being digested swiftly. With the Blob filling her guts and no means of getting it out of her, Katniss was doomed to a far lengthier demise as her internal organs were gradually broken down and absorbed within her.

Although the digestion process was slow, the elevation of pain was not. It took only a couple minutes to fully transform Katniss from a confident assassin of the undead into a sobbing, shrieking madwoman. She kicked and twisted on the ground, tugging up the bottom of her shirt to claw at her belly. The combination of adrenaline and endorphins flooding through her veins only added a spicy flavor to her body that the Blob quite enjoyed. It had been so long since it had consumed a living victim slowly that it had forgotten just how exquisite the taste could be. The Blob’s mental faculties were limited, but what little it had decided that more leisurely consumption of future victims should be a thing it strived to do.

It was hard for Katniss to see through the tears filling her eyes, but she managed to spot a blurry figure moving past her. Not knowing if it was a fellow survivor or another nightmare creature eager to add to her suffering, she jerked and threw her arms out towards it. She clutched at the leg her hands found not unlike the Blob had clutched at her own leg such a short time ago. “Please,” she shrieked. “Please, help! Get it… get it out of me! Get it the fuck out of me!” Bloody urine flowed from her crotch, forced from her as the pain twisting and sliding through her guts worsened. She’d have shit herself, too, if the Blob hadn’t already devoured whatever feces had been lingering within her.

By the time Azula had seen Katniss’s predicament, the Blob had already been working its way up the young woman’s ass. She’d muttered a curse as she’d hurried towards the fallen archer, unable to think of any means of saving her. She’d not seen how formidable the Blob had been before D.Va’s sacrifice had taken it down several sizes, but she had no intention of letting it regrow. She tugged her leg away from Katniss’s pawing hands, conjuring forth a glowing blue ball of flame in her hand. It wouldn’t be a quick end for the woman, but – with luck – it would ensure that the Blob would die with her. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, lamenting the loss of yet another capable fighter more than the actual life she was about to take before promptly flinging the fistful of flames into Katniss.

In an instant, Katniss found her world consumed with burning agony externally as well as internally. The blue flames spread across her chest, burning through her shirt in moments. Her flailing intensified, horrified shrieks pouring out of her as her breasts blistered and burned. The fleshy mounds swelled as the fire cooked the fat within them. She beat at herself, further damaging her hands and finding it just as impossible to extinguish the flames as she had trying to pull the Blob away from her. Blackening flesh sloshed from her forearms as steaming dribbles of superheated fat squirted from her enflamed nipples. She kicked about at the ground, flopping onto her back as the flames spread across her, transforming her into a shrieking beacon amidst the madness transpiring outside the Bunker.

The heat of the flames consuming Katniss radiated inwards. The Blob was having a pleasant time dining on the young woman’s guts. By the time it noticed the rising temperature of its surroundings, the majority of the archer’s flesh was charred. The creature instinctively tried to retreat from the danger, flowing back through her partially digested intestinal tract. It pushed only a little way from her puckered anus, just far enough to get a real feel of the powerful fire crackling across Katniss’s body, before pulling back inside her. The time for feeding had come to an abrupt end. The Blob surged through Katniss, twisting and sliding through her organs as it sought some means of escape.

Katniss wheezed weakly. The last of her hair sizzled away, leaving her scalp a wasteland of raw, burnt skin. Her youthful good looks were gone, her face blemished with popping blisters and melting flesh. She managed a wet gurgle as her belly distended. Reduced to as panicked a state as the young woman, the Blob took the fastest route out of her. Her scorched tissue was easy enough to tear through. Her gut ripped apart, exposing her steaming, half-dissolved innards to the still roaring fire covering her body. The flames intensified as they met the Blob directly, burning away at its gelatinous form even more effectively than it had torched Katniss’s.

The Blob boiled within the pit of Katniss’s belly, ravaged by Azula’s flames. In a matter of minutes, it sizzled away into nothingness as the young archer’s body was reduced to a blackened skeleton around it. The fire continued to burn, dark smoke wafting into the air. It had taken the sacrifice of two survivors, but the Blob was finally gone. There was no shortage of terrible creations lurking within the Necropolis but having one less – especially one of such significant devastation – counted as a success, no matter the cost of life required. At least, that’s what Azula told herself as she hurried along to rejoin the others.

As Azula moved past Taliyah, she gave the nod to secure their rear defense. The geomancer moved back, gathering her strength to rip up a huge portion of the road. The effort left her thoroughly drained, but the result was an impressive makeshift wall constructed between the remaining survivors and the horde of undead still rampaging in front of the collapsed Bunker. Their escape had been a success, but their struggle to go on breathing had only just begun.


I want a DC girl win so Go Harley!


Sorry! Wrong thread



Hoo boy is there a lot to chatch up with. Ultra Dump Bump!

Chapter Fifty-Five: Hard Rock, Harder Choices

There were two ways to travel in the Necropolis: Fast or safe. Fast had a tendency to get people killed. But with the attack on the Bunker, Alice was worried that traveling safe would get even more people killed. She tried to settle her team into a kind of middle ground, retracing their steps as best they could in as direct a path as possible to the Bunker. Her hope was that the areas would still be relatively clear of threats, which would allow them to make better time. The radio was on the fritz again. No word from the Bunker. No word from Kaya.

I just hope we’re not too late, Alice thought as she led the crew in the direction of one of their previous camps.

Fuuka placed a hand on Alice’s shoulder, signaling her to stop. The team kept their voices down. They knew better than to make too much noise. “I’m detecting a lot of zombies this way,” Fuuka whispered. “Between us and the camp.”

Alice sighed, thinking over the layout of the city around them, trying to come up with an alternate route that wouldn’t add too much time to their journey. The options weren’t great. “Do you think we could fight our way through them?” she asked.

Fuuka shook her head. “Not safely. There’s a lot of them. And they feel… agitated.”

Alice looked to Homura. “Your shield?” she asked.

Homura looked down at the small device on her arm. “It has limited uses,” she reminded.

“I know, but I think this might count as one of those emergency situations where we need it.”

Homura nodded and placed a hand over her shield, fingers moving in small, precise twists and turns. “If you don’t want to be frozen like everything else, you need to be touching me the whole time,” she explained. The group crowded in around Homura, reaching out to lay hands on her. It would make traveling slow and awkward, but with time stopped, that didn’t matter as much.

There was a spark and a hum. Something deep in the pit of Alice’s stomach shifted, as if she’d been riding an elevator that had come to a sudden stop. It felt disorienting and wrong, but she was able to ignore it. Looking around, things looked more or less the same at first. Then the color drained from the world around her, leaving everything not touching Homura in a crisp black and white. She caught sight of a scrap of worn newspaper that had been caught in a breeze, floating effortlessly about three inches above the ground. The disoriented feeling strengthened so Alice quickly looked away. “Let’s move,” she called to the others. Freezing time may have been an amazing strength in their favor, but the sooner reality returned to normal – well, some kind of normal, anyway – the better.

With all hands on Homura, the group started to move again. It was awkward. There was a fair bit of stumbling as they tried to find a rhythm to moving as a single entity. Homura fought back the cringe she felt creeping into her face as so many people touched her at once. Just because it was necessary didn’t make her like physical contact anymore than she usually did. Their progress slowed further as they arrived at the pack of rowdy – but frozen – zombies. It was a densely packed crowd. Sneaking their way through the openings between the undead took careful steps.

Something about the whole thing bugged Alice. Actually, there were a lot of things about the situation that bugged her, but something stood out above the rest. It took her a little while to pin it down. The stench of decay. Or rather, the lack of one. Surrounded by so many walking corpses, the smell should have been overpowering. Instead, it didn’t smell like much of anything as they made their way through the horde.

Homura kept the time stop in place until they’d gotten well beyond the group of zombies, waiting until they made it into the building they’d previously camped in before releasing it. Another wave of disorientation, an inverse of the effect they’d felt as they’d entered their timeless state, washed over the group. Color flooded back into the world and they released Homura, moving back from the young woman so they could all catch their breath and reacclimate to reality.

Fuuka’s brow furrowed as she got her bearings and sensed something other than her group in the building. “Alice…” she started.

Before she could finish, a flash of yellow-white launched itself from the rafters above. It dropped in front of the party, leveling a glare at the four women – plus one head. The golden-furred fox woman didn’t look friendly. She sounded even less friendly as she let out a low growl. Her head was distinctly fox-like, as was her big bushy tail and oversized claws, but her torso certainly possessed the traits of a woman. Granted, with only the purple arm coverings to conceal her, she certainly showed an animalistic lack of modesty.

The fox-woman rested on her hind legs for only a moment before launching into the air. She thrust one massive paw towards the group, letting loose with a cry of “Diamond Storm!” A handful of green leaves shot forth, cutting through the air far better than a leaf had any right to.

Izumi ignored the absurdity of the situation – of the attack – and reacted to it. Transmuting the floor, she forced it upwards, creating a barrier between the group and their attacker. There was the sound of cement crunching as the leaves connected with the freshly crafted wall. Izumi’s eyes widened with shock as she saw the tips of a couple of the leaves protruding from the back of the wall, revealing just how sturdy and just how sharp they were. She released her alchemical grip on the wall, allowing it to fuse more or less back into the floor.

The fox-woman waited for them on the other side, staring them down icily.

Alice could see that whatever the thing was, it wasn’t one of the Necropolis’s horrors. Her appearance wasn’t nearly nightmarish enough. Which meant she was yet another abducted victim. “Hey,” she attempted, lifting a placating hand. “It’s alright. We’re not – “

With a snarl, the fox-woman charged Alice, unrestrained hostility in her eyes. She moved fast, too fast for Alice to react. The fox-woman’s massive claw was cocked back, ready to slash the scout leader’s face into bloody ribbons when reality snapped rigid.

Homura lowered her hand from her shield and rushed in, not letting the fact that time was stopped around her slow her movements. Leaping into the air, she swung her shield, cracking it across the back of the fox-woman’s head. The moment of connection was enough to send the attacker shooting forward, slamming into the floor hard enough to leave her in a daze. Time was speeding back up for everyone else by the time Homura’s feet touched the ground.

Before the fox-woman shook off the stunning blow, Izumi reached down to touch her fingers to the floor once more. The cement shifted and molded, snaring their attacker’s arms and legs, forcing her up onto her knees and holding her firmly. Homura reached into her shield, drawing free a revolver that was doing its best impression of a cannon. She gave the cylinder a spin before lowering the barrel to the back of the fox-woman’s head, quite ready to squeeze the trigger and blow her brains into a gooey paste.

“Wait,” Alice gasped, shaking off the shiver running through her from nearly being mauled. With the fox-woman restrained, she wanted to try the non-violent approach again. “Look,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the panting figure. “I was trying to tell you, we don’t want to hurt you. And we’re not with those monsters you’ve probably already spotted in this shithole of a city. Do you…” She sighed, taking in the creature’s surreal appearance. “Can you even understand what I’m saying?”

The fox-woman lifted her head, locked eyes with Alice. Some of the aggression faded away. “I understand,” she replied, her voice a low growl but surprisingly eloquent. She glanced around to the others. “You appeared from nothing. And you smell like the dead.”

Alice let out a tired laugh. “Yea, well, just because we’re not monsters doesn’t mean we don’t have our own set of tricks. We’ve been here long enough that I don’t think we’ll ever get rid of the smell. You must be new, right?” She extended her hand. “My name’s Alice. What’s yours?” Alice gave Izumi a nod, signaling for her to free up one of the fox-woman’s hands.

The fact that Alice’s throat wasn’t ripped out the moment after the fox-woman received her limited freedom was a good sign. Instead, she carefully closed her oversized paw around Alice’s much smaller hand, shaking briefly. “Renamon,” she answered.

It took a little more conversation and several assurances from Renamon that she’d calmed down before Izumi was willing to remove the other bindings holding her to the floor. From there, the talk turned towards welcoming Renamon into their group. Renamon seemed reluctant, as were Homura and Izumi. Alice and Fuuka did what they could to convince them of the benefits of sticking together. Finally, it came down to Kay-Em.

“Look,” she said. “Fox-girl’s got some sweet moves. Plus, she’s kinda cute. I think we’d benefit from helping each other out.”

Alice looked the others over, seeing they were all more or less convinced. “Alright, it’s settled. Renamon, welcome to the team. Let’s take ten minutes to rest and then get moving.”


Alice felt a bit of renewed hope as she led her group out of the building. They’d managed to turn an unexpected and potentially deadly situation into a benefit. She didn’t understand what Renamon was or what she could do, but she’d already proven herself to be a valuable asset. Plus, Kay-Em’s right, she thought. She is kinda cute.

“Whoa,” Kay-Em called out. “You guys hear that?”

The group paused, trying to catch the same sounds Kay-Em’s synthetic ears could. Gradually, they caught it.

“Sounds like…” Izumi frowned. “Music?”

“Yea,” Alice agreed. “Rock music.”

“It’s coming from back the way we came,” Fuuka said. “Maybe that’s why there were so many zombies back there. There might be another survivor.”

“Seems likely,” Izumi agreed.

“Maybe we should have fought our way through them,” Fuuka said, a worried expression filling her face. “If there’s a survivor back there, we can’t just leave them.”

Izumi nodded. “As one of those survivors you helped, I agree. I wouldn’t have lasted long without you.”

“There’s a difference,” Homura pointed out, pointing to Izumi. “You didn’t blast music that draw every monster in the city to you. This idiot deserves to die. And we shouldn’t risk ourselves to save them.”

Renamon remained silent. Her fox-like face didn’t offer any insight into what her opinion might be.

Alice knew the ultimate decision was up to her. She was tempted to leave the unfortunate survivor behind. Homura had a point, and they had far more people to worry about in the opposite direction. Before she could say as much, Kay-Em spoke again.

“It’s not just music,” she informed them. “I also detect the sound of heavy auto-fire and explosive ordinance.” Without a body, she lacked the capability of shrugging, but she did her best to express the motion anyway. “Having another heavy hitter on the team might not be the worst thing in the world. Could be worth the risk.”

Alice’s face scrunched up. “If we’re going to make it back to the Bunker in time and do anything to help, we need Homura,” she pointed out. “That time stopping shit makes me want to puke my guts out and take a twelve hour nap, but it’s something that could make the difference in this shitty war we got dumped into.” She looked to the others, seeing their opinions painted clearly on their faces. “But Fuuka and Izumi have a point, too. I don’t feel right leaving someone behind if we can make a difference. We start doing that and we’re no better than the monsters we’re killing. And, yes, having some extra firepower and someone who knows how to cause damage would be nice.” She let out a long sigh, looking towards the direction of the disturbance and then the way to the bunker.

“Fuck…” she muttered.


The survivors had done the impossible. They’d escaped the Bunker. But they were far from safe. That much became clear shortly after they made it out of the street that had become a slaughterhouse for so many of their number. The sound of the Man-Horse’s hooves thudding against the asphalt was the only warning they got before the beast surged towards them, a pack of Hell Flyers in his wake. Chaos erupted once more as the group tried to fend off the attack. The party wound up splitting, the bulk of the survivors escaping in one direction, while a smaller group rushed off another way. The bloodthirsty creatures chose to pursue the smaller group.

Panic may have been flowing strong, but the smaller band of survivors established a loose command structure very quickly. Possessing the same protective instincts as her Saber counterpart, Lancer Artoria fell back to cover their rear. Oerba Yun Fang rushed ahead to lead the group. Jack was content to hang in the middle, shotgun held close. She already had a plan if things went terribly wrong. Shoot the hillbilly bitch in the leg and let the monsters eat her, she figured, glancing to Joy Turner. It wasn’t just a matter of Joy being the weakest fighter amongst them. Even during the madness of escaping the bunker, rumors were already spreading about Joy’s role in Tsuyu’s lynching. Jack didn’t like many people, but she’d developed a fondness for the shy frog-girl. Any excuse for Joy to have an unfortunate accident was alright with Jack.

Fang spotted the manhole before it came to that. The lid was half off. “Get this open,” she called to the bulk of the group before shifting and rushing back to help Lancer hold the creatures at bay. Ada and Taki went for the manhole cover, working together to slide it the rest of the way open. Jack remained ready with her shotgun in case Lancer and Fang let any of the beasts by. Parasoul stood ready above the manhole, Kreig held firmly in her hands, prepared to deal with any nastiness that might come crawling free of the sewer. Joy remained with the rest of the survivors in the smaller party, fiddling with her frying pan.

Fang managed to down a few of the Hell Flyers, but their incessant shrieks drew more of their numbers to the fight. Lancer engaged in a deadly dance with the Man-Horse, each of them attempting to find an opening to launch a fatal strike. Despite his bulk, the Man-Horse proved to be quite agile, able to shift and twist to block and counter Lancer’s strikes. Lancer took their ongoing struggle as a positive. Killing the monster would have been great, but more important was the time she was buying the others to escape. If she had to go on tangling with the Man-Horse for a little while longer and ultimately leave the thing alive, it would still be a victory if everyone got away safely.

When no monstrosities leapt from the sewer entrance, Parasoul volunteered to go first. She hopped into the hole, holding Kreig up and expanding the unorthodox weapon into a deployed umbrella state to slow her descent. The canopy ignited, shedding some much needed light on the situation down below. Her head turned from side to side, eyes scanning for any sign of danger. By the time her feet touched the damp cement, she’d confirmed – to the best of her ability – that the sewer was clear of horrors. She called back her discovery to the others, greenlighting their escape route and ushering in the remainder of the survivors, but remained vigilant for any unwanted surprises.

Lancer saw an opening and exploited it. She moved behind the Man-Horse, lance jerked back and ready to skewer the beast. The creature launched itself forward, planting down hard on its front hooves. Its back legs rose up and kicked back. The massive hooves slammed into Lancer’s bountiful chest, flinging her backwards and knocking the air from her lungs. Her weapon slipped from her fingers, clattering across the road a moment before her perky ass landed. She flipped backwards, legs shooting up before dropping. Lancer groaned as her bruised breasts mashed against the solid surface, feeling a couple ribs shifting from the impact.

Fang took notice of Lancer’s fall. She looked to the woman, first confirming that she wasn’t dead and then struggling with whether she should rush to her aid or not. She glanced back to the others, seeing them hurriedly slipping down into the sewer. She tried to weigh the risk of ignoring the Hell Flyers for a few moments to help Lancer against staying on task, neglecting to realize that simply worrying about the choice had left her distracted from the threat she currently faced. The Hell Flyers weren’t nearly as obtuse, noticing the woman’s lack of focus immediately and surging to take advantage of it.

Several of the beasts rushed in and grabbed hold of Fang’s weapon, struggling to pry it from her hands. Others moved in around her, closing in tight and latching their clawed fingers into her body. Fang cried out, twisting and turning as she attempted to fling the creatures aside. She elbowed one in the face and managed to dislodge it from her back, but another was quick to move in to take the thing’s place. Her efforts to get free strengthened as her feet left the ground, the batch of Hell Flyers carrying her into the air. Her fingers slipped against the shaft of her spear, eventually losing her hold completely. “No,” she gasped as her weapon was plucked away from her.

The Hell Flyers fought amongst themselves for Fang’s spear. The woman was left to dangle and squirm as they sorted out which of them would get the honor of wielding the weapon. Finally, one emerged victorious. He flipped the weapon in his hands, getting a sense of the weight and just how to use the thing. Fang’s eyes shot wide as she spotted the sharp end of her spear aimed at her. “Wait,” she yelled, just as the Hell Flyer flung the weapon towards her. The tip punched through her slender belly, ripping through her and exploding from her back. The force of the impact tore her from the grip of the Hell Flyers, launching her back to the ground. She grunted as the end of her spear crunched through the asphalt, leaving her pinned. Gravity pulled her the rest of the way to the ground, sliding down the bloody length of the spear until she lay prone and helpless.

A Hell Flyer dropped onto Fang’s chest, ripping her top open. His clawed fingers dug into the soft mounds of flesh as he slid his pulsing erection into her cleavage. Fang’s clenched fist came up, cracking the creature across his jaw and sending him skidding to the side off her chest. Her legs lay limp, spread open and paralyzed from the spear’s severing of her spine. She couldn’t do anything to dissuade the next Hell Flyer from tearing his way through the crotch of her outfit and sheathing himself in her warm, gripping snatch. Another dropped onto her head, smacking his prick across her lips before getting into her mouth. She gagged around the putrid flesh as it stuffed her throat, hands scrambling to pull the thing away. The stricken Hell Flyer returned to Fang’s chest, resuming his abruptly aborted tit-fucking. Blood pooled around her from her stomach wound, rapidly sapping Fang’s strength and leaving her helpless against the onslaught of gangrape the Hell Flyer’s were happily bestowing upon her.

It hadn’t taken long for Fang’s fate to play out. Lancer was still recovering from the blow she’d taken. She managed to make it back to her feet, a grimace of disgust crossing her face as she watched one of the Hell Flyer’s twist Fang’s legs to the side so he could wedge his way up the dying woman’s tight asshole. She looked away, knowing she couldn’t save Fang, and that she couldn’t afford to waste time. Spotting her lost weapon, she charged towards it, far too aware that the Man-Horse had no intention of letting her reach the lance. Her legs pumped hard, arm stretching out for the handle, racing for her very existence.

The Man-Horse’s flank knocked against Lancer’s side, knocking her off course. The masculine figure fused to the top of the nightmare horse turned and shoved the tip of his lance-like arm into the woman’s sternum. Lancer cried out as the organic weapon crunched through her breastbone, impaling her with the same cruel force that Fang had felt such a short time ago. The rider flexed his arm, hauling Lancer into the air. The blonde spotted the throbbing manhood rising from the rider’s crotch, her hands slapping against the flesh and bone lance skewering her, trying to pry herself off the weapon. Her legs kicked out, feet knocking against the Man-Horse’s horse head. She hacked up a thick wad of blood, knowing that even escaping her impalement would do little to prolong her survival.

With its prey skewered, the Man-Horse’s thoughts shifted. The fusion of man and horse was crudely efficient and nightmarishly designed, but it possessed a nearly constant level of internal conflict. The conflict became particularly severe as Lancer dangled from the Man’s lance-arm, bloody tits jiggling as she coughed and sputtered. Both halves of the hybrid creature shared a lust, but they each possessed their own means of satisfying their desire. With Fang’s corpse already stuffed full of Hell Flyer cock and the last of the survivors darting down the open manhole, the Man-Horse fought to find a way to use Lancer to satisfy both halves of itself.

The Man lowered his arm, Lancer’s body unwillingly going along for the ride. The Horse twisted his head to the side and stretched his jaw open. The mouth opened wider than it should have, a loose membrane of skin glistening as his teeth extended outwards. The teeth closed around Lancer’s waist, digging in firmly. The Man reached out with his normal arm, snaring his prey’s head. He hooked a thumb past her bloody lips to maintain a steady hold on her head. Man and Horse worked as one. The Horse jerked his head down while the Man pulled upwards. Lancer’s eyes bulged, body shuddering as her neck stretched painfully. With a wet shredding sound, the front of her throat tore open, unleashing another heavy spray of crimson across the tops of her tits. A hard crunch signaled the breaking of her neck and her head came away from the rest of her body. The twitching husk was allowed to slide free of the Man’s lance, flopping and flailing wildly against the ground beneath the Horse.

The Horse’s front legs bent, lowering his massive bulk over Lancer’s headless corpse. His massive cock pushed between her trembling thighs, mashing against the crotch of her outfit. Carefully hooking the front of his hooves under the woman’s shoulders, he effectively pinned her in place as he drove against the minimal armor of the fabric covering her sex. The fabric tore, allowing the Horse to ram the flattened tip of his prick against the folds of Lancer’s pussy. Lancer’s bladder spasmed, urine erupting from her crotch to spray across the Horse’s cockhead. The Horse let out a pleased whiney as he finally managed to hammer his way into the dead woman’s cunt, stretching the orifice wide around his cruel girth. The beast’s hindquarters jerked back and forth, shoving himself deeper into Lancer’s body. A bulge formed against her belly as the monster bashed his way through her cervix and ripped through her uterus. Her blood-soaked breasts bounced in time with the Horse’s thrusts.

The Man pulled Lancer’s head down into his crotch. He dragged the tip of his member across the woman’s soft, sticky lips, blending her blood with his pre-cum. He watched the muscles in her cheeks tremble, the last of her life flickering in her wide eyes. He pushed his way into her mouth, dragging his cock across her flopping tongue before that life faded completely, guaranteeing that she got to taste his dick before she expired. He rammed her head down his length, mashing her nose against his crotch. Her esophagus was limp, but tight enough to satisfy his sexual urges. The Man shifted atop the stead that made up the bulk of his lower half, plugging Lancer’s throat with his cock. Both Horse and Man hammered into the holes they’d claimed for themselves, racing one another towards a satisfying climax.

Taki had been the last to drop into the sewer, silently thanking Lancer and Fang for their sacrifice. She’d tried to pull the manhole closed behind her but only managed to get it halfway into place. She hoped that would be enough to deter any monsters from following after them. The Man-Horse was too large to fit, at least, and the Hell Flyers seemed unlikely to give up their advantage of flight. She joined the others at the bottom of the ladder. Grim faces were eerily lit by Parasoul’s umbrella.

“So,” Jack finally broke the silence, looking around at the others. “Now what?”


The large group of survivors didn’t trust the apparent safety of the building they’d taken refuge in, but they’d needed someplace to rest and regroup from the frantic battle. They’d barely been out of the Bunker and had already lost a chunk of their numbers. Azula hoped that the group that had been split away and chased off by the Man-Horse and Hell Flyers would find a way to survive, but she doubted it. The only solace she took from the event was that it had given her enough time to get the bulk of the others away. It wasn’t much of a victory, and it wouldn’t mean anything if she didn’t come up with a plan to escape the horrors of the Necropolis.

