the effects of the mold/virus symbiont. I chained her to the wall as she slept, and kept her warm and comfortable. It was only after another day that she awoke, and I discovered that she was no longer the woman I remembered. The woman I hated. She was some kind of stark raving lunatic.
Her eyes had become totally red, and her gums had receded to the point of exposing her teeth in a gruesome way. Her lips had partially dissolved, and she exuded some kind of foul odor. The strangest thing was that she was hungry. Very hungry.
I fed her meat that I had stored in my deep freeze in the basement. It was the only place in the house that still had power, thanks to my ingenious windmill contraption. I was able to generate a few thousand watts; enough to power the lights and the freezer, plus a few torture devices like my reciprocating saw and drill.
After feeding her a few steaks, I decided I wanted to keep those for myself, so I gave her meat from my stash. I had plenty of victims down there to cut up for her nourishment. Some of them were still alive, and some of them were dead. I tried both. She seemed to prefer the meat cut from the living people, but would eat the rotten flesh if she was hungry enough.
This went on for days. Though a little affronted at first, I began to grow accustomed to her nature, and could even use the desk behind her to study my photos. I would talk to her as I worked, and she would mumble back. It almost seemed like she remembered who I was, despite the zombie-like creature she had become.
Eventually, like my other victims, I decided to have my way with her