Letting the others rest – or at least attempt to – Azula pulled aside the Baroness and several others she trusted. She needed a sounding board, but not one that would potential raise the level of panic in the general masses. She was the only Bunker Commander left. The others were looking to her for leadership. Given the stakes, she didn’t much care for the responsibility, but she wasn’t about to pass it off to someone else. Still, she needed some help in figuring out what to do next. One wrong move could get a lot of people killed. Maybe all of them.

“Well, we’ve successfully escaped the frying pan,” Baroness pointed out. “Now we just have to douse the fire we find ourselves in.”

Azula wasn’t familiar with the expression, but she got the gist of it. “Going back to the Bunker isn’t an option. Alice’s team found a bridge, but there was something keeping them from crossing it. Staying here is suicide. And there’s too many of use to rely on staying hidden for every long. If at all. Am I missing anything?”

“Supplies and weaponry,” Peggy Carter pointed out. “Specifically, we’re low on both. We’ve also got wounded. Nothing life threatening, but it’s enough to slow us down.”

“We’ll be slow enough as it is with such a large group,” Balalaika muttered.

No one disagreed.

There were close to fifty survivors in their party. Even if everyone had been in perfect health, organizing and moving with speed would not have been possible. “We need a way out of the city,” Azula said, knowing they needed a plan of action before she could focus on the problems. “Something Alice’s team overlooked, or something we dismissed.”

“What about the airport?” Baroness suggested. “It was ruled out before because there were too many of us, but now.” She looked over the remaining survivors. “This many could fit on a single plane. Take to the skies, try to fly out. The worst monsters we’ve seen capable of flight are the Hell Flyers. And I doubt they can fly high enough to catch us if we get up to a decent altitude.”

There’d been a general map of the Necropolis in the Bunker. In the panic, no one had thought to copy it before evacuating the place, but Azula had examined it enough times to have a decent memory of the layout. She asked her small group of advisors for a bit of paper and something to write with. Crouching, she sketched out a crude map, filling out as much as she could recall. “Alright,” she said, looking it over. “The airport’s not exactly close, but from where we are, we can take a fairly direct path to it. Can anyone fly a plane, though?”

“I can,” Baroness volunteered.

“As can I,” Peggy nodded.

“We should see if anyone else can,” Azula said. “Just in case.” She didn’t need to expand on her reasoning. They all knew just how likely it was that there would be losses during the trip. “But it sounds like our best option.” She indicated where they were on her scrawled map, drawing her finger from that point to the airport. “The next problem is, the most direct path. It’ll be the fastest way to get there, but Alice’s team never made it out that way. We don’t know what’s waiting for us.”

“Perhaps we could take a better scouted route,” Peggy offered. “It would be slower, but we’d have the benefit of intelligence on our side.”

Balalaika shook her head. “A slower route would only give those monsters more time to catch up to us.”

“Perhaps,” Peggy conceded. “But a less direct route would also prevent them from predicting our destination. It would hardly matter if we kept them from nipping at our heels if we arrived to find the airport crawling with enemy forces.”

“It might be crawling with enemy forces regardless,” Baroness pointed out. She looked to Azula. “You’re in charge,” she said. She even managed to keep the condescending tone of her voice mostly at bay. “Ultimately, it’s your call.”


The music radiating from the Symphogear was necessary to keep Chris Yukine alive, but she’d soon realized making so much noise probably wasn’t the best of things as more and more of the shambling undead forces were drawn towards her. It was a vicious, unsustainable cycle. The more noise she made, the more enemies she drew. The more enemies she drew, the more noise she needed to make to defend herself. The walking dead went down easily enough, but the Hellhounds were tougher, faster, even smarter.

As a freshly initiated victim of the Necropolis, Chris didn’t know all the horrors the city had. She’d been driven into reactive defense so fast that she’d not had a chance to survey her surroundings or construct even a rudimentary plan. That reaction had clued her into one of the Necropolis’s more devious elements pretty quick, though. Her Symphogear wasn’t at full power. While she didn’t seem to have much problem conjuring forth as much ammo for her laser crossbows as she needed, Chris struggled and failed to manifest any of her heavier hitting weaponry. And even the limited capacity of her Symphogear’s abilities took far more effort than it should have, steadily sapping her energy.

Chris managed to hold the small horde at bay for a time, but as her strength waned, she was forced to pull back. The city street was littered in rubble and unfamiliar to her. With the monstrosities closing in on her, her options for escape grew limited fast. Focusing more on killing as many of the creatures as she could made it nearly impossible for her to plan an effective route. By the time she realized she’d backed herself into a corner, there were too many monsters to break through. Could really use a hand about now, she thought bitterly, unsure if there were even any others capable or willing to save her. She certainly saw no friendly faces amongst the decaying zombies or the slobbering Hellhounds.

The back of Chris’s left foot knocked against a chunk of broken asphalt. She let out a startled yell as her balance shifted and she dropped hard onto her ass. From the ground, the looming blend of zombies and demon beasts seemed a good deal more terrifying. She scrambled for her dropped crossbow as one of the Hellhounds charged towards her, leaping into the air. The creature’s big maw stretched open, fangs glistening with saliva. If she didn’t act fast, they’d soon be glistening with her blood.

Pure instinct saved Chris. She gave up on trying to grab her weapon and rolled onto her back. Her legs came up between her and the Hellhound just in time to become an effective blockade. The beast’s big head stretched towards her face, teeth snapping inches from her. Chris jerked her head back as far as she could to avoid having her face ripped away. The Hellhound’s paws clawed towards her, attempting to shred through her breasts, but the Symphogear armor managed to hold up against the assault. With a hard grunt, Chris kicked against the Hellhound, flinging it away from her. She rolled to the side, snatched up her crossbow, and fired several laser bolts through the beast’s head before it could recover.

The close encounter with the Hellhound had only taken a handful of heart-pounding seconds, but it had been more than enough time for the rest of the monstrosities to close in around Chris. She scrambled to her feet, searching for a way out or a way through. With the wall of an office building behind her, there was nowhere for her to go. She was too tired to kill her way through the problem with the crossbow. Desperation inspired a last-ditch plan that, not-so-deep down, she knew was insane. But she needed to do something – anything – to save herself. No one else was going to do it.

Chris activated her Symphogear’s Armor Purger attack. A radiance flowed across the protective suit as the armor reverted into a form of pure energy. Chris momentarily became a beacon not of sound, but of light. And then, with a sudden flash, the Symphogear exploded away from her body. The oncoming death of zombies and Hellhounds became a crimson mist as they were shredded by the powerful attack, saving Chris’s life. At least momentarily.

Gasping for air and feeling even more exhausted, Chris slumped against the wall. The rough cement pressed against her bare backside and she let out a groan as she lifted her arms to conceal her naked breasts and exposed crotch. She’d known exactly what the Armor Purge would leave her with, but in her panic, she’d not truly thought it out. It was – hopefully – only a temporary thing, but judging by the fatigue in her muscles, and the partially crippled abilities of her Symphogear, she knew it would be at least a few minutes before she could reactivate it. Until then, she’d have to deal with being utterly naked – in more ways than one – in the hostile environment. At least all the monsters are dead, she thought hopefully, moving forward to check through the pile of corpses to see if she could find something remotely intact enough – and not disgusting enough – to wear while she waited for her armor to recharge.

The Gulper looked a fair bit like the Blow Hunters. Appropriate, considering the nightmare creature was a mutated variant of the Hunters. It lacked the former’s impressive jumping ability, as well as its thorny self-destruct sequence. But it had a few of its own unique, terrible abilities. Drawn to the commotion Chris had caused, it crept out of a nearby alleyway to see the young woman’s perky posterior raised towards it as she leaned over a zombie corpse, attempting to tug free a mostly intact shirt. The Gulper’s lust stirred alongside its hunger. The creature prepared to strike.

Chris tugged the shirt free and let out a groan of disgust as she saw just how much blood had soaked into the fabric. She let the garment drop, silently urging her Symphogear to recover so she didn’t have to stand around in the buff much longer. The Gulper’s greasy tongue smacked across her back, leaving behind a sticky wad of slime. Chris cried out, stumbling forward from the impact before cocking her head to the side to locate her attacker. Turning her back to potential threats had been a dumb move. Thankfully, she’d only gotten another reminder of how disgusting her new environment was. With no weapons and no way of defending herself, her options were ridiculously simple. Flee.

Chris made it only a few feet before the tingling permeating her slime-coated skin seeped deeper into her. Her face filled with horrified confusion as her spine began to numb. Her legs stuttered, nearly pulling her back to the ground. She managed to keep herself upright by twisting to the side and flopping against the building wall beside her. She gasped, full breasts pressing against the rough surface as she realized the slime wasn’t just gross, it was weaponized. The paralyzing neurotoxin worked steadily, crippling her without doing the slightest damage to her immaculate flesh. Chris slumped to her knees against the building, gritting her teeth as she tried to force feeling back into her heavy legs. Her efforts doubled – but remained equally unsuccessful – as she heard the Gulper trudging towards her.

The Gulper clamped a hand down around Chris’s head, clutching her white hair and pulling her partially paralyzed body up. It twisted her around and shoved her back against the wall. Her purple eyes widened with sickened horror as she took in the gruesome, wide-mouthed creature’s appearance in far closer detail than she would have ever cared to. She wanted to lash out at the thing, to beat it back with her fists, but her arms were already feeling like a couple of limp noodles draped at her sides. She managed to lift them only an inch or so before they slumped back. If not for the Gulper’s bulk keeping her pinned to the wall, she would have collapsed completely.

The Gulper’s lust outpaced its hunger. With the young woman’s soft body mashed up against its slick flesh, the tingles of ecstasy that rushed through it could not be denied. A thick, bulbed prick slid free from between the Gulper’s legs, pushing between Chris’s thighs. The white-haired woman let out a yell of disgust as she felt the oddly shaped phallus drag across her helpless cunt lips. The thing’s bulbous lumps pressed hard against her folds, mashing against her clitoris and sending jolts of sickening, unwanted pleasure shooting through her loins. Chris strained even harder to get her muscles to work, tears stinging her eyes as horrid flashbacks to her childhood filled her mind. “P-please,” she whimpered out. “Not again!”

The Gulper could not comprehend Chris’s words. It had no knowledge of her previous molestation. Even if it was capable of such things, it would not have stopped the monster. The frog-like nightmare adjust itself, mashing the tip of its misshapen prick against her sex. Its hips thrust, skewering several of the thick bulbs into Chris’s cunt. The young woman shrieked, less from physical pain and more from mental torment. Her purple eyes bulged, gushing tears as her body trembled against her attacker. The Gulper took only ecstasy from the way the girl’s hot pussy convulsed around his pumping member. The creature fucked her harder, sandwiching her against the wall.

The Symphogear should have been recharged enough to activate her armor. Chris hoped it would be. The defensive shell would not only save her life, it could put an appropriately cruel end to her rape. The fact that she couldn’t really feel the big, bulbed dick pounding into her very well clued her in to just how paralyzed she was, but as she tried to sing out for the Symphogear to activate, she realized it was even worse than she’d feared. The squeaks that crept up her throat weren’t even close to the song she’d intended to sing. The neurotoxin had reached her lungs. As she struggled to suck in air, Chris whined with rising horror as she realized her only chance of defending herself was impossible to activate.

Chris didn’t need to feel the Gulper’s cock. Even with her cunt muscles paralyzed, the warm sheath was quite pleasant to thrust into. The monster hammered into her faster, fucking its way closer to its inevitable climax. As the urge to blow its load into the young woman built, so did its hunger. Its wide lips peeled open, stretching wide to reveal its glistening maw to Chris. She stared down the Gulper’s gullet and let out a weak, half-strangled scream. She wiggled between her rapist and the wall, the most movement she could muster with the neurotoxin continuing to work its way through her muscles, transforming them into limp, inert jelly.

The Gulper stretched its head forward, easily moving its lips over Chris’s head. The young woman’s world became humid darkness as the monster’s lips smacked closed around her throat. She sobbed within the claustrophobic environment of the Gulper’s mouth, mind revolting from the combination of old traumas and new ones. The creature’s tongue slathered her face in more of its slime, leaving her skin tingling. The Gulper arched its head forward, sliding its lips over Chris’s shoulders as it humped harder into her unfeeling sex.

The Gulper closed its hands around Chris’s sides, pulling her further into its mouth. The creature’s bottom lip crept over the curves of the woman’s plump tits, tickling her nipples – one of the few parts of her still capable of feeling anything. The Gulper’s humping sped up as the gooey bulbs of its cock slowly pulled free from Chris’s snatch, forced to drive into her with shallower strokes as it consumed its barely squirming meal. The lips of Chris’s cunt dragged across the sensitive tip of the Gulper’s cock, unwillingly – and unknowingly – teasing the monster to the point of release as her paralyzed bladder drained warm piss down its shaft.

The head of the Gulper’s prick popped free of Chris’s pussy. The length of glistening, bulbed flesh pulsed before spraying out a creamy load of pale green spunk across the young woman’s violated sex. It pumped over her folds and flowed along the insides of her thighs. As the Gulper’s throat muscles tugged Chris deeper, her body shifted and her belly received the final few spurts of the creature’s orgasm. The Gulper’s member drooped, gradually drawing back into its body, much like Chris was being gradually dragged into it. With its lust satiated, the Gulper focused fully on devouring its post-sex meal.

Tilting its head back, the Gulper made good on its namesake, gulping at Chris’s limp form. Her perky ass raised towards the air, legs dangling against the creature’s torso. The smooth cheeks of her rear vanished into the Gulper’s maw as its tongue slithered up between her thighs, hooking against her to help pull her down. Chris’s legs disappeared bit by bit into the monster, until only her feet remained, pressed close together. Her toes, still resisting the neurotoxin and wiggling wildly, were the last to go, vanishing into the Gulper with a wet slurp. The creature jerked its head, swallowing hard several more times to work the massive lump of young woman fully down into its stomach. The monster’s skin stretched, offering the vague outline of its victim pressed against it.

Digestion was a guarantee. Trapped within the Gulper’s gut, Chris’s body was already being basted in stomach juices. The process would be slow and, if she’d been unlucky enough to live through even some of it, excruciating. But Chris had far more immediate problems. Her paralyzed lungs, specifically. Frozen within her chest, Chris strained to suck in even the fetid air within the Gulper’s body. Her lips smacked against the pool of juices gathering at the bottom of the monster’s stomach, face darkening and eyes bulging as she suffocated. The neurotoxin was saving her from hours of painfully slow digestion. In her panic, Chris did not see it that way. She struggled and suffered, trying desperately to breathe, until her brain began to shut down. With the paralytic affecting her so strongly, there wasn’t even much of an indication of Chris’s death. She went from a limp, helpless lump of meat waiting to be broken down to a dead, useless lump of meat waiting to be broken down with only the subtlest of shudders to indicate the transition.

Satisfied with its conquest and its meal, the Gulper crept back towards the alley it had been lurking in. Its movements were a good deal slower with Chris’s added body weight and the awkward lump of her corpse distending the creature’s gut. But the Gulper had nothing to fear. With the girl dead and consumed, there was nothing left to threaten the monster. It disappeared back down the alley and settled in to digest its big meal.


“The music’s stopped,” Kay-Em announced to the rest of the scouts. She didn’t need to elaborate on the statement for the others to understand what it meant. Whoever had been making all the noise was almost certainly dead.

Alice glanced to Fuuka, seeing her own guilt mirrored on the young woman’s face.

“We should have tried to help them,” Izumi muttered, voicing her own regret. “I know we’re dealing with a lot, but no one deserves what this place does.”

Renamon said nothing. Her animal face was hard to read, but Alice was pretty sure she wasn’t particularly bothered by the loss of life.

Homura was more vocal about reinforcing the choice they’d made. “You’re not wrong, but we can’t save everyone. And not everyone who’s brought into this nightmare is worthy of saving.” She looked to Izumi. “You weren’t around for the crazy Japanese bitch with the mace. And anyone making that much noise in this place is, at the very least, crazy.” She shrugged. “Or they were, anyway.”

“That’s cold,” Izumi shot back, glaring over at Homura.

“Enough,” Alice barked. “I made the call. I’ll take the guilt. Whether it was a smart choice or not, I guess we might never know.” Speaking of choices, she thought as she eyed the looming Sports Arena ahead. They’d spotted the building before, but had chosen to go around it to avoid the potential of an ambush in such a confined space. Previously, they’d not had to worry much about time constraints. Now, they did. And going through the Arena would save them a good deal of time. But it was unscouted and still just as potentially dangerous as it had been the first time they’d come to the place. It was another potentially damning choice. This time, Alice decided to keep it to herself, pondering the pros and cons in her head.


Jack didn’t want to be in charge. Being in charge meant responsibility. But looking over the assortment of other survivors who’d made it into the sewer, they either didn’t want the job or were in no shape to take it. As much as she didn’t like Supergirl’s goody-two-shoes attitude – it reminded her too much of Miranda’s cheerleader ass – Jack felt like the blonde would have made a better leader. But her Kryptonian powers had been corrupted by the Necropolis’s aura, the way it obscured the yellow sun and interrupted the radiation it sent out before it reached Kara’s body. Beyond that, spending an extended period of time within the Bunker and now the sewer had left her weak. She was still strong enough to do some damage, but Jack was pretty sure a particularly beefy chick could have given her a run for her money.

So Kara was out. And no one else was capable or willing to do it. Aside from Joy. And Jack wasn’t about to let the white trash bitch take over. She’s lucky my first act as Defacto Bitch in Charge wasn’t to shove her back up onto the street, Jack thought as she led the group deeper into the sewers. Going down had seemed like a possible risk, considering they had no idea what kind of fresh horrors waited for them in the sewers, but getting further away from the chaos up above had seemed like the best course of action. So down they’d gone. And so far, so good, Jack thought.

The good soon became a bit better, at least in terms of potential benefit. The generator room was quiet, dark, clearly powered down, but the equipment still looked intact. She directed Ada and Quorra to spread out, check the rooms corners. She kept Parasoul close, both to maintain the light to see as well as to be an obvious target for anything that might be lurking in the room. Kara and Taki took up the rear, guarding them from any surprise attacks as well as keeping the less combat-experienced members of their party relatively safe.

Jack and Parasoul were halfway through the center of the generator room when the light of the glowing umbrella drew the attention of a pack of zombies from an adjacent break room. The moans, growls, and hisses clued Jack in to the oncoming attack. “Contact!” she yelled to the others. “Twelve o’clock!” She’d barely gotten the words past her lips before the undead began spilling in towards her and the others.

The usual bags of pus and meat were plentiful. And even though it was safe to say they were the least threatening thing the Necropolis had to offer, they were far from being safe. Amongst the regular dead heads, Jack spotted a couple of Deathscythes in the mix. They were properly dangerous. One proved as much by nearly decapitating Ada. The woman dodged the strike, but earn a shallow gash across one collar bone. She responded to the attack by blasting several holes through the Deathsycthe’s bone-bladed arm. Not enough to destroy it, but enough to weaken it and force the creature to pull back.

Jack called back to the rear guard to come forward and help. If they got ambushed from behind, they’d have big problems regardless of how everyone was positioned. Better to deal with the current threat as quickly as possible. Her shotgun made mush out of one zombie’s head. As the corpse dropped, she spotted the obese form of a Big Man lumbering into the room. The hulking zombie’s gut split open, spilling his living innards free. Parasoul let out a shriek as one length of intestine looped around her waist and yanked her towards the waiting maw of the Big Man’s belly. Jack rushed forward, firing her shotgun repeatedly until she shredded through the tough length of gut. Parasoul rolled free, shrieking as a few spatters of digestive juices landed on her arm. She pawed at it, trying to wipe the burning fluid free but only managing to burn her fingertips in the process. Jack grabbed her by the back of her shirt and yanked her away from the chaos.

Hastily shoving fresh shells into her weapon, Jack caught sight of another of the Big Man’s intestines launching towards her. A quick flash cut across the grotesque tentacle of tissue, severing it neatly. She spotted the glowing disc whip around the room before returning to Quorra. The pale-skinned woman twisted with her unique weapon to shave a nearby zombie’s face off. Before the Big Man could recover from his second length of gut getting sliced off, Taki dropped in from the side. Her sword cut smoothly through the large zombie’s head, bisecting it from his left temple down to his right cheek. The upper half of the Big Man’s head slid away to reveal his putrid brains before he collapsed heavily to the ground.

The Deathscythe with the shot-up bone-blade made an attempt to gut Kara. Showing she still had a fair bit of her strength left, she caught the blade in her hands. With a grunt of far more strain than she should’ve had to exert, she shattered the bone-blade, wincing as the jagged shards left more than a few cuts across her palms. She ignored the pain and cocked her fist back, slamming it through the Deathscythe’s face and out the back of his head. Kara stumbled as the creature fell, nearly dragging her to the floor with him. As she struggled to pull her arm free, Joy showed she wasn’t completely self-centered and useless, moving forward to smash the frying pans he held across the head of an advancing zombie with his dead, milky eyes fixed on Supergirl.

“Us blondes gotta stick together,” Joy remarked to Kara with a cocky smirk.

With two of the big hitters already down and the bulk of the average zombies reduced to proper corpses, there were more than enough able bodies with capable weaponry to handle the remaining Deathscythe. Jack almost felt bad for the thing as they tore it to pieces under the onslaught of their attack. But mostly, she just felt satisfied. “Payback’s a fuckin’ cunt, ain’t it, boys?” she growled to the pile of stinking corpses at her feet as she reloaded her shotgun.

Given the unexpected nature of the assault, they’d come through it more or less alright. Not completely unscathed, but the wounds were minimal. Dot Everest volunteered to do what she could to patch people up. Tron Bonne offered up the first aid supplies she’d looted from Anna’s shop before she’d made it out of the Bunker. Jack gave the go ahead, silently wishing they’d found Dot before Bathory had claimed her spot as the Bunker’s head doctor. The young blonde may have lacked extensive surgical knowledge or experience, but she had a steadfast approach and a sense of genuine care for what she did. Plus, I’ve gotta feeling she could be a bit of a badass if she let her freak flag fly, Jack thought as she turned her attention to cleaning up the pile of corpses they’d created.

The cause of so many zombies grouped together was discovered in the break room they’d been congregating in. The corpse was still fresh. Fresh enough that Jack wondered how soon the woman had been brought into the Necropolis. If they’d been a bit faster, they may have even been able to save her. Now, there wasn’t anything to save. The woman’s head was a tangle of vibrant red hair and thoroughly chewed face tissue, making it impossible to identify her. Tattered strips of a ruby red dress still clung to some parts of her thoroughly fucked body, jizz leaking steadily from her cunt and ass. One plump, pale tit had been left virtually undamaged, only a few light nibbles taken from it, but the other hand been devoured completely. Ada popped a round into the unfortunate redhead’s skull, just to be safe.

After looting the snack machines in the break room and confirming there was no way out other than the one door, Jack figured it was as good a place as any to dump all the dead zombies. Once the door was sealed, the stench in the generator room improved. Not by much. But it was something.

While Dot patched up those in need of it, Ellie Langford and Tron looked over the generator.

“What’s the deal?” Jack asked as she finished up with the cleanup. “You know what this thing does? If it even works?”

Ellie shrugged. “The only way to know exactly what the generator powers would be to repair it.”

“So it’s busted?” Jack asked.

“Only a little,” Tron answered. “We have the basic tools to repair it and restart it.”

Jack sighed, looking the generator over. “You’ve gotta give me more than that before we waste time and resources fixing the fucking thing.”

“There’s a computer terminal on the far side of the room,” Ellie said. “It’s a safe bet the generator will get it back on. Of course, there’s no telling if there’ll be anything of use on the terminal. Other than that, we’ll likely get power to the immediate area. Lights. Maybe unlock some doors.”

“Being able to see where we’re going would be nice,” Jack said. “But it might also put a big damn target on us.” She sighed. This is why I don’t wanna be in charge…


“We have too many people to risk taking an un-scouted path,” Azula decided. “Even if it’s slower, it’s bound to be safer. Even so, we should try to find the most direct scenic route possible.” She looked over the map she’d scrawled out. “We should take a little time to hammer out a proper path, along with backup options in case we run into something we don’t want to deal with.” She glanced towards Baroness. “And we’ll need to do something about staying ahead of the Legions at our back.”

Azula had no need to expand on what she meant. Baroness knew. She suspected some of the others in the woman’s little party of advisors knew, too. No one wanted to talk about the cold reality of what was required to survive. Baroness was fine with that. She far preferred being a woman of action, not words. She left Azula to finish planning their slower route, making her way back to the bulk of the Bunker survivors. Just as Azula had recruited her own band of helpers, Baroness had her own. Granted, Baroness’s helpers were less for planning things and more for carrying out whatever less-than-moral acts needed doing.

Baroness found her minions near the outskirts of the group of survivors, performing their assigned duty of protection with a clear sense of boredom. Nena Trinity and Lola made for an interesting pair. Nena was shorter than Lola, with some of her red hair pulled up into ponytails while the rest was left to flow over the backs of her shoulders. Her golden eyes and freckled cheeks gave her a far friendlier appearance than her demeanor. Lola appeared more hostile, even without trying. Tall and lithe with her bleach blonde hair cropped short and styled. Nena’s two-piece tight-fitting bodysuit was alluring, but practical. Lola’s attire amounted to the equivalent of lingerie with a lab coat pulled over her skinny shoulders. The dark mascara under her blue eyes gave her a dangerously seductive appearance that contrasted with her resting bitch face. But despite their visual differences, the pair had a similar smattering of freckles across their cheeks. They also shared a nonchalant and – especially in Lola’s case – gleeful interest in doing bad things.

Pulling her henchwomen aside, making sure they were well out of range of anyone hearing them, Baroness dispensed her orders. “Azula’s decided that slow and steady is the answer,” she relayed. “She thinks it’s the safest choice for the majority of the group. Too bad for the individuals. Find a non-combatant, discreetly. Preferably one that won’t be missed. If the group is to survive, we’ll need a way to keep the horrors at our heels at bay. A well-baited distraction should do nicely.”

The pair nodded their understanding and moved out. Baroness returned to Azula, to see where they were going.


Minako Aino made her way through the group of survivors, slowly, checking faces. She’d been so relieved when she’d been briefly reunited with Makoto, happy to see a familiar face even if neither of them had retained their Sailor Scout abilities. But she’d not seen Makoto since before the Bunker attack. There’d been too much chaos to say for sure that her friend hadn’t made it, but she didn’t like the odds. Still, she kept on searching, hoping that Makoto had just been separated enough that they’d simply not spotted each other yet.

“Looking for someone?”

Minako turned to see Nena and her tall counterpart. She’d seen the pair around the Bunker before, always on the move. She didn’t like the blonde much – something creepy in her eyes – but Nena had seemed friendly enough in passing. “My friend, Makoto,” she answered. “I haven’t seen her since the Bunker.”

Nena shared a look with Lola. The women knew exactly what had happened to Makoto. They’d been the ones tasked with making sure she got to Bathory’s lab without incident. Passing that information along to Minako didn’t seem like a wise choice, so Nena spun up a lie. “You know, I think I actually saw her a little while ago.”

“Really?” Minako said, hope in her eyes.

Nena nodded. “Isn’t that right, Lola?”

“Yep,” she agreed, offering Minako the friendliest smile she could manage. It still looked pretty predatory, but Minako was too distracted by the possibility of finding Makoto to notice.

“Can you take me to her?” the neutered Sailor Scout asked.

“Of course,” Nena said with a smile, sidling up next to Minako and hooking an arm through hers. “We’re here to help.”


The moment they were far enough away from the rest of the survivors, Lola cracked the butt of her machine pistol across the back of Minako’s head. The long-haired blonde let out a yelp of pain, collapsing into Nena’s waiting arms. Scooping her up, Nena slung the young woman over her shoulder. “This one’s as naïve as her friend was,” she muttered as she continued along.

“Hey, she was right to trust us,” Lola shot back. “We are technically going to reunite her with the other one. In death.”

The pair shared a laugh, making their way further from the group. They started out in the direction of the Bunker before cutting into a parallel route, moving to avoid any notice from the city’s myriad of monsters. When they got far enough out that Minako would work effectively as a means of leading the horde away from the others, they went to work setting up their bait.

Dumping Minako onto the street, Nena and Lola quickly stripped the young woman down to nothing. As Nena shredded Minako’s clothes, fashioning them into makeshift bindings, Lola eyed the naked flesh before her. She dragged her tongue across the bottom of her teeth, resisting the urge – for the moment – to reach out and tickle her fingers through the wild patch of blonde pubes just above Minako’s slit. Nena finished with the bindings and they pulled their victim up, carrying her to a nearby bench. Minako groaned as they pulled her arms and legs apart, stretching her as they tied her down to the bench in about as vulnerable a pose as possible.

Lola shoved the tattered remnants of Minako’s panties into the girl’s mouth. Nena tore off a few strips of duct tape and pressed them across Minako’s lips, trapping the gag in her mouth. Minako gagged on the fabric hard enough to rouse herself back to consciousness. Her eyes snapped open, confused at first but quickly shifting to terror as she looked up at her abductors. She whined into her gag, tugging at the shredded lengths of her clothing. Minako’s minimal muscles flexed, trying to squirm free of her bondage but finding the knots too tight and her range of movement too limited to make any real progress.

Watching the young woman struggling only stirred Lola’s lust more. “We should make sure this bait is nice and juicy,” she purred, moving closer to Minako. Crouching in front of her, she stared into the girl’s wide eyes, drinking in her fear. Her hands moved to Minako’s chest, clutching at her pert breasts. Her thumbs rolled across the girl’s pink nipples, teasing them to stiffness. “Bad news, baby,” she told Minako, letting one hand drop down to her crotch. She tickled the girl’s pubic hair, making good on her initial urge, before moving lower to feel the folds of her cunt. “We finally found a perfect use for you.” She shoved her middle finger up Minako’s snatch, drawing a muffled whine from her.

Lola lowered her head to Minako’s chest, sucking a nipple into her mouth before closing her teeth around the nub. She bit down hard enough to draw an almost impressive yelp from her. Adding a second finger into the girl’s pussy, she pumped her digits swiftly. Looking back into Minako’s tear-filled eyes, Lola moved in closer. “Oh, and about your friend, Makkie,” she purred, leaning in to drag her tongue slowly up Minako’s cheek. “She was dead before those dead fucks even started their attack.” She made sure to catch the look on the blonde’s face as she heard her friend was dead. Her eyes lit up, predatory smile firmly in place as her hand worked harder at Minako’s cunt, getting her wet despite the horrified sadness overwhelming her.

“C’mon, Lola,” Nena pressed. “We can’t hang around here all night.”

“Just a sec,” Lola countered as she remembered what the girl had claimed she’d been back in her real world. “I’ve just gotta finish conquering Venus’s mound over here.” She moved down, burying her face against Minako’s snatch. Her tongue dove deep into her folds, lapping at her juices before moving up to lock her lips around her clit. She gave it a hard suck, flapping her tongue across the bundle of sensitive nerves until Minako was quivering through an unwanted climax. Leaning back, Lola licked her lips clean and got to her feet. “Your sacrifice is appreciated, honey,” she remarked, wiping her sticky fingers clean on Minako’s hair.

Nena fired off a round from her weapon into the air. The gunshot echoed off the walls of the nearby buildings, ensuring that the undead would be drawn to the location. With their task completed, the pair hurried back the way they’d come, not wanting to stick around and risk becoming part of the distraction.

Tears flowed freely down Minako’s cheeks. Her life had been far from pleasant since arriving in the Necropolis, but it had taken so many terrible turns so quickly that her mind struggled to process it all. The pounding in her head from the blow she’d taken didn’t help. Makoto was dead. She’d been sacrificed and trussed up as bait. Sexually assaulted. Left to be zombie chow. She resumed her struggles, desperately trying to work her way free of the bindings Nena had used to tie her to the bench. Her legs ached from the extreme split they’d been forced to maintain. The panties stuffing her mouth became a soggy, saliva-soaked lump of fabric. She wanted to push it free, but the tape kept the underwear in place. She let out a miserable whine as she heard the moan of the first zombie. Turning her head, she saw a sizable group of the things shuffling down the street towards her.

Without the Child’s psychic link, the zombies thought nothing of the convenience of the treat that had been left for them. The first undead man that reached her was drawn to her wet cunt, sheathing his rotting prick inside of the girl. Minako screamed into her gag as she was violated, jerking from side to side but remaining trapped. Her perky breasts jiggled, providing an entertaining show for the dead man raping her. As more of the zombies converged on her, the young blonde found herself the target of even more rancid cocks. They dragged across her flesh, smacked at her flexing fingers, prodded at her tits. One zombie grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back as he looped the hair around his erection, using it as a makeshift masturbatory aid.

Minako’s pussy grew more slick as the undead came into her, leaving her leaking their gooey deposits onto the bench. She shrieked into her gag as one of the living dead sank his teeth into her forearm, ripping away a bloody chunk of meat. Another buried his face against her chest, chomping down on the same nipple Lola had bitten. The zombie chewed with a good deal more enthusiasm, ripping the nub away and swallowing it down. The zombies consumed Minako in small pieces, far more focused on raping the young woman.

With a sharp rip, an undead man managed to peel away the tape covering Minako’s mouth. Before she could shove the wadded up panties out and let loose with a proper scream, the zombie wedged his cock past her lips. The blonde’s eyes bulged as he fucked against her face, forcing the gag further down her throat. The drool-soaked fabric became lodged halfway down her esophagus. She strained to swallow it, but it was too thick and too sticky to manage it. Her eyes bulged, bloodshot and filled with horror, as she stared up at the zombie fucking her face. Her partially eaten and thoroughly fucked body flailed as wildly as it could within her bondage as she choked on her panties.

Minako’s face shifted to a deep red, sweat pouring out of her. Her eyes rolled back, struggles slackening into spastic shudders. As the darkness of death consumed her, she felt the teeth of a zombie start to chew at her cum-stuffed cunt, tearing chunks of sensitive flesh away. The zombie was undeterred by the sudden burst of piss that sprayed across his face as he dined on the young woman’s sex, moving in to chew free a bigger bite to satisfy his hunger. The zombie fucking Minako’s face clutched her head close against his crotch as he came down her clogged throat, leaving the wadded-up panties even more soaked in fluids.


Nena and Lola made it back to the group, making their way to where Azula was finishing up the route they’d be taking. Nena gave Baroness a subtle nod, unseen by the others, that told their commander that the task had been completed.

“We can’t stay here much longer,” Nena shared. “We just double-backed to check and the horde’s headed this way.” The lie passed smoothly from her lips. The Baroness had made sure to impart the importance of getting the group moving after Minako’s sacrifice. They couldn’t afford letting anyone notice the girl’s absence too soon.

“We’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” Azula decided, turning to the others. “Get everyone ready to move.”


Rumors of the horde’s pursuit kept the sizeable group of survivors moving quickly. Even those that hadn’t been on the frontline of the Bunker assault were terrified of the prospect of being caught out in the open by the creatures actively hunting them. The panic only grew stronger when Minako’s disappearance was discovered. Whether the girl had simply wandered off or been picked off by one of the hellish monsters infesting the Necropolis, it didn’t matter. It was just another reminder that death could come for them at any moment. Fear was an excellent motivator. The group stuck close to one another as they made their way towards the shopping mall. No one dared to raise the concern of their lack of supplies.

But the panicked haste came at a cost. It was ironic, given that Azula had chosen the slower, less direct path to the airport. When the group came upon the large pack of zombies in their way, they lacked any cohesion. Chaos erupted. Lives were lost.

The revelation that they faced not only zombies, but some of the Necropolis’s deadlier creations became evident before Azula could rally any form of defense.

Given that the world she’d come from had also been infested with the living dead, the zombies didn’t bother Slack much. She’d gotten rather good at killing them even before being snatched into the Necropolis. As the survivors around her struggled to come up with a plan of action, she drew her pistol and started popping the zombies, blasting their rotting brains from their skulls. She stepped forward, out of the group, advancing on the nightmare creatures and unintentionally making herself a prime target.

The Head Snatcher’s pointed tongue punched through Slack’s temple, erupting from the opposite side of her head. Her finger twitched around the trigger of her pistol, firing off one more shot that plopped pointlessly into a zombie’s chest. Her eyes crossed, mouth falling slack. The gun dropped from her hand, hitting the ground and going off. The wild shot put a hole through Lucy Heartfilia’s thigh. Tendons and bones snapped as the Head Snatcher retracted its tongue, tearing Slack’s head away. Piss gushed into the crotch of her black leather shorts and flowed along her fishnet-clad thighs. Her body dropped forward, landing hard on her full breasts as her arms jerked about, clawing at the air and digging her fingernails against the asphalt.

Letty Ortiz let out an angry yell as a Blow Hunter dropped in front of her and pulled her into his deadly embrace. She beat her fists against the thing as he tore his way through the crotch of her jeans and buried his members into her cunt and ass. Her tough edge cracked as she was rapidly violated, calling out for help. The survivors nearest to her were already backing away. Even with only rumors to enlighten them to the nature of the Blow Hunters, they knew to put distance between themselves and the creature assaulting Letty. Her clenched fists pounded against the Blow Hunter’s fleshy exterior as the monster’s cocks pounded into her loins. She reflexively clenched around the probing phalluses, unwillingly assisting the creature’s approach to a deadly climax.

“Get this thing the fuck off of – “ Letty’s final plea for assistance cut off as the Blow Hunter came. Spikes ripped through the Latina’s body, piercing the soft flesh of her breasts and crunching through her ribs. One spike rammed its way into her throat, barely avoiding her spine as it made its way through her. Her kicking legs became pinned against the bloating monster’s flesh. One spike managed to meet Letty’s last punch, spearing through her knuckles and emerging from her wrist. She was left choking on her hot blood for only a few moments before the Blow Hunter concluded his life, ripping himself and Letty apart in a violent explosion of cum and blood.

Azula and Baroness managed to shift the group’s formation, creating a defensive front. The horde was smaller than the one pursuing them, but it was still big enough to be a danger – Slack and Letty’s deaths being two prime pieces of evidence to that. Thankfully, the group of monsters wasn’t blocking their path to the hopeful safety of the mall. Azula made it clear that they weren’t going to engage in a standup fight. They only had to keep the mini-horde at bay while the bulk of the survivors made it to the mall. The panic faded – but only slightly – as the group fell into line and responded to their loss by taking out as many of the monsters as they could.

Sonya Blade and Sharon Carter led the group towards the mall, clearing out the handful of zombies in their way. Saeko Busujima and Setsuka were put in charge of covering the group’s rear, holding off the mini-horde while the others could make their escape. It was just the sort of action Saeko had been looking forward to for what felt like months. Her muramasa felt light in her hands, growing lighter with each undead form she cleaved through. Her breath quickened with each successful strike. The blood, the carnage, the death. It gave her a very special kind of thrill. The kind that dampened her panties. And as Saeko slashed and sliced her way through one zombie after the next, her panties were soaked in no time.

Setsuka did her best to lend as much assistance as she could, both in terms of killing monsters as well as in keeping Saeko focused. But as the purple-haired young woman’s bloodlust grew, even Setsuka’s rational words couldn’t get through. Saeko panted openly, sweat dribbling from her brow as she advanced into the diminishing ranks of the undead. Each cut of her sword felt like a direct jolt of ecstasy right to her clit. The sensation was dangerously addictive. She didn’t want it to stop. Her interests shifted to carving as many zombies as she could as quickly as she could, neglecting to confirm each one was dead before moving on to the next.

The woman’s forward momentum came to a momentary stop as she faced down a particular large cluster of zombies. One of Saeko’s undead victims – cleaved in half at the waist – had been pulling himself along towards the woman. The pause in her movement was long enough for him to catch up to her. His rotten fingers closed around her calf, tugging himself forward just far enough to bury his teeth in her ankle. Saeko cried out – a blend of orgasmic release and shocked pain. She yanked her leg away from the half-zombie and brought her sword down into the thing’s head. Her attacker was dead – properly so – but the hot blood flowing down Saeko’s ankle told her that she’d soon be, too.

Setsuka moved forward fast, taking out another zombie as she reached Saeko. She silently cursed herself for not spotting the crawler in time. “Maybe we can amputate it,” she suggested. “Before the infection spreads.”

“No,” Saeko panted, feeling a fresh surge of arousal now that she knew she’d soon be gone. “Get back to the group.” She tightened her grip on her weapon. “I’ll hold them back as long as I can.” There was little nobility in her choice. She’d only just gotten to start enjoying herself. She’d be damned if she was going to let the warm, blissful feelings go. The survivors would not allow her to live if she returned to them. A quick shot to the head would have minimized the pain of death, but it would steal the thrill of it from her. And Saeko wanted that thrill more than anything else.

Setsuka nodded her apparent understanding, although the words that followed made it clear that she didn’t. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” she told Saeko. “You are a true warrior.” She turned and hurried back towards the retreating group, leaving Saeko to her fate.

Saeko turned to face the oncoming undead. She let out a yell of challenge, drawing the attention of the zombies to her, and charged into them. Her sword moved with blinding speed, dicing up the living corpses with shocking efficiency. Saeko moaned with each swipe, her lust fueling her actions. The ecstasy built within her, aided by the infection that would claim her life. Her flesh flushed, unashamed of her arousal, but surprised by the apparent lack of limit it had. Her sloppy cunt burned, aching to be filled with something. Perhaps it was the erotic frenzy of her mind, or maybe just the infection taking hold of her, but Saeko suddenly realized that she wanted to do something else to the zombies besides slaughtering them.

Yanking the blade free from her latest conquest’s chest, she shoved the undead man to the ground. His brain was still intact, leaving him alive, but – more importantly – so was his cock. Dropping onto him, Saeko pulled up the flap of her apron and tugged aside the crotch of her soaked panties. She gripped the dead man’s shaft, holding it steady as she rammed her burning snatch onto him. She cried out, finally finding a small amount of relief as she was filled. The first orgasm was nice, but Saeko was more interested in seeing just how many she could achieve before death claimed her. She slammed her crotch against the zombie, riding him with wild energy. Her hands moved to her chest, yanking open her shirt. Buttons went flying as her breasts spilled free.

Saeko pushed one hand against her undead lover’s shoulder, holding his gnashing teeth at bay as she shook her tits at him. Her other hand moved downwards, slipping under the front of her panties to wiggle her clit. A second zombie took notice of the change in Saeko’s attitude. He lumbered up behind the young woman, tearing away the rear portion of her apron like pealing off a sticky note. Saeko’s jiggling buttocks – flesh rippling with each downward stroke she made onto her zombie lover’s prick – mesmerized the second zombie. He crouched in close behind her, tearing through her panties so he could take aim at her tight asshole.

Saeko whimpered as the undead cock pressed against her sphincter, groaned as the zombie plunged up her rear. She shifted her movements, helping to work the anal invader deeper into her. Her cunt walls clenched and released around the prick buried so deep inside her. When the next pair of zombies approached, she reached out to pull their erections free, pumping along their shafts and leaning in so she could lap at their cockheads. When one of the zombies moved close enough, she allowed him to slide his member through her cleavage, pushing her milky mounds of flesh together around him.

If anything, Saeko made a better distraction after she’d given in to her sexual urges. The insatiable, infected sex addict drew the undead towards her, each of them eager to stuff the young woman’s holes before the warmth of life left them completely. Saeko gave herself freely to the bliss consuming her, hardly noticing as it became hard for her to breathe. The cascade of orgasms ripping through her kept her pleasantly distracted from the end of her life. When the infection finally claimed her, her gyrations only paused momentarily before her milky eyes snapped open with renewed, evil existence. She shoved her face onto another stiff prick, sucking at it until she got her first meal as a member of the undead.

Saeko’s zombie lovers found satisfaction long before she did. Gradually, the memory that they’d been pursuing a much larger group returned. With Saeko no longer a threat, they began to shuffle away from her, heading towards the mall. Quite dead but still achingly horny, Saeko let out a groan of dismay as the zombies left her. She awkwardly got to her feet, joining the ranks of the Undead. Only the briefest flickers of memory inspired her to reach down and grab her discarded sword.


It was a relief to find that the interior of the mall wasn’t as badly infested as the exterior. Sealing the entryway behind them, the survivors spread out to secure the ground floor. The unexpected ambush had everyone rattled. There’d been a sense – perhaps a desperate hope – that the majority of the city’s undead monster population had been present during the assault on the Bunker. The group of creatures they’d blundered into was big enough to instill fresh fear in the survivors.

Fear may have been an excellent motivator, but it was also capable of freezing the group in place. Azula couldn’t afford to allow that to happen. She gathered Baroness and went about setting up a party of forward scouts. A smaller party moving ahead of the main group would make it far easier to avoid future surprises. They’d drawn attention getting into the mall. The mini-horde they’d left behind had suffered losses, but they were still a threat – especially if reinforcements came. Still, the mall afforded them a unique opportunity to restock much needed supplies, both for the journey to the airport and potentially in the world beyond if they managed to make it that far.

The question was: Could they afford to spend the time exploring the mall?


The longer Jack remained in charge, the less she liked it. Case in point: While Ellie and Tron worked to fix the generator, it seemed like a logical thing to let the rest of the group get some much needed rest. But while the others managed to at least find someplace reasonably comfortable to sit or lay down – and a few even managed to nod off for some precious moments of sleep – Jack remained awake, alert, and pacing anxiously from one end of the generator room to the next. Self-preservation was only one of the things motivating her. The concern for her group – and keeping them safe – was even stronger.

It’s stupid, she told herself as she paced. I’m better off without them. They’re better off without me. I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.

Before Jack could convince herself to bolt and leave the group to whatever fate awaited them, Ellie came to inform her that they’d managed to get the generator operational.

“Should we turn it on?” Ellie asked.

“Let’s get everyone on their feet first,” Jack replied. That’s a good idea, right? That’s what a leader would say? She had no idea, but if the generator brought a mass of death down on their heads, it would be better to have everyone awake first. Making the rounds, she got her small party together. When they were as ready as they could be, Jack gave the order to flip the generator on.

The old machine rumbled to life. A moment later, the overhead lights clicked on. More than a few of the group jumped from the sudden illumination. Jack’s heart leapt halfway up her throat, but she managed to maintain a passive outward appearance. The nearby computer terminal clicked on, whirring its way through the bootup process. Jack directed Tron to the computer to see if it had any useful information. For some reason, Quorra had found a great deal of amusement in Tron’s name, but she’d not elaborated on what was so funny.

That’s a shame, Jack thought. We could all do with a good laugh right now.

The computer contained a vast array of maintenance reports, control systems for various points within the sewer – too complicated to dare mess with, and – like a glorious bounty – a detailed map of the sewer system’s layout. It was easy enough to see where they were in the maze of tunnels, and even where they’d come in, but as Jack stared at the overlay, she realized she had no idea where they should go. There were plenty of options for getting out of the sewer, but no guarantee that anywhere would be safe.

“Look,” Ada spoke up, pointing to one section of the map. “There’s an outlet near the bridge.”

“So?” Joy asked. The tone of her voice made Jack want to punch her. She resisted the urge.

“Just before everything went to hell at the Bunker, I heard a report from the scouts,” she elaborated. “I didn’t catch the whole thing, but I heard them mention the bridge. That it might be a way out of the city.”

Jack was more thankful for the information than she’d ever let on. She’d been a leader in search of a plan. Now she had one. “Then that’s where we’re going.” She looked from where they were to the outlet, the weaving path that would lead them there. “Uh… anyone got like a piece of paper or something? We’re gonna have to copy this down so we don’t get lost.”

“I have a better idea,” Quorra said, stepping forward and unclipping the disc from her back. She held the disc up to the computer’s monitor, the edges glowing a pale blue. The computer screen flickered, went off for an instant, then returned to normal. Quorra pulled her disc back and held it before her. The glowing ring brightened, broadcasting a holographic copy of the map they’d been looking at.

Jack briefly tried to comprehend what Quorra’s disc was and how it worked, but promptly decided that it didn’t matter. “Works for me. Let’s head out.”


The most direct path to the bridge led the survivors to a drainage basin. Before the generator had been restored, the sewage had been waist high. The water pump had come on with the power, draining away the majority of the sewage to be processed deeper within the sewer system. As the team opened the door and climbed down into the basin, they heard an echoey slap of meat against cement. It wasn’t rhythmic enough to be a machine. Jack took point, shotgun at the ready, as they made their way through the basin. A gentle curve led them towards the other side of the area where they’d be able to leave.

Just beyond the curve, they found the source of the sound.

“Is that a…” Dot started, too surprised to finish her sentence.

“A fucking mermaid,” Jack finished for her.

The half-woman, half-fish looked young. Her long red hair flowed down her smooth backside, pert breasts covered by a set of oversized sea shells. She lifted her head and let out an irate growl, revealing her zombified state. Ariel beat her long fish tail against the soggy floor, stretching her skinny arms out towards the survivors. She hissed and snapped her teeth at them, eager to sink into their warm, living flesh.

“This place just keeps getting worse,” Ellie muttered.

“Good thing we got that generator working,” Joy remarked. “Wouldn’t want to have run into this ugly bitch if she had water to swim in.”

“It’s not her fault,” Kara scorned, giving Joy a glare. “She didn’t ask to be here any more than we did.”

Jack didn’t want to compare herself to Joy in any respect, but she found herself siding more with the redneck. “Can’t do anything for her now,” she concluded. “Except put her out of her misery.” She nodded to Parasoul. “Fry her.”

Parasoul nodded and leveled her umbrella at Ariel’s flopping form. An eruption of fire shot forth from the unorthodox weapon, engulfing the mermaid. Her gyrations became wild, growling and hissing as her flesh charred. The pungent stench of burning sewage and overcooked fish filled the air, causing a number of the women to gag as they inched around the burning mermaid.

They’d gotten very lucky. Jack suspected that luck wouldn’t hold out forever.


The Bunker’s destruction had nearly brought a lethal dose of rubble down on Samus Aran’s head. Her hope that Bathory’s playthings hadn’t been so lucky was dashed almost immediately as she heard their incessant moans echoing up the tunnel behind her. Her body ached. She felt disgusting. But she was still alive. She intended to remain that way. Unarmed, partially disrobed, and lost in the depths of the tunnels, the odds weren’t in her favor. But she’d managed to escape the clutches of the undead once, reasonably no worse for wear. The prospect of fighting off the remainder of Bathory’s test subjects with only her fists didn’t appeal to her, but she’d do what was necessary.

That necessity nearly became a reality as Samus reached a sealed door. There’d been no offshoots in the tunnel, no alternate paths. She tried to force the door open only to find it sealed tight. She could hear the moans of the zombies closing in behind her. Turning to face her almost certain death, Samus caught sight of a glowing light. Inspecting it closer, she saw it was a panel for the door. She tapped at it, triggering the door to pop open. Thankful that whatever power system was in place underground still worked, she ducked through the door and smacked at the panel on the other side to close the threshold behind her.

Leaning back against the door, Samus held her face in her hands. She needed a moment to catch her breath, let the adrenaline rushing through her veins calm down. When she felt ready, she moved away from the door towards a nearby intersection of tunnels. The design looked different to the tunnels she’d been in previously. And the smell was far worse. The reeking aroma wasn’t death – or at least, not just death – but more like bodily waste. Some kind of sewer system perhaps.

Before Samus could investigate further, she reached the intersection. She let out a startled yelp as she suddenly found herself facing a ragtag group of survivors. Shock became relief as she recognized some of the faces before her. “Jack,” she gasped. “I never thought I’d be this happy to see you.” Her relief shifted to confused worry as she watched Jack, Ada, and Parasoul level their weapons at her. “I’m alive, dammit!”

Jack nodded towards the state of Samus’s clothing. “Looks like you’ve had a run in with something down here. And we’ve all seen what happens when some gets bit by one of those undead fucks.”

Samus’s jaw firmed. “Except I wasn’t,” she replied firmly. She extended her arms to her sides, turning in place. “Go on, inspect me. See for yourselves. If I’d been bitten, I’d have turned by now.”

Jack once again found herself irritated by her leadership role. She couldn’t see any signs of bites on Samus. And the undead weren’t prone to subterfuge. They weren’t clever enough for it. Still, the dried cum on Samus’s thighs was a clear indicator that she’d had some very intimate contact with something not so long ago. The choice rested on her shoulders whether or not to trust the bounty hunter.


Domino came tumbling into the Necropolis. The backs of her shoulders hit the ground at about the midpoint of the arena’s field before flipping backwards and landing far more gracefully than her entrance. She panted, glancing around to take in her new surroundings. The unexpected trip had caught her just as off guard as any of the other survivors that had been pulled into the nightmare, but Domino had grown accustomed to odd things happening to her. She’d learned to quite literally roll with the punches and let her innate luck help her out of situations.

Appearing from out of nowhere into what appeared to be an abandoned sports arena certainly ranked high on her list of weird shit that had happened to her. If she wanted to find out what was going on – and she did – she’d have to find someone with answers. Picking a direction at random, Domino made her way off the field. She found a hall leading into the arena and followed it to a nearby locker room. She slipped inside and let the door slide closed behind her. A wet chewing sound could be heard deeper into the locker room, drawing Domino closer to investigate.

A group of what looked like demonic football players were gathered around the corpse of a woman. Domino had no way of knowing the woman had been Sarah Connor, simply because she didn’t even know of her existence, but also because there wasn’t enough left of her to identify. The unexpected sight drew a surprised gasp from Domino’s lips. It was soft, but not soft enough. The Linebackers reacted to the presence of a new victim, turning their heads towards her. Their heads – and a portion of their chest – were made up almost entirely of hardened, off-white bone. Their beady eyes looked more like little black specks, but she figured they could see well enough. A set of two-pronged mandibles stretched from the sides of their faces across their mouths, giving their heads the appearance of some kind of sickening football helmet.

Domino picked up on the fact that she wasn’t all too welcome in the locker room. She backed slowly away from the Linebackers, planning on slipping back through the door and hoping it held up long enough for her to make a proper retreat. Her plan was almost immediately ruined as another Linebacker – one who’d not been a part of the main group – rammed his way into a row of lockers. Metal screeched as the lockers shot forward, blocking the door Domino had come through and effectively sealing her within the room. Drawing her sidearm, she took aim at the creature, but he ducked back behind another row of lockers before she could get a shot off.

The pale-skinned mutant spun back towards the rest of the Linebackers to see them darting away from the heavily chewed corpse, ducking behind lockers out of sight. The uneasiness she’d felt upon entering the world built. Her eyes darted from left to right, weapon at the ready. She knew when she was being hunted, and in that moment, she was very much being hunted. Maybe even toyed with. She’d never seen anything like the creatures before. She wasn’t sure if they were even human. Some kind of mutant. Something worse. Probably something worse. Regardless of what they were, Domino had no intention of winding up as their dessert.

The Linebackers occasionally darted back into her line of sight. Domino fired off a few rounds each time, groaning as the bullets chipped away at their heavily boned exterior but did little else. They forced her to move, repositioning to stay out of their clutches. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew the only reason they’d not caught her yet was because they were herding her. Whatever the things were, they had some degree of cleverness. Each shot she took, she hoped her luck would lend some assistance to her aim, find a way through their armored shells. Each time, her luck failed her. Her limited ammunition diminished further and further. Things were not looking good.

And suddenly they looked even worse as Domino found herself backed into a literal corner. She’d been aware of what the Linebackers were doing from the start, but it hadn’t stopped them from succeeding in their plans. She could see them closing in on her from both sides, moving slow, savoring their catch. She hoped that would be their downfall, firing off several more shots in either direction. She aimed – carefully even – but couldn’t find a soft enough spot to really do any damage. Her shots didn’t spur them to speed their movements. It was as if they knew she couldn’t hurt them. When her gun clicked empty, Domino realized they’d been right.

“Clever boys,” she muttered, not giving up but uncomfortably aware of her lack of options.

The Linebackers closed in, preparing to pounce and tear Domino to shreds. She was on the verge of believe that her luck had finally run out. Then the wall behind her swirled open. She let out a startled yelp as she fell back, narrowly avoiding the trajectory of the rocket shooting through the freshly made hole. The explosive nailed the lead Linebacker dead on, ripping through his tough exterior and blowing his charred chunks across the Linebacker just behind him. Domino didn’t question the unexpected and baffling good fortune – she’d given up on doing that years ago. She simply rolled to her feet and darted through the escape hatch that had formed in the wall.

Fuuka ushered the newcomer over, leading her back to Homura. The sullen-faced young woman didn’t seem nearly as happy to see Domino as Domino was her. Given the immediately hostile environment she’d entered, she was glad to see anyone who wasn’t trying to kill her. The Scout Party seemed experienced and capable. Good new friends to make. Domino could sort out the bizarre fact that one of them appeared to have the still-living severed head of a woman tied to her belt later. There were monsters to kill. Homura slid a sniper rifle free from her shield and tossed it to Domino. Domino accepted the weapon, filed yet another absurdity in the back of her head, and readied up.

With the death of their Alpha, the four remaining Linebackers lost some degree of cohesion. They charged through the hole in the wall, rushing down Domino and the scouts. It was a bold attack, reckless for sure, but still potentially lethal. But while the Linebackers lost their ability to work as a team, the survivors worked with near perfect unity.

As the first Linebacker closed in, Homura reached out to snare Izumi’s wrist. She exerted her ability to bring time itself to a stop around them. A simple nod was all Homura needed to give to spur Izumi to action. Reaching down, Izumi transmuted a chunk of floor, drawing a long, jagged length of it into her hand. She cocked the alchemically fashioned spear back, looked over the frozen Linebacker until she spotted a soft spot, and threw her weapon. Homura dropped her timestop the moment the spear left Izumi’s grip, letting the jagged length of cement fly. The Linebacker jumped forward, meeting the spear head on. The pointed tip struck true, ripping through the creature and leaving it stumbling into a dead heap before it even knew what happened.

Renamon launched into the air, unleashing a powerful wave of Diamond Storm into the backside of another Linebacker. The force of the attack wasn’t enough to break through the tough bone armor, but it did pin the creature to the ground. Alice yanked the pins free on a number of grenades and heaved them under the pinned Linebacker. The grenades blew, ripping out the guts of the monster and launching it several feet into the air. Its bloody, eviscerated carcass dropped back to the floor as a twitching corpse.

With a little bit of distance and a finely tuned weapon in her hands, Domino was able to line up a perfect shot at one of the two remaining Linebackers. She squeezed the trigger calmly, absorbing the recoil of the weapon as it bucked within her grip. The high velocity round nailed the Linebacker through one of its beady eyes, bouncing wildly within its heavily armored skull and turning its brain into mush. The creature’s legs gave out, dropping to the floor and skidding forward as a frantic series of death twitches ran through its nervous system.

The final Linebacker came to a skidding stop, realizing that the rest of its pack had been taken out with a speedy efficiency. Seeing that the odds were no longer in its favor, the monster turned and rushed back through the hole, perhaps hoping that the locker room would provide it some much needed safety. With her renewed faith in her inherit luck, Domino tracked the creature back through the hole in the wall and tried to predict where it was going. Just before she fired off a second shot, Fuuka reached down to adjust her aim slightly. She knew nothing of Fuuka’s ability to detect the creatures, but she trusted the young woman’s adjustment.

Domino fired. The armor-piercing round punched through the cinder block wall, a locker, and finally the remaining Linebacker’s torso. Only a thorough examination – or an X-ray machine – would reveal that the bullet had pierced the Linebacker’s black, rotten heart. The specifics of the perfect shot were unnecessary. The result was easy enough to observe as the creature slumped dead within the locker room. Not that Domino could see the result of her shot. She glanced to Fuuka. The woman gave her a nod of confirmation. Domino figured that was good enough.

Once the threat of the Linebackers was confirmed neutralized, Alice greeted Domino. She got the general update on what had happened to her and where she was. Even the broad strokes of her situation left her feeling nervous. She didn’t want to imagine what the detailed synopsis would lead to, but she figured she’d find out sooner than later. Once all of that was said and done, Alice extended an invitation to join her group.

“Oh, fuck yes, I want to do that,” Domino nodded. Her brain ached from the sheer nonsense she’d been forced into, but sticking with Alice and her crew felt right. She didn’t know if she could trust her luck in this bizarre new world, but she had no idea how to not go with her gut. And her gut said she needed to stay as close to Alice and the others as possible. She could only hope that it wouldn’t lead to having her guts ripped out.


The shuffling bags of rotting flesh that had been Bathory’s personal playthings weren’t capable of much in the way of thought, but they had enough working brain cells between them to think of Samus Aran as The Morsel That Kept Getting Away. Her initial escape from their clutches had been an annoyance. Her second escape sent them into a ravenous rage, growling and swiping at anything in their path. Each other, the apparent wall Samus had disappeared through, whatever they could get their curled fingers against.

Emily Kaldwin’s head twisted towards a glowing light. Her lips pulled back, baring her slightly parted teeth. She let out a wet growl, drawing forth a glob of bloody saliva that drizzled across her pale, perky tits. She stumbled towards the light, drawn to it like a moth. Her hands clamped against the sides of the control panel, staring at the array of glowing buttons before her. She leaned over, spattering more of her drool across the panel before stretching her mouth open wide to start chewing at the buttons protruding from it. The cold metal and plastic failed to satisfy the burning hunger in her gut. She bit harder on the buttons, trying to find the source of the radiance. When that didn’t work, she pulled her head back and butted her forehead into the panel with a frustrated hiss. Pure chance allowed her head to connect with the button that activated the door Samus had gone through.

The path into the sewers was open to Bathory’s toys.


A thousand things ran through Jack’s head. The pros, the cons, the risks. Executing Samus might have been the safest bet, but it felt like the fear response. Jack wasn’t a fan of letting fear dictate her actions. Thinking beyond the knee-jerk reaction brought up more pros than cons. It was clear she’d not been bitten. They needed all the help they could get, and Samus would make for some very valuable help. If she started to show signs of being sick, turning, they could always take her out later. In the end, Jack’s desperate selfishness tipped the scales. I never wanted to be in charge anyway, she thought. Samus could take over, if she lives long enough for the others to trust her.

Jack lowered her weapon, let out a sigh. “Put them down,” she ordered the others. “Shit’s bad, but we’re not gonna start wasting each other out of fear. Not on my watch.” Which’ll hopefully be over soon. She leveled a particularly nasty glare at Joy. And fuck, if we’re gonna start bumping people off, there’s far better targets to pick.

With the tense situation resolved, Tron knelt and started to rummage through the pack of supplies she’d been carrying. She’d picked up a few spare sets of clothing from Anna’s shop. Given the tendency towards aggressive wardrobe malfunctions within the Necropolis, it had seemed like a good idea. She came up with a vibrant orange sports bra with matching running shorts. She handed them over to Samus.

Samus took the clothes. She pulled the top over her head and went about the daunting task of squeezing her full breasts into the confining garment. “I remember seeing this outfit in Anna’s shop,” she remarked as she mashed her tits together and worked them up under the bottom of the sports bra. Her flesh compressed within the top, mounds held firmly in place.

Tron nodded. “You wouldn’t believe how cheap it was,” she remarked. A smug smirk filled her face as Samus worked to tug the shorts up her long legs. “I stole it.”

Samus wasn’t a fan of theft, as a rule, but she wasn’t about to turn down the clothing on principle. She pulled the running shorts into place, feeling some small comfort that her genitals were at least marginally protected – at least concealed – again. Granted, the tight-fitting outfit wasn’t leaving much to the imagination regardless. The tattered remnants of her zero suit covering the majority of her arms and legs made for an interesting contrast of colors. She could still feel the disgusting filth of her rape, but the clothing helped, as did finding allies.

“So,” she asked, looking to Jack. The tattooed woman hadn’t struck her as much of a leader, but it was clear she was in charge of the group. “What’s the plan?”

Before Jack could respond, she spotted movement from behind Samus. “Down!” she yelled, bringing her shotgun back up. Samus dropped into a crouch without hesitation, revealing the snarling face of Melissa Marr. The undead blonde lunged towards Samus. Jack fired her weapon, catching Melissa full in the face. Her head exploded, showering blood and chunks of brain across the walls as her nude form flipped backwards. Her legs kicked about wildly for a few moments before slumping apart. Samus rolled forward, entering the group of survivors and putting her out of range of the rest of Bathory’s playthings as they surged down the hall.

Melissa had been eager, slightly faster than the others. It had made her an easy target. The rest of Bathory’s toys came as a group. In the tight confines of the hall, things got hectic and far more dangerous. The group of survivors backed their way down the hall, keeping distance between themselves and the advancing undead. Taki snared Machete’s right arm and yanked the short Mexican away from the pack, giving Samus a clear shot at moving in to get some payback. Gripping the side of his neck firmly, she slammed his head into the wall hard enough to open up a gouge across his temple. The second slam cracked his skull and ended his undead life.

A blast of buckshot from Jack’s shotgun ripped up Rita Bennet’s guts and sent her down onto her hands and knees. Joy was quick to step forward and smash her frying pan across the back of the woman’s head. Jack resisted the urge to subtly shove the redneck into the remaining pack of zombies. Things weren’t nearly chaotic enough to get away with it. Plus, Jack wasn’t entirely convinced she wanted to be that sort of asshole. After delivering a few more blows to the back of Rita’s head, turning into a gooey mush, Joy pulled back. Maybe she suspected Jack’s temptation.

Ada blasted a hole through Jughead Jones’ head without hesitation. The same could not be said for the next target she trained her pistol on. “Leon,” she gasped, startled both by the sudden familiarity of the face she was staring at, as well as the revelation that he’d become yet another of the ravenous living dead. The shock cost her dearly. Leon moved forward, clamping his hands around Ada’s arm and craning his neck towards her. His teeth sank into her forearm, chewing away a bloody chunk of flesh. The pain – and the death sentence – of the bite pushed aside Ada’s surprise. She yanked away from Leon, adjusted her aim, and fired. Leon had barely gotten to start chewing on the chunk of Ada he’d taken before his brains were sent spraying from the back of his head.

Ada stumbled back into the group, a hand clamped around her wound. The sound of gunfire and yelling dulled in her ears. The bite burned. It radiated up her arm, towards her chest, her heart. The virus or whatever it was that turned people into the living dead was inside her. They didn’t have a way to get it out. Bathory had been the one working on figuring those sorts of things out. If she’d made any progress on the problem, that research was destroyed. Her options weren’t limited, they were nonexistent. Panic rose up within her, but Ada took a firm hold of it and pushed it back down. She couldn’t do anything for herself, but she could still help the others.

In her moments of self-misery, the others had taken out Dan Cain and were putting the finishing touches on Tommy Doyle. Only Emily Kaldwin remained. She’d been the only one in the group of zombies that the rest knew. She charged into the group of survivors, growling and chomping. Jack cracked the butt of her shotgun across the side of Emily’s face, knocking her back. A hail of gunfire ripped into the woman, tossing her body from side to side. Her once pretty face vanished in a spatter of crimson as bullets tore through her skull. Her body slumped to the floor, bloody and twitching.

The assault was over. Bathory’s toys had been dealt with. But the death toll hadn’t reached its end. Ada saw the others take notice of her bite, the way they moved away from her. Whether they expected her to turn at a moment’s notice or try to kill them to go on living a little while longer, it didn’t much matter. Either way, they were scared of her, what she could do and what she could become. She lifted her hands, pointing her weapon up to show her lack of threat.

“I’ve been through too much to let myself become one of those things,” she said. She turned her pistol around, extending it butt first towards Samus. “You need a weapon.”

Samus took the gun and gave Ada a nod.

Ada took a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then let it out. She turned away from the group, figuring it’d make it easier on them. She knew it’d make it easier for herself. “Make it quick,” she said, quiet resignation in her voice.

There was no discussion. Taki stepped up behind Ada, taking the burden of the mercy killing on herself. Her hands came around the bitten woman, taking a firm hold of her head. Ada’s body tensed, instinctively primed for self-defense. She resisted the temptation to fight, accepting her fate as bravely as she could. Taki did her a favor by not dragging it out. She twisted hard and fast, crying out as she did to do her best to muffle the snapping of Ada’s neck. She dropped her hands lower as soon as the dead was done, taking up the sudden heavy slackness of the body. She crouched, pulling Ada’s corpse with her and laying it out across the floor as gently as she could.

There was no time for mourning or a proper send off. Just because one threat had been dealt with didn’t mean there weren’t countless others waiting to come down on them. The gunfire could have been heard. Like the arrangement for Ada’s death, it all went unsaid, but the survivors knew it all the same. The only hope they had was to move on and maybe find a way through the sewers before any more of them suffered a similar fate. So that’s what they did.


Sometime after the group of survivors had left, a humanoid monstrosity found his way to the scene. He kicked his two-toed foot through the littered corpses, bulbous eyes scanning across the figures. The creature paused when he came to Ada’s nearly flawless corpse. Kneeling beside her, he moved his hands over her body, feeling her cooling flesh with his thick trio of fingers. Her head rolled loosely on her shoulders, staring blankly into the amphibian-like face of her admirer. Seemingly satisfied with his appraisal, the creature gripped one of Ada’s calves and dragged her inert husk back the way he’d come from.


Further into the sewers, the group of survivors came to a sort of crossroads. There was a choice of tunnels to trek through. One was noticeably narrower. The power from the generator didn’t seem to reach it, leaving the passage basked in darkness. The second tunnel was roomier. The lights were off only at the start of it, but resumed further down, albeit casting an eerie off-blue color. There was no sign of danger down either path, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any to be found.

Jack looked to Samus. It was too soon to put all the responsibility on the bounty hunter’s shoulders, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t start pathing the way to that goal. “Well,” she asked. “Any ideas?”


Lingering in the shopping mall may have been a risk, but it was a needed one. The supplies locked up within the various shops could mean the difference between success and failure. Azula made the call to divide their efforts between looting the mall and scouting out a safe path forward. She worked with Baroness to put together a number of paired groups to accomplish both tasks. Keeping the groups to only pairs would help to maintain a low profile. It would also ensure that if a group was lost, it wouldn’t damage the overall strength of the main group much. Selection of those taking part in the dual-pronged operation was just as important. Azula wanted capable but, ultimately, expendable.

The trouble was, with their numbers as they were, and the odds stacked so poorly in their favor, expendable and capable was a hard thing to come by. Still, Azula and Baroness made do.

Three groups were formed to conduct the scouting operation. They were comprised of Astrid Hofferson and Hinata Hyuuga, Stocking Anarchy and Mugino Shizuri, and Sharon Carter and C. Viper. They set out to find routes out of the mall and beyond, towards the airport.

Another three were formed to loot the potential treasures of the mall. Those three pairs were made up of Maddie Fenton and Kylie Griffin, Lola and Nena, and Black Cat and Lioness. They were tasked of finding anything of use. Medical supplies, food, bottled water, weapons. With their various tasks assigned, the groups headed out.


The bulk of the foodstuffs in the mall’s cafeteria was well past its best usage date, but Black Cat and Lioness managed to find a smaller café on the top floor that provided more luck. The leftover bagels and pastries were stale, but edible. The bags of chips were still good and the biggest problem with the bottled water they had was that it was absurdly overpriced. Thankfully, there was no on there to object to them simply taking the bottles. It wasn’t a proper banquet, but it would do wonders to stave off starvation.

Black Cat popped the lock on the door leading into the employee’s only section of the mall. She propped the door open, tugging a stool over to keep it that way. Ducking her head through the door, she checked up and down the hall on the other side. There was no sign of monsters, but she did see some lockers. She made her way over to them, working at cracking the locks. She’d gotten the first one open by the time Lioness caught up with her.

“You think that’s the best use of our time?” she asked as Black Cat looted the contents of a wallet and tucked the cash into her supply bag.

Black Cat shrugged and moved on to the next locker. “If this all goes according to plan, we’ll get out of the city. Maybe we’ll find a normal civilization out there. If so, they’re probably still going to use real money. I have no idea how to get back to my own home, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to start my life in this one flat broke. Call me an optimist.”

Lioness shook her head. She didn’t approve of Black Cat’s theft, or her time management skills, but she didn’t see the point in wasting even more time trying to convince the thief to stop. “I’m going to see if this hall leads to any other shops that have things we actually need,” she said, turning away and heading down the hall.

Black Cat rolled her eyes and popped the next locker. A smirk filled her face as she pulled the holstered revolver free. “Nothing useful to be found, huh,” she muttered as she pulled the weapon free and checked the cylinder to find it fully loaded. She dumped it into her supply bag and continued to look through the locker. Another wallet. More cash for her nest egg. Then she found the engagement ring. It was a nice one. Gold with a diamond larger than she’d have expected from a barista. The ring was valuable. And it wasn’t doing anyone any good in the locker. Still, Felicia found it impossible to take the thing. Grumbling with annoyance, she clicked the ring box shut and set it back where she’d found it.

Black Cat tensed as Lioness hurried back to her. “Look, I’m not taking the stupid ring, okay?” she snapped.

Confusion washed over Lioness’s concerned face. “Huh?” Whatever Felicia was talking about didn’t matter. “I heard someone calling for help.”

“What? In the mall?”

Lioness shook her head. “No, there’s an alley access door a little ways down the hall. They probably used it to take trash down there. There’s someone out there and she needs our help.”

“If she’s yelling for it, she’s going to be something’s meal pretty soon. Probably their date first. You really think it’s a smart idea going down there? We’re the loot squad, not the rescue squad.”

Lioness’s expression hardened. “Azula didn’t make a rescue squad, but isn’t saving someone technically a form of looting? We don’t even know who she is. She might be useful. Oh, and then there’s that other reason. Being a decent human being.”

Black Cat rolled her eyes. “That’s never gotten me anything but trouble.”

“I’m going,” Lioness said, turning back the way she’d come from. “Stay here and keep stealing from dead people, you selfish bitch.”

Black Cat was ready to move on to the next locker, but Lioness’s words nagged at her. More than that, she didn’t want to come up with a valid explanation was to why the girl had gotten herself killed when they were supposed to be watching each other’s backs. “Fine!” she called after the young woman, turning away and hurrying after her. “Let’s go save the stupid day!”


The woman in need was nude. That already set off a few warning bells at the back of Black Cat’s brain. Then again, if she’d been assaulted by something lurking within the Necropolis and survived, it explained why she might be stupid enough to call out for help. She was likely traumatized. Still, few got away from the Legions of the Undead untouched. Maybe she’d been brought into the world without clothes. That would have been a shitty bit of luck. Black Cat had committed to helping Lioness, but she still let the woman go ahead of her down the stairs into the alley.

The woman was also sticking to the shadows, half-hidden behind a dumpster. Sticking to a hiding spot was clever, but it wouldn’t do her much good if she kept calling out for assistance. So instead, Lioness decided to do something equally stupid. She called back to get the woman’s attention. “We’re here,” she said, at least keeping her voice low. “Are you injured?”

The woman heard Lioness’s call, turned her head towards it and stepped out from behind the dumpster. Her movements were slowly, unsure, more signs that she’d been through some trauma. The lighting in the alley wasn’t great, but Black Cat caught a good enough look at the woman’s face to notice she looked a lot like Kimberly Hart. Great, she thought. This place isn’t satisfied with killing us once. It has to pull in multiple versions of us for bonus fun times.

The woman was not Kimberly Hart. The shared likeness was pure coincidence. But the biggest mistake Lioness – and, by proxy, Black Cat – made was assuming she was a woman at all. Jules Callaghan had died not long after her skin had been peeled from her body. The Fleashweavers had carefully filled out the skin-suit left behind with their webbing, transforming her into a body of their own design. A few of the arachnids had burrowed into the webbing, puppeteering Jules’ tendons to make her move, her vocal chords to make her speak. She was the bait. And as Lioness and Black Cat moved off the stairs and into the alley, they blindly walked right into the hook.

In their defense, the threads of webbing were very hard to see.

Lioness let out a shriek as the strands stuck to her shoulders retracted, plucking her into the air. Black Cat stepped back, hoping to avoid whatever unseen snare the woman had walked into. The knowledge that she’d already walked into it came as she felt the tug on her black bodysuit. “Never do the right thing,” she hissed as she was yanked upwards. The webbing was strong enough to hoist the pair up to the edge of the mall rooftop where the rest of the Fleshweavers lurked. They’d fashioned a canopy of webbing for their prey. The women’s struggling bodies were laid out within it, arms and legs stretched apart. The powerful adhesive qualities of the webbing limited the women’s range of movement in moments, transforming them into squirming morsels.

Lioness was laid out face up and spread-eagle. The speed with which things had gone wrong had left her shocked, but the shock wore off as she caught sight of the oversized spiders crawling across the canopy, over her body. She managed only one terrified scream before her mouth was stuffed full of webbing. Her bulging eyes and muffled whines continued to showcase her fear as the Fleshweavers worked together to tear away her clothing. Mostly nude and helpless, Lioness could do nothing but squirm as the even larger Broodmother spider crawled into the canopy and over her body.

It was amazing how fast a phobia could develop. Lioness hadn’t been particularly bothered by spiders up until about thirty seconds before she’d become the unwilling companion to them. Her chest heaved, bare breasts jiggling from the rapid beat of her heart. The Broodmother’s mandibles clicked excitedly an inch or so away from Lioness’s gagged mouth, leaking thick saliva across the panicked girl’s face. The oversized spider’s abdomen bulged with eggs, a thick proboscis sliding free from the beneath the exoskeleton. Lioness’s legs were spread, her cunt was bare, she could do nothing to keep the proboscis from pushing into her sensitive folds.

The Broodmother’s proboscis was bulbed. The bulb at the tip was the smallest. It entered Lioness easily. Her cunt lips stretched around each of the bulbs beyond, straining more as their size grew. Lioness groaned into the webbing gag stuffing her mouth as the ache from her loins worsened. The tip of the proboscis mashed against the squirming young woman’s cervix. Once it encountered the resistance, the Broodmother stopped pushing. Its abdomen rose and fell, creating a light fucking rhythm as it worked its eggs down the length of the proboscis and into Lioness’s body.

The pain of having her cervix pried open by the insistent pressure of the spongy spider egg was great enough that – even with the web-gag – Lioness’s scream was impressive. Her eyes squeezed shut tight, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to escape the nightmare of her existence mentally. Physically escaping wasn’t an option. The web held her too tightly. Even if she could squirm free of it, the weight of the Broodmother pressing down on her would still have her pinned in place. Her slim belly began to distend as the eggs filled her uterus. Lioness’s sanity threatened to give out on her as she endured the forced monstrous pregnancy. The Broodmother continued to pump Lioness full of eggs until her body could take no more. Sliding free of her gaping pussy, one of the smaller Fleshweavers was quick to move in and spray a layer of webbing across her crotch to ensure none of the eggs would slip free.

Laid out face down within the canopy, Black Cat didn’t catch much of Lioness’s impregnation. But the way the Fleshweaver’s had stripped her, and the knowledge of what the Necropolis tended to do to its victims gave her a pretty good indication of what she might be in store for. The universe is a pretty fucked up place, she thought as she tried to work her arms free from the webbing. Just because I fantasized about mating with a particular Spider doesn’t mean I wanted this.

“Get off!” she yelled as the Broodmother climbed onto her back. “Get o – “ The dutiful Fleshweaver sprayed another dose of webbing into Black Cat’s mouth, silencing her as efficiently as Lioness. The proboscis slapped against the wiggling cheeks of Black Cat’s ass, leaving behind glistening layers of slime as the Broodmother worked the tip into her crack and against her clenched sphincter. Black Cat grunted, eyes bulging, as the first bulb popped into her ass. A flash of sudden, absurd regret shot through Felicia’s mind as the second bulb squeezed up her rear. Buy some anal beads, she thought, mocking herself as she cringed through the third bulb’s entrance. It’ll be a fun bit of experience for when I finally bag my Spider.

Felicia knew that her limited anal experimentation would not have saved her from the terrible fate, but the irony of it all infuriated her. She used that fury to lend her strength, pulling at the webbing harder. Her lithe muscles flexed, but whatever headway she might’ve managed vanished as she felt the first of the eggs slide into her guts. The feel of the egg inside her brought the whole situation to a sickening level of reality for her. Her struggles intensified, plump breasts straining against the front of her bodysuit and into the canopy of webbing beneath her. She tried to think if any of the other teams had been close enough to the café Lioness and she had looted before being lured into the alley. She doubted it would do her much good if there was. With their mouths gagged, neither of them could call out and it wasn’t as if any would-be rescuers would think to look up. If anything, their calls for rescue would only lure even more victims to their doom.

The noble sacrifice thing really isn’t my style, Felicia thought, fighting to hold down the bile burning at the back of her throat. Her belly expanded. Her smooth flesh became lumpy as the eggs piled up within her. With Black Cat’s stomach and intestines to fill, she was forced to take far more eggs than Lioness. Her skin stretched painfully, transforming her once slender physique into a grossly obese shape. When the Broodmother’s supply of eggs finally ran out, the large spider withdrew the spent proboscis from Felicia’s gaping asshole. More webbing sealed up the orifice. With its duty done, the Broodmother climbed up and out of the canopy, back onto the mall rooftop where it would find a place to die.

It wouldn’t be much longer before the Broodmother’s victims would be just as dead. Lioness’s muffled sobs rose into restrained shrieks as the eggs laid deep within her began to stir. The strained skin of her impregnated belly undulated as the spiders hatched within her, crawling free of their eggs and into the warm surroundings of Lioness’s quivering body. The tendons in her neck protruded distinctly as she screamed into her webbing gag, tears gushing from her eyes as the pain of dozens of hungry mouths began to shew into the walls of her uterus. Once they got through the tough tissue, they spilled deeper into her, crawling along her innards and biting away ravenous mouthfuls of organ.

Lioness’s suffering escalated as the freshly hatched Fleshweavers spread out through her body, consuming her from within. The bulge in her belly sank inwards, first back to its originally slim state before dipping further inwards. Lumps moved across the smooth flesh of her perky breasts as the mounds were devoured, leaving behind only loose flaps of skin. Her throat bulged as a couple of the spiders crawled their way up into her mouth, chewing away at the roof so they could squeeze into her sinus cavities and then her skull. The young woman’s bulging eyes tinged red as her brain was chewed away. Her body shuddered violently within the confines of the webbing, blood leaking steadily from her flared nostrils. The Fleshweavers were still dining on her when she finally slumped lifelessly in her bindings, not-so-gradually transforming into a loose sack of skin and bones.

There was no limit to the subtle ways the Necropolis could fuck with a person. What could only be attributed to bad luck and random chance seemed to pile into something that seemed to add a particular level of cruelty tailored to specific individuals. Black Cat had already endured one of those random chance cruelties due to her placement within the canopy. But she found herself cursing her innate talents as Lioness was devoured from within by the Fleshweavers. Her remarkable hearing had afforded her the ability to crack most safes without the need of any extra gear. Now it was allowing her to listen in on Lioness’s organs being torn apart.

Felicia couldn’t see much in the way of positives from the auditory experience, but it did encourage her to start fighting harder to get free. She didn’t have any kind of plan beyond that. Off-hand, getting back down to the alleyway was the next logical step. Then she’d have to figure out a way to get the eggs out of her before they hatched. With her body plugged at both ends with the webbing, even the humiliating efforts of potentially shitting or puking the eggs out didn’t seem likely to work. Still, Black Cat wasn’t about to lay back and allow herself to become a meal for the newborn monsters lurking within her.

The webbing was strong, but a few of the bricks the canopy had been attached to had endured enough weathering to have weakened. The canopy shifted suddenly as Black Cat’s struggles managed to wiggle one of the bricks loose. Lioness wasn’t weighing as much as she once had, but Black Cat had more than enough added mass to tug the loosened canopy downwards. The shift gave her some much needed leverage. She yanked at the webbing, managing to tear an arm free at the cost of a chunk of her bodysuit. The Fleshweavers took notice of Black Cat’s successes. They scurried their way towards the woman, trying to rebind her to the canopy and the canopy to the wall.

With only one arm free, Black Cat wasn’t much of a threat, but she was a good deal more able than she’d been only a few moments earlier. She knocked the spiders away as she twisted her body, managing to tear more of herself free. The front of her bodysuit was the next to suffer, peeling away and freeing her breasts. She ignored the exposure, taking advantage of her greater freedom to pull herself further out of the canopy. More of the Fleshweavers were converging on her. They’d have her webbed back up fast if she didn’t get free. Tearing a leg away from the web, she brought it up and planted her foot firmly against the wall, kicking out as hard as she could. The kick was strong enough to roll her up and out of the canopy.

Which presented a brand new problem for Black Cat.

The way she saw things, she had improved her situation somewhat. She had full range of motion in her arms and legs again and it seemed quite likely that she wouldn’t have to suffer through being eaten alive. That second point seemed particularly valuable considering she could feel the eggs stuffed inside her starting to move. The downside was that she was in a full free fall. She’d made drops from similar heights before without issue. Living up to the stereotype about cats always landing on their feet was one of her specialties. But the added weight of the dozens of eggs had her off balance. She barely had the chance to get her legs under her in even the best circumstances. With her bloated, lumpy belly weighing her down, she had no chance at all.

Black Cat hit the pavement with a shockingly graceful degree of gracelessness. She couldn’t have landed a better belly flop if she’d tried. The strained flesh of her abdomen ruptured on impact, spraying her guts out from under her and pulverizing the eggs stuffing her. The force of the impact managed to tear the layer of webbing sealing her asshole – taking a chunk of her ass with it – and sent a geyser of ruptured egg sacks rocketing from her rear. Her breasts ripped open, flinging chunks of fat and flesh across the road. Her ribs shattered, her spine snapped, but she managed to pull her head back far enough to avoid having her teeth shot through the back of her head. The instinctive act of self-preservation only helped Black Cat to suffer for a little longer as the extent of her injuries rapidly pulled her into death.


There was a lot to do and even more at stake, but that didn’t mean Baroness was slowing down on her plans to usurp Azula. She’d spent too long watching other leaders make stupid mistakes and – aside from her own desire for power – she genuinely felt that for the group of survivors to remain survivors they needed clear, decisive leadership. It was something she could provide. And she would not be squeamish about making the appropriate sacrifices when necessary. In her mind, Azula was one of those necessary sacrifices. But she lacked the manpower – or womanpower, as it was – to feel confident in making a move. Recruitment was needed, but it would have to be handled with discretion.

The Baroness was considering two potential recruits. The first was Azura. The woman was generally well regarded with everyone in the group. Even now, she was using what limited magic the Necropolis had left her with to help restore the vitality of some of the weakened survivors. Baroness watched the woman move from one woman to the next, doing what she could to help. Shantae moved along with her, making her own attempt to reduce the overwhelming stress placed on the group with a series of lively and seductive dance moves. Azura was doing some good in her efforts. Shantae, less so.

Michonne was also on Baroness’s short list. The katana-wielding black woman had certainly proven herself capable in the realm of slaying the undead. She’d been tasked with patrolling the ground floor and watching her slow, precise movements as she kept an eye out for anything out of place showcased just what kind of a predator she was. But Michonne was about as stoic as they came. Baroness hadn’t been able to get a proper feel for the woman’s nature, or if she’d be amenable to a change in the power structure. It might’ve been the right time to see which side of the equation she would be on.


What Erin Hannon lacked in street smarts and killer instinct, she made up for with cute naivety. Add in the red hair and Harley Quinn hadn’t been able to resist letting her tag along. She’d not been in the Necropolis long, but it hadn’t taken much for her to know that the place was about as dangerous as they came. Having a gullible meat-shield at her side seemed like a smart play, especially one that looked as deliciously fuckable as Erin.

Harley hadn’t gotten into the redhead’s pants yet, but she figured it was only a matter of time. With as many near death experiences as the Necropolis offered on a minute-to-minute basis, it would only take finding the right quiet moment to make her move. A little of the old, ‘Oh, Red, you look tense… Why don’t I give you a massage?’ and then the clothes would come off and the hands would go exploring. Harley suspected Erin might mutter out something to the effect of not being a lesbian, but she doubted the young woman would really put up any kind of resistance.

The apartment complex looked dead. Not the typical Necropolis brand of dead, but properly abandoned. It looked like the perfect place to shack up and play a fun game of doctor. Still, Harley’s desire to get laid and check out what Erin was hiding under her hood came in a close second to her desire to go on breathing. The apartment units might have supplied some coziness and the height advantage would provide them a clear view of anything coming to kill them, but if they were caught off-guard, they’d have no options beyond going further up. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop wasn’t really within Harley’s skill set. So instead of heading up, Harley led her companion down into the complex’s basement.


Bathory worked her fingers carefully around Nancy Callahan’s weakly beating heart. The blonde stripper was in bad shape. She’d kidnapped the woman from the Bunker with the intent of using her as the first of her new test subjects. But Nancy’s good looks had driven Bathory into a rage. She’d carved off the woman’s face, stapling it to the head of a mannequin she’d found. Nancy’s chest had endured a skinning and a relocation to the mannequin as well, before Bathory had cracked open her ribs and pulled them aside to reveal the stripper’s heart.

Lifting Nancy’s heart from her chest with one hand, Bathory worked the bloody knife she’d been using across her arteries. The spurting organ came free as Nancy fell into dying shudders on the table that had previously been used to fold laundry. Bathory hefted the heart up over her head, tilting her face back. She squeezed, forcing the hot blood to gush down over her face and down her chest. Thick lines of crimson drizzled into her deep cleavage. Bathory moaned deeply, tugging at the front of her top to let her breasts spill free. She rubbed the blood across her soft flesh. It wasn’t the quality of blood bath she’d grown accustomed to in the Bunker, but it was better than nothing.

“Hate to interrupt.”

The voice made Bathory jump more than she cared to admit, very nearly letting Nancy’s slippery heart fall from her fingers. She turned towards the intruders who’d wandered into her makeshift lab. Another blonde – her hair pulled into pigtails – who might’ve been a contender for Bathory in the good looks department if she’d not decided to dress up as some kind of Sex Jester. She looked far more at ease with the flesh stapled to the mannequin and the bloody carcass lying on the table than her redheaded friend did. The second woman’s red hair reminded Bathory of Rayne, which only further stirred her rage. Granted, this redhead looked a good deal more like an awkward secretary than she did a dhampir assassin.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Harley remarked, reaching over to give one of Nancy’s dead nipples a tweak. “It’s got a very slaughterhouse vibe.”

“Harley, what the fudge are you doing?” Erin hissed, wide eyes darting from the gore to the woman responsible for it. “We need to get out of here.” She raised her voice as she addressed Bathory. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am. We’ll be leaving now.”

Harley’s desire to see Erin in her birthday suit wasn’t gone, but it had ticked down several notches as soon as they’d entered the basement. The psychotic bloodshed had been an unexpected discovery, but not an unpleasant one. She ignored her companion’s distress, keeping her focus on Bathory. She gave the blood-soaked woman a curious look, pointing a finger in her direction. “You some kinda doctor, honey?” She flashed her prettiest smile. “Y’know, I’m something of a doctor myself.”

Bathory gave Harley a scathing glare, eyes drifting up and down her unorthodox outfit. “What sort of cunt doctor dresses like that?”

“Language!” Erin snapped.

“Shut up,” Bathory and Harley responded in unison.

“Anyway,” Harley continued, motioning to Bathory’s exposed breasts. “I could ask you the same thing.” Her bottom lip curled into a mock pout. “And I ain’t an OBGYN, lady. I’m a brain doctor.” She flashed another proud grin. “A brainy brain doctor.”

Bathory’s ire was tempered with curiosity, and the possibility of the strangely dressed woman being more useful than she’d original suspected. “Neurologist?” she asked.

Harley shook her head. “Nah, the other kind. I put the criminal in criminal psychologist.”

Bathory was still intrigued, but unconvinced. “Prove it.”

“Oh, goodie,” Harley said, clapping her hands together. “A chance to show off.” She looked Bathory over, then Nancy’s corpse, then the flaps of skin attached to the mannequin. “She was pretty. Young. Prettier and younger than you. You took off her face first, that was the jealousy. Then you decided to have a bit of fun. Carve off her tits and tack them to the mannequin, too. Not that there wasn’t still jealousy. They were perkier than yours, after all. Bigger, too. This macabre display would make a good warning sign, but that’s not why you did it. You did it cuz you wanted to make her ugly.”

Taking Bathory’s silence – and her displeased look – to be a confirmation of her diagnosis so far, Harley continued. “Then you went for the heart. You could’ve done it just to drag her death out, make it hurt more, But that wasn’t the only reason. You ripped that blood-filled sucker out and squeezed it all over yourself like you were in a beer commercial and it was a sudsy sponge.” She laughed. “You’re a special kinda crazy, ain’t ya, doll? Bathing in the blood of pretty girls cuz you think it’ll keep you looking spry and sexy. I bet you’ve given yourself some kinda goofy name, too. Like the Countess, or Bathory, or something.”

Bathory’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “My name is Bathory.”

“Called it!” Harley cheered.

“It’s not some ridiculous nickname,” she growled. “I am Dr. Bathory Mengele. I am a direct descendant of the actual Erzsebet Bathory.”

“Oh, fun! Delusions of grandeur, too! I am so glad we met!”

“You won’t be very soon,” Bathory hissed, snatching up her knife and starting her way around the table towards Harley.

“No,” Harley barked, pulling a hand grenade free and lifting it up to her face. She pinched her teeth closed around the grenade’s pin, ready to tug it free. “Y’see,” she said, around the pin. “I’m a special kinda crazy, too. So why don’t you keep your distance? We’re not finished chatting yet.” Erin attempted to subtly back away towards the stairs. Harley reached out and snagged her by the arm. “Now’s not the time to run, Red. We got this crazy bitch right where we want her.”

Bathory paused. She was strong. Stronger than Harley knew. But even she wasn’t sure she could survive a grenade at close proximity. “What do you propose?” she asked. “Annoying me into the point of killing myself?”

Harley chuckled around the pin. She carefully removed it from her mouth to better talk, making sure to let Bathory see her thumb slipping into the ring. “Y’know, I actually did that once. It was this pizza delivery guy. Kept getting my orders wrong. Tied him up and talked to him for thirty-six straight hours. He was begging me for the gun he put in his mouth by the end of it. Best. Birthday. Ever.” Neither Bathory or Erin seemed as amused by the story as she was. She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m more interested in what your deal is. Are you just running around town pretending your Dracula’s slutty cousin or are you more interesting than that?”

Bathory’s jaw firmed as Harley continued to mock her. She tucked her blood-stained breasts back away, suddenly feeling the need to make herself look presentable. Jokes aside, Harley had proven her skills. If she could keep her desire to slaughter the annoying woman at bay for at least a little while, there might be something of value in them working together. “I was recently evicted from my previous lab. I was conducting experiments on the local abominations. My former benefactors believed it was to find a cure for the undead infection, but I was far more interested in finding a means of controlling them.”

“Wanna be Queen of the Zombies, huh?” Harley remarked with a nod. It wasn’t a terrible idea. “Any success?”

The smugness in Bathory’s face faded slightly. “Not nearly enough. Due to certain… handicaps… I could not be as bold in my experiments as I would have liked. And due to circumstances beyond my control, I’ve lost my test subjects and all hard records of my research. Still, I was able to discern certain facts regarding the epidemic ravaging this city. It’s not a virus. Or at least, it’s like no virus I’ve seen before. Whatever it is, is capable of reanimating dead tissue. The infection can be transmitted via bite or particularly bad scratches. There’s a possibility that it might be capable of being sexually transmitted, but I’ve not been able to sufficiently explore that avenue. They’re driven by base instincts. Hunger. Mating. But they’re not entirely brainless. Something is directing them, whether it’s the virus itself or something greater. Either way, it shows clear signs of some form of intelligence, some degree of being controlled.”

“So you think that if you interrupt whatever it is controlling them, they’ll be putty for you to mold?” Harley finished for her.

“Precisely,” Bathory confirmed. “But I’ve only been able to experiment with zombies that have either already been killed, or have had the infection so deeply ingrained in them that whatever controlling force there is can’t be dislodged.”

Harley’s eyes lit up. “What you need is a living test subject.” Her fingers tightened around Erin’s arm. “C’mon, Red, time to do some science!”

“Quit joking around, Harley!” Erin yelled back, tugging to get free. “Let’s just leave the crazy lady to be crazy.”

Harley ignored Erin’s protests. She held the grenade up again. “Catch,” she called to Bathory, tossing it over. Bathory jumped, hands coming up to catch the grenade before it could hit the ground. Harley chuckled at the woman’s startled expression. “Relax,” she assured. “It’s only a model.” Her brow furrowed. “At least, I think it is. Y’know what, let’s be safe and say it’s not.” She tugged Erin over to the table where Nancy’s body lay. With her free hand, she loosened the straps holding the body down. She lifted a leg and planted it against the dead blonde’s hip, shoving the carcass off.

Erin twisted and pulled against Harley’s grip. “I don’t wanna be your damn test subject! Just let me go!”

“We gotta damn outta her,” Harley laughed, giving Erin a grin as she forced the redhead onto the table. “There’s the spunk I knew you had in you.”

“Fuck you,” Erin shot back, dropping her distaste for cursing in the face of certain tortured death.

Harley rolled her eyes. “Now she offers,” she grumbled as she helped Bathory hold Erin’s arms and legs down to secure her to the table. “It’s not too late, honey. I’m a whizz at multitasking.” She gave Erin a good example of her skills, feeling her up as she tied her down to the table.

Down on the floor, Nancy’s dead eyes sparked with a flash of unlife. Her lipless teeth parted to emit a growl as her hands pressed against the floor, starting to lift herself up. Bathory took notice and promptly rammed the tipped point of her heel into the undead stripper’s skull. Nancy’s body gave off a spastic jerk before slumping back to the floor, properly dead. The day had certainly taken a turn, but despite the annoying nature Harley possessed, Bathory saw the potential value she possessed. How long she’d keep the woman around depended solely on how well their little experiment went.

Once Erin was securely trussed up and left squirming on the table, Harley stepped back and admired her catch. “Looking good, Red,” she remarked. “Nothing sexier than a cutie like you in bondage.” She broke her eyes away from Erin and looked to Bathory. “Oh, we ain’t been officially introduced yet. Dr. Harleen Quinzel. But my friends call me Harley Quinn.” She extended her hand.

Bathory lifted an eyebrow at the woman, but accepted the handshake. “And you derided my name?”

Harley ignored the comment. “So whatever it is making these dead people wake up horny, it has to be in their brains. Destroy their brain and they’re just so much stinking flesh. But, maybe if we damage her pretty brain just enough before she dies, whatever it is that controls them won’t be able to make a proper connection.”

“A lobotomy?” Bathory suggested.

Harley considered it. “Haven’t seen too many of those, but back at Arkham – you’d love Arkham – they were fond of pumping some juice into the patients’ heads. Helped to keep em complacent. And by complacent, I mean drooling idiots.” She looked around the basement. “What do you have for operating tools in this dump, anyway?”


Erin really found a talent for cursing when Harley started to cut and shave away her hair. Nancy’s panties did a good job of muffling her crude remarks. “Guess I can’t call you Red anymore,” Harley remarked as Erin’s hair came away, leaving behind only stubble. The buzz of the clippers drowned out whatever muffled response Erin gave. When her hair was gone, Harley popped the cap off of a Sharpie and went about the task of marking a dotted line across the woman’s forehead and around the circumference of her skull. “Alright, Not-So-Red,” Harley said with a smirk as she hefted the circular saw into view. “This is gonna sting a little.”

Bathory helped hold Erin’s head steady. Harley made a mental note of how physically strong the woman was, despite appearances, but filed it away for later. The apartment complex hadn’t exactly been stocked with appropriate tools for brain surgery. She needed to maintain a steady hand and a firm focus as she carefully guided the circular saw’s blade into Erin’s forehead. Blood sprayed across her face, but she was no stranger to being doused in the fluid. She carefully worked her way around Erin’s head. It wasn’t the straightest line, but it got the job done without killing the young woman. Letting her finger come off the saw’s trigger, Harley set the tool aside and carefully popped the top of Erin’s skull cap off.

Setting the cap aside, Harley leaned in and took a deep whiff of Erin’s exposed brain. “Ah, I just love the smell of cerebral fluid in the whatever the hell time of day it is right now.” She moved forward, looking down into Erin’s terrified eyes. “Didn’t I promise you some sexy fun times?” she asked, tapping the young woman on the nose. “I think it’s time I made good on that.” She moved around the table, hands dropping back onto Erin’s chest. She felt the woman’s breasts through her top before gripping the neck of her shirt and tearing it away. Unclipping the bra beneath, Harley let the cups slide away from the fleshy mounds, giggling as she drank in the sight of Erin’s naked tits. They were pale, perky, tipped with rosy nipples with a splatter of freckles across them.

“We do not have time for these games,” Bathory growled as Harley leaned in to start sucking at one of Erin’s nipples.

Harley popped her lips free and gave the blonde an annoyed glare. “What? You’re a doctor, right? You know how a brain works.” She waved a hand nonchalantly towards Erin’s head. “Fry her frontal lobe. I’m busy.” She moved further down Erin’s body, unfastening her pants and tugging them far enough down her thighs to gain access to what lay beneath her light purple panties. She peeled the underwear to the side, revealing a tuft of fiery pubic hair and the crevasse of Erin’s cunt. “There’s that cherry pie I’ve been craving,” she said with a playful purr before diving face first into Erin’s snatch.

Bathory glowered at Harley, but it didn't seem to do much to deter the woman from lapping her tongue across Erin's slit. She moved around behind Erin's head, picking up the set of knitting needles they'd found. The fear in Erin's eyes was joined by the disgust of the unwanted pleasure Harley was inflicting on her. By the time Bathory finished with her, she'd feel no fear or disgust. She spun one of the needles between her fingers, tilting her head and looking closely at the wrinkled mass of Erin's mind. She selected her point of entry carefully, touching the tip of the needle against the gently pulsing brain tissue and slowly sliding it into place. Erin shuddered on the table, eyes bulging. Either it was from the needle being inserted or the orgasm Harley had forced her into.

The next three needles went in just as smoothly, each of them positioned at precise points in Erin's brain. Harley stared up the length of Erin's body as she wagged her tongue across the woman's clitoris, staring past her heaving breasts to her flushed face. She worked a hand down the front of her pants, rubbing at her cunt. Nothing turned her on quite like watching someone lose their mind. Bathory clipped connectors to the ends of the needles shoved into Erin's brain. From there, it was only a matter of completing the connection to the car battery they'd looted.

The first blast of electricity was enough to stun Erin's brain. Her body snapped stiff across the table. The juice shot through her and into Harley. Her lips tingled from the shock, but she was able to pull back. She stumbled and giggled, drawing her sticky fingers free from her pants. She gave them a suck. “Always a rush,” she muttered.

Erin slumped loosely as Bathory ended the first dose of electricity. She panted and whined, drool leaking from the edges of her lips. Her eyes darted about, confused and pained. The shock had left her disoriented, but still there. Bathory gave her another, longer one. Her teeth clenched, spraying saliva through them as her body vibrated against the table. Harley stared openly at Erin's rippling tit flesh while she gave her own a squeeze. She leaned forward, curiously examining the woman as Bathory cut the connection a second time.

“Hey there, honey,” she called to Erin. “Do you know your name?”

Erin's face constricted, straining to answer the question. When she couldn't, she burst into tears. Bathory interrupted them with a third jolt of electricity. The woman performed one more erotic dance of electrocution for the pair. By the time it came to an end, Erin had no more words, or tears. She stared vacantly up at her tormentors, drooling freely and blinking slowly. Harley leaned in closer and snapped her fingers in front of Erin's face. She offered no discernible reaction.

“Well, it's official,” Harley announced, leaning back and crossing her arms. “We have a vegetable.”

Bathory nodded. “Time to see if this little experiment of yours is going to work.” She yanked the cellophane sheet across Erin's face, holding it down firmly enough to mash her lips and nose against its clear surface. At first, Erin did not respond to the abrupt asphyxiation. Gradually, her body began to shift with more unease as her body's base instincts slowly took over. She worked herself up to a pretty lively bit of struggling, a performance erotic enough to lure Harley back in. The pigtailed blonde worked a couple fingers into Erin's clenching pussy, pumping steadily. She kept up the finger-fucking right through Erin's demise, unbothered by the sudden gush of piss that escaped her.

Bathory kept the cellophane in place for a few minutes longer before peeling it away from Erin's sweaty, discolored face. She slid the knitting needles free of the woman's partially ruined brain and worked the bloody skull cap into place. She was in the midst of stapling the top of her skull back down when whatever unholy corruption permeating the Necropolis took hold of her. Her eyes fluttered and she began to write on the table, moaning with a dullness that Bathory had not heard from previous zombies.

The fact that she hadn't come back immediately trying to chomp into her was also a good sign.

The next step of the experiment was the riskiest. Bathory sliced through the straps holding Erin down. The freshly zombified woman sat up, stretching her freed limbs. The reanimated muscles twitched as the new life within her got used to working her like a puppet. Then she turned towards Bathory, let out a low growl, and lunged towards her. Bathory jerked her knife up, ready to shove it through Erin's eye and finish destroying her brain.

“Red!” Harley snapped.

Erin froze, teeth bared, knife point less than an inch from her eye. Bathory resisted the urge to shove the knife the rest of the way. Erin's head twitched at the end of her twisting neck as she turned to look at Harley. Her aggression faded.

Harley grinned. “Good girl,” she said. “Now come over here and give mama a kiss.” She leaned forward, presenting her cheek to the zombie. Erin shuffled her way over, grunting and growling. Her face shifted from vacant to snarling as she neared Harley, but when she went for the woman's cheek, she didn't tear away a chunk of flesh. She planted her lips gently against Harley's skin before moving away.

“You're insane,” Bathory muttered.

Erin turned and snapped her teeth angrily at her.

“Bad pet zombie!” Harley yelled, reaching forward to flick Erin across the nose. “You do not eat mama's new partner!”

Erin let out a whimper of disappointment, but she settled down.

“Incredible,” Bathory said, continuing to look Erin over. “It appears our experiment has been a success.” Her wonderment hardened into murderous desire. She stared into Erin's dead eyes and aimed a finger at Harley. “Kill her.”

Several awkward moments of stillness later, Harley burst into laughter. “I admire the lack of loyalty. Looks like Red's not a fan of taking orders from you, though.” She turned her attention to her undead minion. “Alright, Dead Girl. Go watch the stairs. Mama's gotta discuss the details of her arrangement with Auntie Bathory.” Erin shuffled her way to the stairwell. Harley crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, leveling a glare at Bathory. “So,” she said. “Are we gonna try to kill each other all night, or can we get down to the post-mad science sex?”


Fate Testerosa planted deep kisses against Nanoha Takamachi’s lips. Their tongues met, sliding against each other as their breath quickened, soft moans passing between them. Fate lay on top of Nanoha, her full breasts mashing against her lover’s smaller mounds. She worked a hand between them, cupping Nanoha’s right breast and giving it a firm squeeze. Nanoha whimpered against Fate’s lips, curling her legs around the backs of the blonde’s knees and grinding her bare crotch upwards. Fate broke free from the kissing, releasing a soft chuckle before craning her head downwards. She wrapped her lips around Nanoha’s nipple, giving the sensitive nub a hard suck. The girl beneath her writhed with rising passion. When she closed her teeth around the nipple and give it a firm nip, Nanoha went wild.

Nanoha’s hands slipped around Fate, gripping at the woman’s buttocks. Her fingers dug into the warm flesh, holding her lover tightly. Nanoha spread her legs, bent her knees, and angled her crotch upwards to rub her wet slit against Fate’s abdomen. Her panting grew heavier as her lust built. When Fate finally slid further down her body, it took everything she had not to give out an excited squeal. She couldn’t avoid doing a happy wiggle on the bed, though, drawing a giggle of amusement from Fate. Dropping low enough to get a full view of her girlfriend’s cunt, Fate admired it for a few moments – the deep crevasse hiding her folds and the small bump of skin where her clitoris was – before diving in.

Fate gave Nanoha’s pussy a long lick, from bottom to top. Her hands moved to her partner’s sex, thumbs prying her open for better access. She pressed her lips forward, extending her tongue to lap against Nanoha’s clit, feeling the nub stiffening under her touch. Nanoha moaned loudly, reaching down to grab the back of Fate’s head. She ground her crotch against her lover’s face, riding the high of her ecstasy-inducing touch. Her juices flowed from her. Fate eagerly lapped them up, shoving her tongue deep into her quivering orifice. The blonde stretched her arms upwards, cupping Nanoha’s breasts and tweaking her nipples.

Fate did her best to pace herself. It was going to be their last night together for a while. The next day, she’d be back on duty and she wasn’t sure when she’d get the chance to secure some time off to dispense the right amount of attention on her girlfriend. Still, while she had no time remaining focused, the self-control required to hold back was harder to keep hold of. Once they’d worked their way into a sixty-nine position, Fate gave up entirely on conserving her energy and instead relied solely on her stamina and sheer force of will to fill the night up with as much carnal lust as she could.

The sun was nearly up by the time the women could take no more. They lay across the bed, still entwined, drenched in sweat and cunt honey. Nanoha drifted off to sleep, but Fate fought off the fatigue she felt. She didn’t have time for the rest. She spent a while just looking at her girlfriend, memorizing as much of her flesh as she could, before carefully easing out of the bed to go shower off and get ready.

It was going to be a long day, but totally worth it.


Given the nature of the multiverse, it wasn’t shocking that there were two agencies in charge of policing the expanse of realities, but it did amuse Fate. Especially since she’d managed to find employment with both the TSAB and the MVA. Pulling double-duty kept her busier than she liked, but it also afforded her the opportunity to do twice as much good. Despite the long night she’d spent with Nanoha, she arrived at her pickup spot a few minutes early. She sent out the signal to her MVA contact, indicating that she was ready for pickup. She’d grown accustomed to the unnerving wavering in reality as the portal was created. She stepped through, giving herself over to the sensation of swift motion, vanishing from her world and entering the intake room at the MVA headquarters.

The place seemed more hectic than usual. Considering the MVA tended to handle dozens of imminent threats at a time, that was saying something. Fate was hurried along to MVA Director Samantha Carter’s office. The woman seemed noticeably on edge. Fate caught a quick glimpse of her private terminal, recognizing the imposing figure on display.

“What’s he done this time?” Fate asked, referred to Gogedheh. The Predator had been a thorn in the MVA’s side for a while now, at the top of their Most Wanted list.

Carter closed out the file. “Last sighting was in Gotham City. In his home universe. Presumed dead, but we were unable to locate a body. We suspect he might be involved in some recent disappearances.” She turned her attention to Fate. “But that’s not your mission.”

Fate suppressed the desire to curse. There’d been rumors that Carter was putting together a specialized Extermination Squad to deal with the Predator once and for all. She’d been hoping to get onto the team. She watched Carter open up another file on her terminal, noting the label as Dark Zone Event, with the distinction of Critical attached to it. A shiver ran down her spine, suddenly realizing why the MVA was in such a frantic state.

Dark Zone Events were defined as any irregular activity within a dimension involving multiverse travel but specifically managed to evade the MVA’s abilities to monitor. They were typically small, the byproduct of a high level of technological advancement or some form of magical talent. She’d never seen one labeled as Critical before. That designation meant that the Dark Zone area was of significant size, or that the multiverse interference was particularly large. As Fate soon learned as Carter caught her up to speed, this event was both quite large and had affected a vast number of universes.

“We’ve tracked hundreds of abductions of various persons from various points throughout space and a vast number of universes,” she explained. “We’ve also been detecting certain aberrations in the chronicles that indicates some of these individuals have been plucked from a different time. They vanish quickly and with no indication of where they’ve been taken. It’s taken us months to track down where they’re all going.” She pulled up an overlay of what looked like it could have been a vast city on the waterfront, but where the city should have been was simply a greyish smudge. “We believe we’ve finally found that location. There’s some kind of barrier encompassing the city. None of our surveillance tech can penetrate it and our attempt to port someone directly through the barrier was…” Carter’s face paled. “Let’s just say messy.”

Working for the MVA had a myriad number of risks. Fate, like all the others who worked for the agency, had accepted that. Still, she was quite thankful that she’d not been selected to try to go through the barrier. “What’s the plan?”

“You’ll be taking a ship and port in outside of the city,” Carter told her. “From there, you’ll attempt to breach the barrier. If you’re able to, report back what the hell’s going on down there.” She looked at the monitor showing the smudge of a city. “I’ve seen a lot of scary things since I started working here. This has made the top of the list. Whatever is powerful enough to do what it’s done is nothing to be underestimated. So engage only if it’s absolutely necessary. Once you’ve collected enough data for a full report, return here so we can figure out what to do next.”

Fate nodded. “Solo mission?”

“No,” Carter said. “You’ll have a small team. Gwen DeMarco to run comms, Susan Storm to assist in reconnaissance, Veronica Santangelo to cover whatever engineering problems might arise – plus, she’s been dying to punch something for a while now, Quiet will handle whatever combat is required, the goal being to keep it as subtle and long range as possible, and Rebecca Chambers will act as your field medic. Your team is being assembled now and the ship should be ready to leave within the hour.”


Rebecca Chambers had been ecstatic to learn of her involvement in the mission. Not simply because it would allow her the opportunity to see some proper action, but because it would place her in a very valuable position, one that could greatly assist her superiors in the Conglomeration of Eternal Disharmony. She’d had barely enough time to make contact with them before having to meet up with the rest of her team. Her special orders had been received and acknowledged. Observation of the situation and the MVA’s response to it was obvious. Beyond that, she’d been tasked with attempting to recruit any of the abductees they found to the CED. And, of course, if the opportunity presented itself, she was to stage some unfortunate accidents for her fellow teammates.

Rebecca groaned as she worked the butt plug back into place before tugging her pants up. The modified sex toy not only provided a pleasant bit of anal stimulation while she worked, it contained the communicator that allowed her to contact her Conglomeration contacts. She clenched her ass around the plug, re-adjusting to the feel of it, before heading out of her bunk. She quickened her pace, not wanting to be late for liftoff.


Domino had gotten used to her life being a strange myriad of being tossed into one batshit insane situation after the next. Her innate luck powers tended to keep her more or less intact, but that didn’t mean they kept her safe. Her current predicament was a prime example of that. On top of being very confused about how she’d even wound up in the Necropolis, Domino had received a clear sign from the very beginning that the new world was a hostile one. Still, her luck had blessed her with finding Alice and her ragtag group of scouts. As she’d been caught up on the situation as they knew it – lamenting the fact that despite their prolonged stay in the Necropolis, they still knew very little about why the place was the way it was or how they’d wound up there – she rationally acknowledged that heading back into the monster-infested city was probably a terrible idea. But her gut said it was the right thing to do, that staying with the group of survivors was the best course of action. And Domino always trusted her gut.

Which is why, when a tickle at the back of her brain encouraged her to ask Fuuka to use her abilities to scan ahead of them, she didn’t hesitate to voice her concerns.

Fuuka gave her a confused look. “This is the way we came,” she explained. “The monsters migrate pretty regularly, but we were just here and it was all clear.”

“Look, I may not be able to literally sense danger, but my feelings usually wind up being right,” Domino shot back, looking to Alice. “Look, just humor me on this one, okay? If I’m wrong, next dark hole we have to crawl through, I’ll go first.”

Alice shrugged. “Not gonna turn down a volunteer for taking point,” she said, looking to Fuuka. “Go ahead and scan.”

A little offended that her opinion wasn’t being given the trust she thought it disturbed, Fuuka reached out with her psychic feelers. She felt nothing at first, but she kept scanning, determined to do a thorough job so that when she turned to the grey-skinned woman she could proclaim ‘I told you so’ with supreme confidence. Fuuka’s bottom lip curled into a frown as she reached a little further down their path and felt something. It felt unlike any of the other monsters she’d detected previously, but it was definitely not friendly. “She’s right,” Fuuka admitted, not without a degree of annoyance. “There’s something waiting down there. Not sure what.”

“Good catch,” Alice told Domino. “Looks like you might be our good luck charm. Let’s find a way around it. I’d like to avoid getting into a fight, if we can help it. Fuuka, keep scanning. Let me know if you sense anything else, or our mystery guest starts moving. Everyone else, stay sharp.”


The journey from her home universe into the Necropolis did not affect Art3mis as strongly as it had previous victims. It helped that she was not only already experienced in living her life in a fictional reality, but that she’d been in the midst of exploring that fictional reality when she’d been taken. The world she’d been ported into looked nothing like any of the in-game cities she’d been too before, but she had no doubt that it was some new construct from James Halliday’s mind. Perhaps she’d bugged something out and found her way into an early access area. The place certainly looked desolate enough. A horror land, huh? That’s pretty cool, she thought. But he’s gonna have to do a whole lot better than this to scare me away from the Key Trials.

Art3mis had no clue that the world she was in was very much real and possessed a danger far greater than any she’d faced in OASIS. As her body had been plucked out of her reality, she’d been augmented and shifted to take on the visage of her in-game avatar, further pushing the narrative in her mind that she was still just in the game she’d enjoyed playing so much. That alone was enough to bolster her with confidence and bravery in spite of the strangeness surrounding her. If it’s early access, she thought. It doesn’t look like any NPCs or MOBs have been programmed in yet. But maybe there’s still loot around. Looks like it’s time for Art3mis to snag herself some fancy rares. The building she chose to start her loot hunt was at pure random, but it showed that she did not possess the same innate luck that Domino did, as the building was home to the very thing the mutant woman had gotten a bad feeling about.

The building looked like it had been a storage center before suffering some extensive fire damage. Art3mis disregarded the damage, attributing it to a mere cosmetic choice and not an indication that something violent had transpired there at a previous point. She could dig into the lore once the area was officially released. For now, she wanted the goodies. Moving past the destroyed front desk, Art3mis entered a long, narrow hall. It was pretty dark, but she could see a light at the opposite end of the hall, leading back outside. Based on the destruction lining the hall, it almost looked like some other group had already passed through it, securing the location as a hidden passage between two blocks. The only thing that didn’t line up with that notion was the large, slug-shaped mass of flesh about midway down the hall, practically blocking the way.

Looks like maybe I was wrong about no MOBs being spawned in, the red-skinned gamer girl thought, easily recognizing the giant slug as a threat. But it didn’t seem to be moving, leading her to believe that it was only a placeholder model. She didn’t have any interest in climbing over the thing to check the storage lockers behind it – it looked gooey as fuck – but she could easily clear the lockers in front of it. With her thoughts returned to all of the potential loot she could find ahead of every other OASIS player, Art3mis started her search, ducking into the first locker on the right. She didn’t find much beyond a stash of Christmas decorations, a milk crate full of old records – the vinyl kind, not the paper kind, and some clothes. For the most part, the clothes looked like generic cosmetic accessories, but she did find a pair of boots she liked. She got a crucial hint that she was no longer in the game after she replaced her footwear and realized she couldn’t store her old boots in her inventory. Art3mis passed it off as a bug, a by-product of glitching into the new area before it had been released, and left her old boots behind, confident that they’d respawn back in her inventory once she got back into the over world.

If not, I am so sending a ticket, she thought, crossing the hall to check the second locker, not even bothering to glance at the fleshy slug.

When Art3mis had stepped into the hall for the first time and observed the Fusion Slug, the Fusion Slug had observed her in return. She’d not noticed the way its thick eye stalks had swiveled to fix on her position, getting a general sense of her body and her distance from it. The creature’s bulbous body was a blend of light and dark browns, soaked in a thick gelatinous mucus. Its form was less solid than it appeared, capable of absorbing solid nutrients directly through its skin. It had found the passage through the storage center and had slithered into it, small brain recognizing that it was a prime position to capture prey. With no real means of defending itself, the Fusion Slug relied on other means of subterfuge to trap its victims. Each time Art3mis left the hall, the gooey monster moved with shocking speed, creeping forward down the hall a foot or so at a time. Each time she stepped back into the hall, the slug froze. The fact that she was largely ignoring the creature helped to keep her oblivious to its slow but steady approach.

Art3mis’s frustration was growing by the fifth locker. The place, so far, had been largely a bust. It was just the typical kind of dusty junk she’d have expected to find in a real storage center. Unused exercise machines and broken televisions and – holy shit – so many Christmas decorations. She was beginning to think that the whole area was so early access that nothing beyond a general framework, some base models, and a slew of garbage props had been all that had been designed into it so far. Still, she was determined to take full advantage of the glitch, to find something that she could take back and show off to her fellow gamers, really brag about her l33tness. Stepping out of another worthless locker, Art3mis turned to move further down the hall and nearly walked right into the Fusion Slug.

With the exaggerated features of her avatar, Art3mis’s look of surprise was comical. She let out a startled shriek, stumbling back a step. She was ashamed to admit just how much the thing had scared her, certain that it had been further down the hall when she’d first spotted it. Realization barely took hold before the slug launched itself towards her, rising up and curling the edges of its wide, flat foot around her. Art3mis let out a scream, managed to turn, taking only a single step back down the hall before the Fusion Slug dropped its considerable bulk onto her back. She collapsed beneath it, mashed hard into the ground as the thing’s goo soaked into her. She felt the cheeks of her ass and the curve of her back sink into the slug’s underside, its body forming against her as it secured a firm hold. As it reared up a second time, Art3mis found enough air to let out a second scream, arms and legs straining to pull free from the sticky mucus.

The caustic enzymes in the slug’s mucus ate away at Art3mis’s clothing. The half-dissolved fabric sloshed away from her squirming body, exposing nearly every inch of her pale-red skin. Her small breasts heaved, nipples rigid from the terror of what was happening to her. She cried out as her legs and arms bent backwards, slurped through the slug’s porous flesh and into the healthy supply of even more destructive fluids within it. Her oversized eyes bulged, howls of pain rocketing up her throat as she realized – finally – that she was not in some early access section of OASIS. She’d felt enough digital pain in the game to know the difference between the artificial construct and the real thing. Somehow, wherever she was, whatever had been done to change her body, it was all real. Her bravery and confidence were gone in an instant, sobbing pathetically as her pilfered boots melted away around her wiggling toes, followed shortly after by the toes themselves.

With its prey thoroughly snared and the absorption process started, the Fusion Slug proceeded to engage its unique form of breeding. The creature was a single-gendered organism, containing a highly adaptive seed to propagate its species. But there was no such thing as a Lady Fusion Slug. The creatures required a mate of a separate species to reproduce, using their uterus for its own purpose. Expanding its sides outwards to press against the sides of the hall and brace itself, the Fusion Slug extended its mating tendril. The slimy length slithered up the insides of Art3mis’s thighs and pushed its way into her hot cunt. The girl’s screams were unceasing and rising towards madness as she was violated deeply by the slug’s mating tool.

The burning agony of her limbs dissolving within the Fusion Slug was unlike anything Art3mis had experienced before. She heaved in air through her clenched teeth and let it out as fresh screams, hopelessly trapped as the creature raped her. She could feel the slime oozing through her short red hair, tickling her scalp. Fresh terror spiked through her, realizing that her head was being tugged back, into the terrible monster. The slippery lips of the slug’s parting skin crept over the top of Art3mis’s forehead and across her cheeks. She managed one last scream as the mating tendril pierced her cervix and invaded her uterus. The volume of the scream became muted as her head was slurped into the slug’s body, skin lips closing around her slender neck.

Only Art3mis’s torso was left protruding from the slug, limbs already eaten away and the stumps fused to its body. Her torso wiggled with agonized fear, perky tits jumping and jiggling as her stomach muscles clenched up. The muffled howling coming from her absorbed head became a wet series of gurgles as the destructive goo within the creature continued to break her down. Art3mis’s final moments of life were filled with a pure pain, a cruel and constant notice that she’d been incredibly wrong about where she’d been taken. Her eyes popped and her tongue swirled down the back of her throat, followed by the sizzling remnants of a few teeth. Her torso entered into a spastic shuddering as her brain dissolved, moments before her softened skull caved in on itself. The skin of her neck, irritated to a brighter shade of red by the digestive burning she was suffering through, became one with the slug’s skin lips. As her head finished wasting away into a nutritious slop for the Fusion Slug to absorb, the girl became a vestigial growth along the underside of the creature serving only a single reproductive purpose.

Art3mis’s headless, limbless torso sank a bit further into the slug’s underside, but not so deep to vanish completely. The mating tendril pumped into her dead snatch, the tip ticking along the walls of her uterus as it neared its release. The slime oozed into her flesh through her back, breaking down her bones and unnecessary organs. Her remaining skin flattened out across the slug’s massive foot, leaving behind only the vague protrusions of her breasts and the much more significant protrusion of her uterus as it was filled with the Fusion Slug’s potent, non-discriminatory seed. The creature eased back down, concealing all evidence of its latest victim. It would keep the impregnated womb hidden and safe while the gestation of a new life took place. When the new Fusion Slug was ready to be born, it would rise up again, expelling Art3mis’s stolen womb so that it could hatch.


Alice and the others successfully circumvented any chance of encountering the Fusion Slug, blissfully unaware at how easy it would have been for them to handle the creature, or how their deviation in path had led to Art3mis’s terrible fate. The deviation did mean they were dealing with a route that wasn’t nearly as well scouted or cleared out. Further choices had to be made to determine the best course of action. Domino suggested, largely on a whim, that they continue to use the city’s smaller streets to make their way back to the Bunker. Fuuka, even more committed to scanning their path for potential threats, countered – maybe just a little too smugly – that she could sense something else on the streets. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, just that it felt ‘squiggly’ and reminded her on some level of the Helliphants. Renamon pointed out that they could use the highway as a viable route, citing the height advantage it would give them over potential threats lurking through the streets. It wasn’t a terrible idea, considering the highway was the most direct path towards the Bunker. Still, there wasn’t much in the way of cover up there. Homura voiced her vote that they take advantage of the most direct path, but Alice wasn’t so easily swayed.

It had been obvious that Fuuka’s ego had taken a hit when Domino had proved her wrong, but Alice doubted the girl would make up a threat just to get back at her. Still, Domino’s instincts seemed to be scary good. An unknown threat we know about, or the potential threat of something we don’t know anything about, she pondered. What the hell’s the best option?


Maybe it was due to their prolonged stay underground, but the lure of the illuminated tunnel was too strong to resist. It was easy for Jack to rationalize her decision. The presence of a light might mean some kind of trap, but it would be better to be able to see any potential threats than to blunder into the darkness where anything could be waiting. Not that she seemed to have need of that rationalization. The others were more than willing to take the light path and be thankful for it. After the disastrous assault on the Bunker and the frantic escape from it, everyone in the group was on edge. They needed some kind of relief, even if it came from something as stupid as a bit of extra light. They started down the tunnel, following the gentle bend, staying alert, despite the pleasant warmth of the glow emanating towards them.

The source of the light came into view as they trekked further along the bending tunnel. It appeared to be some kind of organic, oversized lightbulb, suspended down through an overhead tunnel. Whatever warm fuzzies Jack had been feeling about the light vanished. She had no reason to trust anything organic in the Necropolis, even as far as the occasional fellow survivor. The light pulsed faintly, producing a greater hypnotic effect to try to sooth any that looked upon it. Clearly, it was some kind of trap. But, just like she’d hoped, the presence of the light – even if it was for a dark purpose – allowed them to see the trap clearly for what it was. Only a fucking idiot would walk right up to that and start poking it, she thought. But despite its large, bulbous nature, there was enough room to slide past it and continue down the tunnel.

“Everybody steer clear of the flesh light,” Jack called to the others, cringing at her unintentional sex toy reference. A cruel smirk played across her face, glancing back to one of her group in particular. “Hey, Joy. Why don’t you go poke it?”

The blonde redneck gave her a glare and a middle finger but didn’t fall for the obvious bait.

Jack let it go, along with the urge to shove the woman into the thing. “Everybody just move slow. It’ll be fine.”

It didn’t take long before Jack was regretting those words. Either due to bad luck or sadistic strategy, the group was only halfway past the pulsing bulb when they were interrupted by a hungry pack of undead lumbering down a dark side tunnel towards them. Tense chaos erupted in the tunnel, the group of survivors dancing between avoiding the bulb and dispatching the zombies. Jack divided her focus, doing her best to guide the others past the obvious lure while keeping them from getting snagged by any of the zombies pouring out of the side tunnel. “Why the fuck can’t anything ever be simple?” she growled, emptying a load from her shotgun into the snarling, decayed face of a topless woman who’d once been ace reporter Lois Lane until she’d found herself teleported into the midst of an underground zombie gangbang. The only statements she’d managed to get from her unexpected interviewees was their cold, corrupt cum forced into her various orifices until she’d become one of them. Jack’s shot put an end to her unlife, splattering her previously pretty face across the tunnel wall.

Samus did her best to lend Jack some assistance in organizing the group and getting them through the ordeal, but the sight of a pack of ravenous living dead surging out of a dark tunnel stirred too many recent memories. Uneasiness stirred deep in her gut, remembering how the rigid lengths of undead flesh had felt as she’d been violated. She managed to fight off the memories, and the current threat, but her distraction came at a cost. One of the rotting bags of meat had managed to slip past her, advancing on Parasoul as she was trying to squeeze past the glowing bulb. Samus noticed her mistake, calling out to the woman to warn her. Parasoul turned to spot the zombie, pulling her weaponized umbrella up to deliver a powerful strike to the dead man’s chin that tore his head away from his neck. But in the process, she lost her balance and stumbled backwards, directly into the bulb.

The thin layer of adhesive sap coating the outer layer of the fleshy bulb clung to Parasoul’s backside. She tried to pull herself free, pulling Kreig up to get a shot at the bulb’s thick stem, but before she could fire off an attack, the bulb retracted with shocking swiftness. She let out a shriek as she was hoisted off her feet and up the overhead tunnel, her umbrella slipping from her fingers and dropping to the tunnel floor. The other survivors barely caught a glimpse of her kicking legs before she was dragged completely out of sight, leaving them one more member down and still finishing off the last of the tunnel zombies with significantly less light to aid them.

Parasoul’s squirming body bounced and scrapped against the wall of the tunnel as she was plucked upwards. Her clothing was filthy and tattered by the time she was pulled into the fleshy alcove where the Angler Grinder had grown. Technically, the cavity was inside the creature, but it served only as the preparation room for any unlucky victims it managed to snare with one of its glowing lures. While the others lost their source of light, Parasoul found herself with far too much of it. She had a clear view of the monster that she’d stumbled into the clutches of, the walls a blend of dark crimson and yellow sinew, stretched taut. Tendrils grew from the walls, tingled lines of thick flesh, some with large glow bulbs sprouting from the tips, others still developing their luminescent appendages, and still more lacking any source of illumination. At the uppermost part of the alcove was a single, small orifice, lined with thick, sharp teeth that fit poorly together but clicked with hungry excitement as she arrived.

The tendrils converged on Parasoul’s struggling form, working their way into her already tattered clothing. She tried to fight them off as they tore through the fabric, stripping her bare, but her lack of weapon made it difficult, as did her limited mobility due to still being glued to the glowing lure bulb. Her thoughts were too consumed with the horror that awaited her and the issue of trying to escape her almost certain death to spare any consideration for the others, or even to assign any of them any blame in her stumbling into the lure. Movement became more troublesome as the harder she struggled, the more she unintentionally pressed herself against the sticky sap, securing her in place even more. By the time she’d been reduced to wearing nothing more than her black loafers, Parasoul had no chance of offering even the most meager of resistance to the voracious and amorous Angler Grinder.

The young woman let out a squeal of dismay as the thick tip of one tentacle began to grind against the cleft of her cunt, forcefully stimulating her until her body responded. The growing dampness of her pussy brought a blush of shame to Parasoul’s cheeks, but the shame didn’t last long. As the tendril shoved its way into her tightly clenched snatch, she felt only pain. Her scream echoed off the fleshy walls of the alcove, driving the tentacles into a wild frenzy. They dragged across her body, smacking against her full breasts and tangling in her disheveled hair. The tendril driving its way into the warm, unwilling embrace of her pussy mashed hard against her cervix, creating a subtle bulge against the lowest point of her abdomen each time it rammed into her. Her bulging eyes gushed tears as her cervix gave way, allowing the tentacle to hammer deeper into her body. Her muscles – glistening from trickles of sap and the sweat creeping out of her – tensed, straining hard against the unbreakable hold the Angler Grinder had on her.

Parasoul’s screams choked off as a second tendril shoved its way into her open mouth, punching its way down her throat. She gagged around the girth and the taste of putrid earth and raw flesh. A spray of watery vomit escaped her stretched lips and squirted from her flared nostrils as the violent oral penetration got the better of her. Her abs clenched as she heaved, occasionally deformed by the tentacle wildly fucking her slippery cunt. Parasoul’s hands bent forward, fingers clawing at the air, the only real movement she could make. Her curling digits only encouraged another set of tendrils to slip into her grip. She clutched the girths as hard as she could, hoping to cause the creature some form of discomfort but only really managing to provide it a couple of tight handjobs as it dragged its tentacles back and forth against her soft palms.

Pinned to the glowing bulb and utterly helpless, Parasoul suffered the violent assault of the tentacles. She managed an agonized gurgle as a second vine-like appendage squeezed into her already widely stretched pussy. Another ropey length circled around the mounds of her tits, pulling them together so that it could slide the bulbous protrusion of its half-formed glow lure through her cleavage. Her suffering worsened as one managed to slide in between her and the lure bulb, wiggling its way through the crack of her ass and forcing its way into her ass. The tendril in her mouth pulled free, letting her gasp down air and released a horrified scream as her long legs were pried away from the bulb, leaving behind a few bloody patches of skin in their wake. Her legs, held securely by the tentacles looped around her ankles, were lifted upwards, held in a V-shape against her shoulders to allow easier access to her lower holes.

The hive of horny tentacles ravaged Parasoul’s defenseless body, plunging into her various orifices, rubbing across her soft flesh, leaving her coated in their excretions. She managed to tilt her head forward far enough to watch a thick, partially developed lure bulb take aim at her gaping asshole. Her head snapped back as a fresh tendril snaked its way into her mouth, but she had no trouble feeling the pain as her aching sphincter stretched slowly around the large bulb. Her eyes rolled back, choking on her scream as her anus tore. She felt overly fully as the bulb was driven deeper into her bowels. The rough face fucking ended with a quick spurt of sickly sweet sap down her gullet before her mouth was freed and she was able to look down at the destruction being done to her. She let out a pathetic half-wail, half-sob as she stared at her bulging gut, seeing the luminescence of the lure bulb shining through her tightly stretched skin.

As Parasoul’s holes grew looser and the Angler Grinder’s lust diminished, the creature’s hunger stirred. The woman had been thoroughly fucked into a daze by that point, but she was still aware enough to feel the pain of being peeled away from the lure bulb. She let out a hoarse scream as she was pulled free, held snugly in the grip of a number of the wicked tendrils. The Angler Grinder possessed no face to give Parasoul a hint of its amusement, but the excited chattering of its teeth gave her a pretty good idea of what was about to happen to her. It didn’t keep her from letting out a shocked cry as the tentacles twisted her upper and lower halves in opposite directions. Her spine snapped and her skin stretched before she was brutally ripped in half. The pair of tentacles looped around Parasoul’s ankles began a short game of tug of war with her lower half, ending in a sharp snap as her pelvis gave out and her limbs separated from one another. She managed a weak scream as her right arm was plucked from its socket and torn away. The scream rose in strength and volume as the remainder of her upper body was hoisted higher, up to the waiting maw above her. The teeth stretched open as wide as they could as the tentacle forced her screaming face between them. With a meaty crunch, Parasoul’s scream – and life – came to an end as the bulk of her head was bitten off.

The woman’s various gory remains were dropped to the floor of the Angler Grinder’s alcove. The tentacles continued to find ways to fuck her as the creature leisurely chewed at the mouthful of her head. One partially deflated eye was left impaled on a thin tooth. A tendril slithered across Parasoul’s flopping tongue before dipping into the bloody hole of esophagus. Another tightened around her left breast until the mound of fat and flesh tore away. The pilfered tit became the Angler Grinder’s next meal. When it finished with that tasty treat, the creature tore the woman’s right leg in half, pulling the bloody stump of her calf into its mouth. Sharp teeth shredded her flesh and crunched through her bone as the half-a-leg slowly sank into the maw. Her black loafer was pulled away from her foot to spare the monster the foul taste of the footwear. Her limp toes dangled as they crept further up, finally vanishing into the Angler Grinder’s mouth with a quick chomp.


The loss of light – as well as one of their own – had doused Jack and the rest of her group into a frightened state, but they managed to hold it together long enough to dispatch the last of the zombies. Softly whispered words of confusion and fear started to creep towards panic. Jack wasn’t feeling much better, but she’d been through too much shit to let them all fall apart now.

“Alright, cut the shit,” she snapped. “So it’s dark. So what?”

The guilt of having any part in Parasoul’s certain death spurred Samus into lending her own assistance. “We need to get another light source. Does anyone have anything?” She figured focusing on a simple, yet vitally important, task would give them all a much needed distraction.

“My disk,” Quora said, reaching to pull it from her back. Even in the dark, she had no trouble activating it. The neon blue glow that emanated from it didn’t provide nearly enough light as the lure bulb had, but they could at least see where they were going with it. It unfortunately also allowed them enough light to identify what the dripping sound they’d been hearing was. Thick droplets of blood spattered from the vertical tunnel Parasoul had been pulled into, creating a spreading pool on the floor. Almost as if whatever monster lurked up there could sense the new source of light, a chunk of what looked like a partially eaten kidney dropped from the hole and splattered into the pool. It effectively dashed any dwindling thoughts of perhaps Parasoul making it back to them, or the even more foolish concept of trying to rescue her. It also got the group highly motivated to keep moving down the tunnel.

The remainder of the trip down the now dark tunnel was thankfully uneventful. They reached an end point leading into an area that still retained power. The yellowed lightbulbs cast a sickly glow across the traumatized survivors, but at least they didn’t have to worry about any of the bulbs snaring them into the clutches of some nightmare creature. Jack kept everyone moving with Samus’s help, neither of them thinking a rest would be a good idea. Parasoul’s rapid abduction and death was still too fresh in everyone’s minds. If they slowed down to dwell on it now, they might never get moving again.

The next crossroads came far too soon, proving once again that the Necropolis was a son of a bitch fuckhead, as far as Jack was concerned. The path ahead had suffered some damage. They could make it through easily enough, but the tunnel had been opened up to the street above. She couldn’t see anything snooping around the opening, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way long enough for them to pass through the exposed section. A quick check of the area offered up only one alternative, and it wasn’t any better. The crawlspace was safe from whatever elements lurked on the street above, but it was tight enough that they’d have to shimmy their way from one end to the other. If something attacked them from behind, there wouldn’t be much they could do about it. The same went for if something came at them from the front.

Two shit choices, but Jack knew she had to make a decision fast, before stagnation led to their ultimate downfall.


Azura knew that the last few performances she gave to the injured and exhausted survivors had not been her best, but they still provided some degree of restorative aid. With her work done and her energy thoroughly sapped from the physical and magical exertion she’d expelled, she turned to her dancing companion. Shantae’s sensual movements had done little beyond afford the survivors something nice to look at, but Azura appreciated the young woman’s assistance all the same. As her fatigue had built, she’d found the strength to push on thanks to Shantae dancing just beside her. She could only hope the woman’s performances had been equally motivating to the others. Azura thanked Shantae for her help before breaking away from the main group.

Hiding the full extent of how drained she was had only further drained Azura. She didn’t want the others to see just how weak she was, but she needed rest. She found a small jewelry store that seemed vacant and slipped inside, ducking behind a display counter. Apparently safe from prying eyes, Azura let her exhaustion flow into her. She nearly collapsed onto her ass, leaning back against the counter and letting her head dip forward, eyes drifting closed. She could sense how easy it would be for her to sleep, but the persistent threat of the Necropolis kept her clinging to consciousness. Azura doubted she’d be able to keep the fight up for long. She also knew she would need to eat to really restore her energy, but she simply lacked the strength to get anything from their small cache of supplies.


The concerned voice roused the woman from her semi-sleeping state. She strained to open her eyes, looking up to see Baroness standing over her, energy bar in hand and extended towards her. “You look awful,” she said. “Come on, you need to eat.”

Azura accepted the gift. When she struggled to find the leverage to tear open the packaging, Baroness did it for her without comment. She nodded her thanks and started to nibble at the protein bar. The urge to cram the whole thing into her mouth was strong, but she knew it would only make her sick. They were far too low on supplies to waste precious food that way. She still wanted to be alone, but her secret was apparently out. It seemed rude to ask Baroness to leave after she’d offered the much needed assistance. So instead, she sat quietly, recovering her stamina as best she could as she enjoyed the small, simple meal.

“Why do you do it?” Baroness asked, finally breaking the thick silence between them but keeping her voice low. “Push yourself so hard?”

Azura responded with a meager shrug, chewing away another bite of protein bar. “I want to help, in any way I can. My healing abilities are limited, and they come at a cost, but it’s the right thing to do.”

Baroness considered her words, nodding slowly. “It’s very noble of you,” she concluded. She sat down beside Azura, turning to give her face a curious look. “In that case, I imagine you must hate Azula.”

The conclusion brought a frown of confusion to Azura’s face. She swallowed her bite of food and turned to look at the woman beside her. “What do you mean? I can hardly blame her for the situation we’re facing. She didn’t bring us here. She didn’t make these monsters. I suspect she’s doing the best she can to keep us all alive.”

Baroness tilted her head to the side, unconvinced. “Is she, though? Were any of the Bunker leaders? I mean, granted, this is an impossible situation. I don’t envy anyone put in charge of it. And maybe it’s just hindsight, but you really have to look at all they’ve done for us and wonder if they were ever the right people to lead us to any kind of survival, any kind of victory.” She lifted a hand, counting out her points on her fingers. “In all the time we were locked up in the Bunker, they made little if any progress in combating the monstrosities of this city, or finding a way out. They let that sadistic whore of a woman Bathory in, when any idiot could take one look at her and see that whatever benefits she might provide paled in comparison to the danger she represented. They even gave her a position of power. And it wasn’t long after that before the disappearances started happening. So many convenient excuses… but we both know how tightly they kept that place locked up, how important it was for them that no one went out unless directed. The only one I know of who broke those rules was Anna, and she wouldn’t have let anyone in on her secret passage. Trust me, I tried, more than once, to get her to tell me. Do you really think she would tell some homesick or suicidal survivor?”

Baroness’s points were valid, but not enough to sway Azura completely. “I don’t know what happened to the ones who went missing. But connecting them with Bathory’s arrival doesn’t mean she was necessarily guilty of whatever happened to them.”

“Perhaps not, but it is quite the coincidence,” Baroness pressed. “What about the mismanagement of the defense of the Bunker? They – Azula, in particular – were more than happy to allow a panic to break out. Rampant looting. An unsanctioned explosion in the Bunker, seemingly from Bathory’s private lab. Disposing of evidence, perhaps? And then there was the lynching. People driven into such a panic that they strung up one of our own with little hesitation.”

The mention of the lynching cut through Azura’s fatigue and doubt. She turned to look at Baroness. “I thought that was just a rumor. The fear talking.”

The dark-haired woman looked solemnly at Azura, shaking her head. “It happened. I was there. I’d arrived too late to stop it, to help, but I saw that poor girl’s life end. Saw the way the mob cheered it on.” She let the silence complete her argument, letting them both dwell in that dark thought. “That was the moment I realized just how badly we’d been misled. Just how badly the women we’d chosen to lead us, to keep us safe, had failed us.” She let Azura sit with that for a few more moments, seeing the leeway she was making. But her task was just as tactical as any battlefield. She needed to manage her potential recruit with care.

“I’m not saying they meant to,” Baroness insisted. “Or that they were bad from the start. They simply were not the right women for the job. Emily was quite adept at training people to defend themselves, in her own way. Satsuki had a harshness about her, but she was fair in her judgment. Elsa and Daenerys were too young and too inexperienced to be effective leaders, but they at least showed that, above all else, they did genuinely care about the greater good.” She let her voice drift off, leaving an obscenely pregnant pause in her words before continuing to her main selling point. “But Azula…” She shook her head, let out a sad sigh that she thought was quite convincing. “I have stood by her side, because I want her to do the right thing, to be the woman we all hope she is, but it’s only afforded me a front row seat to her actions. We’ve all trusted her perhaps a little too much, afforded her certain leeway because she was one of the first to find the Bunker. But I can tell you, with certainty, that she has taken advantage of the power she has, used it for her own means. I can’t say she won’t lead us somewhere safe, but I can guarantee you we will suffer far more losses than we need to along the way. Because, to her, we are all expendable, just a living shield to keep her safe.”

Azura was teetering on the edge, so close to agreeing with her. She just needed one more little push. One last reason to turn on their current leader. Baroness had just the sort of juicy nugget required. All it needed was a bit of reshaping. “When you were out there dancing for the others, did you notice anyone was missing?”

Azura thought about it, recalling the many faces she’d performed for, compared those faces to the ones she’d seen escaping the bunker with them. It was difficult. The escape had been so frantic and their group had been so big. But she did seem to recall seeing someone outside the Bunker but not in the mall. “Minako,” she gasped. “Did she fall behind? We should send someone to…”

Baroness cut her off, shaking her head. “No point. I’ve been keeping a close eye on Azula since leaving the Bunker. She relies on me for certain things, but I caught her sneaking away, arranging for Minako to be used as bait to get the horde off our scent. I couldn’t dare reveal what I knew then. She’d have had me used as bait alongside the poor girl. I tried to make a more direct interference, reach her before Azula’s pair of cohorts could, but by the time I could find where she was, it was already too late. She’s sacrificing us like pawns, Azura. If she’d seen how much you drained yourself helping the others, who knows what she might do about it? Do you see? Do you see why we need to get rid of her? Like I said, I do not envy the role of leadership, but I cannot stand idly by while she leads us into ruin.”

Azura nodded slowly, suddenly looking even more tired. “You’re right,” she agreed. “But we can’t just kill her. That would make us no better than she is. You have to promise me we’ll at least try to talk her into stepping down.”

Baroness made sure her smile was a strained, humorless one. “That is a I promise I can easily make,” she replied. “I just hope she sees things our way and doesn’t try to put up a fight. If she does… We might not have a choice.” Despite her assurances, Baroness had no intention of letting Azula live. If her coup was a success, she would need to make an example of the previous leadership, and ensure that she would not be overthrown by an enemy she’d already vanquished once before. “I still have arrangements to make. I need to see who else in the group feels the way we do. But you will know when the time has come. Be prepared. Until then, get your rest.”

Baroness left Azura and the jewelry shop with a fresh confidence in her swagger. She caught the eyes of Nena and Lola and gave them a nod, signaling that her little talk had been a success. Returning to Azula’s side, she offered no hint of her oncoming betrayal as she helped the woman organize the group of survivors and their supplies, planning the next stage of their journey to the airport. The scouting and looting pairs began to return. Their task seemed partially successful, although Lioness and Black Cat failed to come back. Astrid and Hinata seemed to have also met with an unfortunate end. The recon groups reported in that they’d managed to secure a clear path from the mall to the hospital, but they’d also spotted a sizable horde making their way towards the mall. They could not afford to wait around for the missing pairs to make their return. The group was advised of what was happening, mostly the broad strokes. Asuna Yuuki was sent to collect Azura from the jewelry store.

“Is she doing okay?” Azula asked Baroness. “I noticed you go in there after her. If there’s a problem, I need to know about it. Her abilities are too valuable.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Baroness assured her. “Azura will do what’s right. She understands everything that’s at stake.” She stifled the sly grin that ached beneath the surface of her face, far too amused by the double-meaning behind the seemingly innocent exchange.


Outside of orifices on her own body or on those of her lovers, Jack wasn’t a fan of cramped spaces. The natural light pouring in from the partially open tunnel also was a much needed escape from the darkness they’d been plunged into after Parasoul had been taken. She wasn’t sure how much ground they’d travelled since entering the sewer, but she knew it had to be enough that the monsters that had chased them underground had to be long gone. The possibility that there were other creatures waiting up above to tear them to pieces either before or after brutally raping them was strong, but every damn choice was a risk. With that in mind, Jack settled on the option that made her skin crawl the least. She passed her decision on to the others.

“Everyone keep your eyes open,” she told them. “We move slow so we don’t attract any attention, but the second anyone sees anything peeking its head into the tunnel, we haul ass.” It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the best she could come up with. She glanced to Samus. “That sound good to you?” The second opinion wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to keep pushing the woman to just take charge already.

The problem was, although she was marginally less rough around the edges than Jack, Samus had about as much experience leading a group as the tattooed woman. She preferred working alone for the exact reason Jack didn’t want to remain in charge. Making choices that could – most likely would – get other people killed wasn’t something she regarded as fun. So she offered Jack a shrug and a simple, “Yep.” She had every intention of doing what she could to help, but she’d already barely gotten through a close encounter with the Legions. She wasn’t keen on repeating the experience to test her luck even further. She certainly didn’t want the responsibility of being held accountable for decisions when she might have to be a bit cold-hearted to ensure she stayed alive.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, bitch, Jack thought, rolling her eyes and moving into the damaged tunnel. Chunks of asphalt littered the tunnel floor. Thankfully, none of them were large enough to slow down their progress much, but there was no shortage of tripping hazards. The group’s focus largely fixed on the open air above them. After being underground for so long, the sight of the sky should have been soothing, but it only felt like a threat. With the stench of decay permeating the Necropolis, they weren’t even given the benefit of some fresh air. The sky looked clear, but each of the women knew that could change at any moment. The open top of the tunnel wasn’t large enough to allow some of the larger monsters to drop into the sewer with them, but a Hell Flyer or two would have no trouble swooping down and plucking them into their clutches.

The fleshy shuffling sound wasn’t very loud at first, but the survivors heard it. Eyes and weapons trained on the opening above them, shifting back and forth as they waited with rising tension for whatever the hell was coming towards them. A silent hope that whatever it was would simply pass them by without noticing the open tunnel permeated the group, along with a dreadful certainty that they weren’t that lucky. Their fears were proven accurate as the creature came into view, dragging itself forward towards the start of the tunnel behind them. Bringing up the rear, Supergirl was the first to spot the thing. The abomination of bulging, twisted flesh was enough to quicken her step and raise her pulse to alarming levels. She called out to the others, but they’d already seen what she’d seen.

The Doomgape wasn’t the largest of the Necropolis monsters, but it was big enough to be serious threat. But it was the creature’s grotesque design that was the most frightening. There wasn’t a nightmare in the Necropolis that wasn’t a fan of eating its prey in some fashion or another. The Doomgape seemed designed exclusively for eating. The majority of its body was dominated by a massive mouth, gnarled yellow teeth sprouting from its gums. The teeth were roughly the size of an average human’s forearm. A spear-like tongue whipped about from deep in the thing’s gullet, sweeping from side to side, tasting the air for fresh prey. Apart from the mouth, the Doomgape only grew more disturbing. Wrinkled, lumpy flesh – a sickly yellowish hue – made up the portion of its body that wasn’t used for eating. Dozens of scrawny, malformed arms grew from the thing’s sides and back, curling fingers stretching out to latch onto solid ground and drag its significant bulk along. There was no sign of eyes on the thing, but there was no doubt that it somehow could sense them.

Dragging itself over the open tunnel, the Doomgape lost its grip momentarily. Its fat bulk slid into the tunnel, blocking the way back. With a wall of gnashing teeth now behind them, none of the women had any desire to go that way. Despite the tight squeeze and the scrawny state of its arms, the Doomgape managed to keep dragging itself forward, closing the distance towards the group with gradual but persistent speed. The women with projectile weapons made their way to the rear, unloading into the thing’s gaping mouth. Despite its bulbous appearance, the Doomgape’s flesh was hardened, resisting their attacks and showing no signs of damage. Killing it might have been possible, but it wouldn’t be easy. Jack called off the attack. “Everybody move your asses!” she yelled to the others, leading by example as she pushed her way back to the front.

Outpacing the Doomgape wasn’t an issue, even with the rubble littering the tunnel floor. The problem came at the end of the open passage. The damaged tunnel terminated at a solid door, held shut by a mechanical lock. The control panel beside it had power, but it demanded an absurdly long keycode before it would allow them access further into the sewers. Jack snagged Ellie by the arm, tugging her towards the door.

“Open it,” she demanded.

Ellie gave the panel a look, frustration mixing with the fear already on her face. “I… can’t. It would take too long.”

Quorra moved in beside the pair, looking the mechanism over. “My disc,” she offered. “It should be able to brute force a solution.”

“How long?” Jack asked her.

Quorra didn’t have a real answer. “Hopefully, not long.”

Jack nodded. It was the best option they had. “Do it.” She turned back to the others. Everyone was crowded up at the tunnel’s exit. The Doomgape was still a good ways behind them, but growing closer with each passing moment. She looked over her choices, choosing fast, almost on a whim. “Taki, Supergirl, Samus,” she called to them. “Buy us some time.” She had no idea how they’d do it, but that wasn’t her problem anymore. It was theirs. Delegation, she thought. That’s what leaders do, right?

Of the three, only Samus had a gun, but that didn’t stop Supergirl or Taki from doing as they were told. The trio moved to the rear of the group, Samus staying the furthest back to resume shooting at the monster. Supergirl and Taki moved in closer, staying just out of range of the Doomgape’s swiping tongue. With nothing but their fists to fight with, Supergirl found a way to aid the distraction, scooping up a hefty chunk of asphalt and hurling it towards the creature. The Doomgape snapped its hungry jaws closed, crushing the piece of debris into pebbles. The taste didn’t seem to satisfy the creature, but it did slow its progress just a bit. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to encourage Taki to join in, grabbing up a piece of rubble and hurling it at the monster. Supergirl and Taki took turns grabbing and throwing, dancing from side to side, ducking under the long tongue as it strained to find them.

It took several long minutes for Quorra’s disc to crack through the door control’s security. The menu flashed green, confirming the code before allowing them to open the door. It slid to the side, revealing the passage beyond. Jack was very thankful that there hadn’t been a group of zombies or other creatures waiting for them on the other side. “Door’s open!” she yelled back before ushering Quorra through. She went in next, not wanting to leave the woman alone in an unexplored area. It looked safe enough, but there was no telling how long that would last. The group piled through the door one at a time. Supergirl, Samus, and Taki began to work their way back, half-focused on retreat, half-focused on keeping the Doomgape at bay. A soft dinging from the door was all the warning it gave before it began to slide closed again. “Hurry the fuck up!” Jack yelled at the three women still on the wrong side of the door.

The sight of their escape route sealing back up was more than enough motivation to get the women running. Samus reached the passage first, darting through without a second thought. Supergirl got there next. The door was already more than halfway closed, forcing her to turn to the side and slide through. She turned back, extending an arm through the shrinking passage towards Taki. “C’mon, you can make it!”

Taki reached the door, grabbing hold of Supergirl’s outstretched hand. She twisted to the side, knowing it was going to be a painful squeeze through the narrow gap but determined to make it. Her eyes lit up with horror as her progress stuttered to a stop. She looked down, letting out a groan of dismay as she saw the Doomgape’s slithering tongue looped tightly around her belly. Her hands shot out, one still gripping Supergirl’s while the other hooked around the side of the door, straining to pull herself free. The tongue tightened around her, securing its hold before yanking her backwards. Taki let out a scream as her hands slipped, legs kicking up in front of her as she was hauled towards the hungry creature. Her pleading face stared into Supergirl’s shocked eyes. The blonde heroine barely managed to yank her arm back through the closing door, saving her limb but losing sight of Taki.

Supergirl moved to the control panel on the other side, finding it locked again. She turned to Quorra. “Get it open again,” she insisted.

Quorra was just as distressed as Supergirl, but she hesitated, looking to Jack.

Jack shook her head. “We can’t,” she decided. “If that thing manages to follow us in here, we’re going to be in a much worse state.” She looked to Supergirl. “I’m sorry. I can’t let that happen.”

Supergirl looked from Jack to the door, face scrunching up with frustrated misery. “But… we’ve already lost so much.” She struggled to keep her tears in check, but it wasn’t a fight she was winning. “When does it stop? When do we make a stand?”

Jack sighed, stepped closer to the woman. I really hate this shit, she thought as she did her best to place a comforting hand on Supergirl’s shoulder. “We make a stand when it’s not guaranteed to get us all killed. Until then, all we can do is keep pushing forward. Try to make sure that none of their deaths were in vain.” The words felt clunky in Jack’s mouth, even clunkier passing her lips, but she realized something strange. She actually believed them. She’d been on the receiving end of a number of Commander Shepard’s pep talks before being snatched into the Necropolis. They’d always sounded like sappy bullshit. Now that she was the one spewing out the sappy bullshit, she realized that – sometimes – it was the only thing you could do.


In the time it had taken Jack to spew her sappy bullshit, the Doomgape had pulled Taki into its clutches. She still faced the sealed door, the shock of her failure to escape weighing down on her as her limbs were snared by several of the creature’s hands. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she stared hard at the closed door, hoping the others would come back for her. She wasn’t dead yet. They had to know that. Even if they didn’t, she believed they had to try to come back for her. She understood why they’d not attempted to rescue Parasoul. There’d been zombies. She’d been taken so fast, faster than she’d been taken. Getting up the vertical tunnel would have been next to impossible. But the only thing between her and potential salvation was a stupid door. And just like nearly every other creature in the Necropolis, the Doomgape seemed eager to play with its food. Which meant there was time. She could be rescued.

At least, that was the desperate hope Taki clung to, unaware that the others were already putting distance between themselves and the sealed door. The tongue loosened from around her waist, sliding along her body. She whimpered as the tip of the appendage reached her face, lapping up her tears and sweat. She gagged as it pushed into her mouth briefly, tasting the putrid flavor of its saliva on her tongue. The Doomgape sampled Taki’s flavor thoroughly, finding it enjoyed her bare flesh significantly more than the skin-tight bodysuit she wore. Sharp barbs protruded from the tip of the creature’s tongue, snagging the fabric and tearing through it. Being blind, the Doomgape wasn’t skillful in its disrobing of the woman, but it didn’t have to be. The bulk of her outfit was reduced to tatters, shallow scratches etched across the tops of her breasts and along her thighs. The barbs retracted to prevent any further damage to her body as the Doomgape resumed licking Taki’s body. It slid through her cleavage and under the mounds of her heaving breasts, enjoying the sweat it found there. It dipped into her shallow bellybutton, finding a tasty nugget of lint. But then the tongue slipped between Taki’s parted thighs and the Doomgape found the woman’s true flavor.

The tip of the monster’s tongue nuzzled into the cleft of Taki’s cunt lips, dragging back and forth with growing force. Strain crept across the woman’s face as she struggled against the unwanted pleasure of the stimulation, but she could do nothing to keep the flow of her juices from leaking out onto the waiting tongue. The taste of her cunt honey excited the Doomgape, encouraging the thing to lap across her folds with quicker strokes. Taki panted and whined, limbs straining against the grip of the hands holding her up. She gasped as the slender end of the tongue wiggled its way into her snatch, curling about to explore every inch of her tight, shuddering pussy. Taki’s nipples stiffened with arousal. Her head rolled back, eyes squeezing shut as she fought back the oncoming orgasm tightening in her loins, barely aware of the thin line of drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, horrified at just how good the thorough exploration of her cunt felt. Taki opened her eyes, staring at the door, seeing it was still shut. They had to hurry. They had to rescue her before the monster made her cum. She didn’t want to experience such an embarrassing fate. It would have been better to be eaten outright. At least there would have been some dignity in that. Not much, but certainly more than being forced to cum over the creature’s probing tongue.

But the others were long gone, already certain that Taki was dead. The woman shuddered in the Doomgape’s grip, breath quickening as her pleasure edged dangerously close to orgasm. She kept fighting right until the end. The tidal wave of ecstasy that finally ripped through her was all the more powerful because of how badly she’d fought to resist it. Taki’s mouth gaped open, howling out her release as her cunt gushed fluids across the squirming tongue. Her muscles snapped tense, breasts jiggling from the rapid thudding of her heart. Her buttocks tightened, hips jerking against the tongue fucking her snatch with animalistic motions. When the orgasm finally passed, Taki’s head drooped forward, gasping for air and drenched in sweat. She’d been beaten into a humiliating defeat, left feeling filthy and hopeless.

Taki released a weak groan as the tongue slithered free of her quivering cunt. She was still recovering from the powerful release when the hands holding her flung her backwards, into the Doomgape’s waiting mouth. She gasped, sucking in enough air to scream, but her pleasure-dulled mind reacted too slowly to release the shriek. The massive mouth snapped shut around her, teeth tearing through her soft meat and crunching through her bones. A couple of long teeth pushed through her brown hair and punched through her skull, impaling her brain before driving her pathetic face into a lower set of teeth, destroying her head completely. One outstretched arm – the same one that had been holding onto Supergirl’s hand – was severed and flung free of the gnashing teeth. Her breasts exploded under the force of the bite, spewing blood and fat onto the creature’s wildly wagging tongue. Her thick thighs were diced to gory ribbons, twitching toes sliding down the Doomgape’s gullet. Tangles of the woman’s steaming viscera became trapped between the chomping teeth, chewed into more manageable lengths before being slurped down like thick, bloody lengths of spaghetti. It took only three big bites to reduce Taki from a fully intact woman down to thoroughly masticated slop.

Swallowing down the bulk of Taki’s tasty body, the Doomgape turned its attention to the messy spatter of blood that had leaked out onto the floor. Its tongue extending, lapping through the wet pool. Finding her severed arm, it curled around the limb and tossed it into its mouth, swallowing it whole. Taki’s dead hand flopped as it sank down the Doomgape’s throat, offering a post-mortem wave to the sealed door and the survivors who’d abandoned her. With the last solid morsel of the woman consumed, the creature continued to lick away her blood from the tunnel floor, too busy enjoying the leftovers of its tasty meal to consider pursuing the rest of the women.


Being trapped on a space station with no discernible means of escape and almost as few avenues for communication with the outside world, Kaya didn’t have much in the way of keeping herself occupied. Still, she had no intention of simply sitting back and doing nothing while there were others out there who needed her. She had to assume that the camera feeds meant something. Someone – or something – had installed them throughout the Necropolis. It was possible they’d been part of some kind of top-secret Big Brother operation. Spying on the people of the city and transmitting all of the footage up to a remote – a very remote – location for analysis. The space station was small enough that it wouldn’t house more than a couple of people comfortably. And it all seemed too elaborate for what amounted to a bunch of webcam feeds. A direct connection between the cameras and the station seemed like a stretch. More likely, the cameras had been in place before whatever had happened, along with the station. Each of them had been meant for a separate purpose. Then whatever had happened in the city had happened, and somehow the station had started receiving the transmissions.

How that had happened was just as much of a mystery as how she’d gotten into the station in the first place. Kaya doubted she’d ever find those answers. But the purpose of the video feeds seemed like a much more attainable goal. Some of the stuff looked like it was being pirated from typical sources, security cameras, dashboard cams, that sort of thing. But there were other feeds that just made no logical sense, either in their placement or what they were capturing. The feeds that showcased empty bedrooms or the inner rim of a toilet bowl she could figure out. Cam girls and perverts. But how the strength of the feeds had been amplified to reach her was more alarming. Then there were the feeds she didn’t even want to consider, but knew she needed to. The ones showing only what appeared to be glistening, writhing flesh. Kaya’s best guess was that – somehow – cameras had been installed inside some of the hellish creatures dwelling in the Necropolis. Her best guess for those feeds was that perhaps a cop with a bodycam had gotten eaten at some point, but she’d have expected the gear to break down, or at least provide less stable footage. No, the cameras appeared to have been mounted in place.

The why was much easier to figure out, and far more sickening. She’d made numerous attempts to get a monitor to switch cameras, each of them a failure. The hours she’d spent listening and watching as a terrified woman sloshed about in some unknown creature’s stomach juices, slowing digesting away, still gave Kaya nightmares. She’d have felt even worse for the woman if she’d known Rose Calvert had only narrowly escaped drowning on the Titanic before being plucked into the Necropolis and promptly gobbled up. But as awful as the experience had been, it gave Kaya one answer out of all the mysteries surrounding her. Total observation. That was the point of the feeds. What her part in the whole scheme of things was, she wasn’t entirely sure, but something out in the world wanted a clear view of any potential events that took place within the city. Why something with enough influence to install cameras inside of monsters required video footage to observe anything, she didn’t know.

Kaya was in the midst of trying to figure out if there was some kind of pattern the feeds ran through, some method to the overwhelming influx of data. So far, she’d only managed to give herself a headache, eyes burning from staring at the banks of monitors before her for hours. She was about ready to stretch her legs and grab something to eat, maybe even a nap, when she caught movement on one of the monitors. She recognized Alice and her team of scouts and felt a wave of relief that they were still alive. The group had even picked up a few new members since she’d last seen them. More concerning was the fact that they were still in the Necropolis. The bridge had seemed like a clear route out of the city. She’d missed the altercation that had taken place, tucked away on the small cot she had access to, fingering herself to some much-needed stress relief.

The temptation to radio in and see what had happened became a much more panicked necessity as one of the other monitors switched feeds, showing Kaya the top of a skyscraper. The massive winged beast roosting against one ledge of the rooftop was enough to send a shiver down the young woman’s spine. The fear worsened as she spotted the highway overpass she’d seen the scout group heading onto in the distance. If she squinted, she could even see Alice’s group on the highway. Which meant it wouldn’t be hard for the massive beast to spot them as well. She turned and rushed to the radio, snatching it up. “Alice,” she called into the radio. “It’s Kaya. You have to get off the highway. Repeat, you have to get off the highway. Like right fucking now. Come in!” She glanced back to the monitors, her dread worsening as she saw the monster was no longer on the rooftop.


The crackle of the radio and Kaya’s faint but frantic voice drew Alice’s attention. She pulled the radio into her hand and up to her face. “Kaya,” she responded. “Good to hear from you. I didn’t quite catch your last message. Please, repeat.”

“ – off the highway!” Kaya’s panicked voice cut in. “Big fucking monster!”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Barely. Despite its size, the massive winged beast had managed to swoop in close to the group without causing much noise. Only a combination of Kaya’s warning and Renamon’s quick reflexes saved them. The fox-like woman pulled Fuuka to the ground, narrowly avoiding the sweeping claws of the creature. Alice ducked behind a defunct pickup truck, dropping her head low enough to avoid the sharp swipe of the creature’s long tail – tipped with a hooked blade made of off-white bone. The monster let loose with an annoyed shriek that left their ears ringing as it beat its heavy wings to rise back into the air. Its claws crunched into the side of a nearby building, latching on and twisting its head around to lock its beady eyes on the group, tail swishing with eager bloodlust.

The Wings of Death almost looked like a Hell Flyer, aside from its overwhelming size and deadly tail. Other details were wrong, the creature crafted into a unique mutation of the aerial monstrosities. Alice called to the others, ordering them to spread out and take cover. She had no idea if they even possessed enough firepower to take the thing down, but she doubted it. Getting off the highway was the best option, but even that seemed like a huge risk. There was enough open ground between them and potential safety that the beast would have no problem swooping in and picking them off one or two at a time. Even a single loss felt like too much to her, given everything they were up against. They needed a better plan.

“Homura,” she called to the young woman. “Now would be an awesome time to use that time stopping trick you’ve got.”

Homura shook her head. “It would drain my magic too much. Besides, that thing can fly. As far as I could take us, it would be able to catch up to us pretty quickly.”

“Perfect,” Alice groaned, turning her thoughts to something else. The options weren’t plentiful. Before she could come up with another idea, the Wings of Death launched itself from the side of the building. It didn’t come directly towards them, instead cutting through the air in a wide circle around them, swooping between buildings. Its large beak chattered before emitting a high-pitched cry that sounded far too much like mocking laughter. The scouts didn’t need orders to keep the monster in their line of sight, whatever weapons they possessed trained on it as it looped around them. The creature ducked behind a wide building, vanishing from their sight. The Wings of Death didn’t appear on the opposite side of the building, leaving the group to linger in their rising tension, waiting for the beast to reappear.

With another cackling cry, the Wings of Death crested the top of the skyscraper and swooped towards the group. Being spread out as they were, it was easier for them to avoid the attack. Hefting a rocket launcher onto her shoulder, Homura employed her time stop for a few brief moments to line up a shot on the creature, firing off a trio of rockets. The Wings of Death regained motion in time to react to the attack, sweeping its tail at the rockets and managing to knock one into a second. The third missile managed to get through, blowing a gaping wound open across the giant monster’s side and tearing through a portion of one of its wings. The creature let out a shriek of pain, dropping onto the highway. The overpass shook beneath the scouts but managed to stand up to the rough impact.

The Wings of Death – anger fueled by the pain of Homura’s attack – fixed its focus on the young woman. It lashed its tail towards her with a vicious swipe. Homura brought her shield up in time to block the strike, but the force of the impact knocked her into the air. The arc of her temporary flight carried her over the edge of the overpass. The ground came up fast, her back slamming into the windshield of a car down below with a meaty crunch. With one threat dealt with, the Wings of Death tried to shift its attention to the others, finding the shots of their various weapons only mild irritants. The problem was that there were too many targets to choose from. On the ground, they were faster than it was. The Wings of Death might’ve been a hulking beast, but it wasn’t entirely stupid. Engaging with the scouts directly was a mistake. It needed to find a means of separating them. Turning away from the group, its claws dug into the cement, starting to run away so it could work up the speed to take flight again and devise a better strategy of attack.

Inspired by Homura’s successful strike and the creature’s apparent retreat, Renamon charged after the creature. She ignored Alice’s call to stand down, determined to show the monster just what kind of a mistake it had made. Her bushy tail swished with fury as her powerful legs launched her into the air, managing to rise above the massive beast. She prepared to launch a devastating Diamond Storm into the Wings of Death’s backside, hopefully causing enough damage to keep the creature grounded long enough so that she and the others could finish it off. But the beast proved it was more aware of her presence than Renamon expected. The thing’s tail shot up, meeting her in the air and punching its way through her white-furred belly. The bone blade tore through her, erupting from her back as the air was driven from Renamon’s lungs. Her glowing blue eyes bulged from the shock, paws coming down to her bleeding belly. Her legs kicked about spastically, no longer controlled by her mind thanks to her severed spine. Her head was thrown back, body tugged along as the Wings of Death beat its leathery wings and returned to the air. Satisfied with the squirming catch impaled on its tail, the creature abandoned the rest of the scouts, eager to find someplace private to enjoy the morsel and heal from its wounds.

Still alive but suffering badly, Renamon was helpless as the Wings of Death carried her into the air. Wind rushed around her, roaring in her fluttering ears and ruffling her blood-stained fur. She lost sight of the others almost immediately. The vibration of the creature landing on a distant rooftop radiated through her body, drawing a scream of agony from her lips. The beast curled its tail around its body to get a good look at the prey it had snared. Bony fingers curled around Renamon’s busty figure, prying her off of the bloody bone-blade with painful slowness. The gaping gut wound left behind spewed blood and lacerated intestines. The fox-like woman whimpered as she watched the Wings of Death’s massive prick rise to attention before her. Her claws dug into the thing’s hand, lacking the strength to even lightly scratch the creature. The beast pulled her closer, pushing its way through the wound in her belly. Renamon screamed as the raw wound was stretched around the creature’s girth. The bloody cock emerged from her torn open backside, leaving her once more impaled. Her dead legs dangled and swayed beneath her as the Wings of Death fucked its way through her body, dragging her back and forth along its erection with growing speed.

Renamon gagged and hacked up a thick wad of blood onto her heaving breasts. Her tail gave off spastic twitches, just as paralyzed as her legs. Dizziness washed over her as her suffering continued, each stroke fucking her closer to death. She let out an agonized wail as the creature pulled its prick back through her, nearly leaving her body. Instead of withdrawing, the Wings of Death adjusted the angle of its penetration, ramming forward and fucking it oversized cock up into Renamon’s chest cavity. Her head jerked from side to side, wide eyes filled with animalistic terror as she puked up heavier spurts of chunky blood. Her gore-soaked tits jumped and bounced as the Wings of Death raped her torso, pulverizing her organs into useless clumps of flattened tissue. Gripping her body tight enough to break her arms and crush her ribs, the Wings of Death slammed Renamon’s body down onto its throbbing member. Her neck bulged as the thick cockhead wedged its way upwards. Her jaw dislocated to allow the dick to slide fully through her body, dying eyes filled with horror as she watched the geyser of creamy spunk erupted into the air above her. The jizz cascaded back over her twitching body, soaking her fear and drenching her face.

With its lust satiated, the Wings of Death curled an arm around its pulsing member to grab hold of Renamon’s lower half. With the wound in her gut fucked wide open, it was easy enough to tear the dead Digimon in half. It left her upper half, cock-spitted from torso to mouth, where it was, proud of the trophy it had claimed. Her lower half was shoved into the creature’s mouth, sharp beak snapping into her succulent meat. Renamon’s flopping legs and tail slowly descended down the creature’s gullet as the Wings of Death tilted its head back, allowing gravity to assist in the consumption of its meal. It gulped down her legs, leaving only the tip of her tail protruding from its beak for a few moments longer before even that was slurped down.


In the wake of the Wings of Death, Alice and the others were left stunned at how fast things had gone so wrong. Alice did her best to push down the loss, focusing on regrouping. The first order of business was getting off the highway. It was comically easy without the huge monster tormenting them. They found Homura, bruised but otherwise okay. Renamon hadn’t been a part of their group for long, but it was the first real loss the core group had suffered since Kaiden. Being the newest addition to the team, Domino had an easier time coping with the loss. The others, not so much. The burden of being in charge placed a fair amount of guilt on Alice’s shoulders. She tried to assure herself that they’d done the best they could in a bad situation. She’d even tried to tell Renamon to hold back. Even that knowledge wasn’t enough to brighten her spirits any. Seeing a similar degree of guilt plastered across Fuuka’s face only made it worse. She could already imagine what the woman was going to say. That her abilities should have warned them sooner. And while it was alarming that such a massive threat had managed to evade her abilities, it just wasn’t what they needed to be focusing on.

Homura was the first to speak up. “We can’t stay here,” she insisted. “We have to leave before that thing comes back. Or something else shows up.”

It wasn’t a bad suggestion, but the fact that it had been Homura who made it lit the powder keg of Izumi’s anger. “One of our team just died, you callous bitch,” she yelled. “Maybe if you hadn’t been so goddamn stingy with your abilities, she’d still be here.”

Izumi’s words expressed the thoughts of several others in the group, but they weren’t eager to join in on the argument. Not even Kay-Em dared to say anything to brighten the mood.

The anger left Homura unaffected. Her face remained passive, determined. “We still need to get moving.” Maybe as a means of leading by example, she turned away from Izumi, starting down the road.

The lack of reaction only further infuriated Izumi. “I can’t believe you,” she yelled after the young woman. “What even are you? Do you not have a heart? Are you even human?”

Her last comment managed to get Homura to pause. Her face darkened as she let out a disgruntled, “Hmph.” She turned her head, looking back at Izumi from over her shoulder. “Someone else asked me that once. I’ll give you the same answer.” Her face firmed, eyes narrowing. “No. Of course, I’m not.”



The path from the mall to the hospital was a relatively straightforward route and, thanks to the scouting party, confirmed to be mostly absent of any lurking threats. Still, the group of survivors was large and slow moving. Keeping the women in too tight of a group only led to a constant cycle of tripping and stepping on toes. Too spread out and they’d be easy to pick off. Finding an appropriate middle ground took time they didn’t have, but it was a necessary delay to maintain an overall level of security. The better fighters made up a kind of safety loop around those too weak or wounded to do much good in a fight. Capable but not as skilled combatants dotted their way through the group, ensuring that no one was left helpless. It was a stressful, rickety operation, but – for the most part – it was working.

The scouted route took the group past an apartment complex and then through a narrow gap between two buildings, each of which had been under construction at the time of the Necropolis’s rebirth. Scaffolding took up the entirety of the sidewalks on either side of the road, leaving only a small length of road to travel down. It was more cramped than Azula cared for, but she wasn’t about to turn back or tell everyone to stop while they found another more optimal path. The bulk of the group had reached the halfway point of the natural choke-point when the worst case scenario played out. The rear guard spotted the hulking figure of the zombified Great Dane. Scooby-Doo had been prowling around the apartment complex when the scent of such a large group of fresh meat had lured him out. His bloodshot eyes fixed on the surplus of tasty Scooby Snacks before him, licking his slobbering chops before lifting his head to the sky and letting out an echoing howl.

The howl was loud enough that even the women at the front of the group had no trouble hearing it. The threat of a single undead mutt wasn’t great, but the howl hadn’t even concluded before it drew out several Hell Hounds. The beasts charged down the road, focusing their trajectories on the sidewalk as opposed to the women crowding the street. Their beefy bulks had no trouble smashing through the rickety scaffolding, knocking it loose from the sides of the buildings and sending it toppling over into the street. Azula and the others in charge of guiding the group didn’t need to call out orders to get the bulk of the group moving. The women charged down the road, desperate to rush clear of the trap they’d been lured into. Being at the front of the group, Azula and Baroness had little trouble getting out of the way of the falling debris. Others weren’t so lucky.

Bashira Kincaid had been near the center of the group when the panic erupted. She holstered her sidearm and managed to maintain her composure, hurrying ahead but focusing more and pushing the others ahead of her. Her adherence to following her orders to keep the others safe proved costly. With so many rushing bodies still behind her, her slow pace made her more of a liability than a help. She tried to pick up speed as wom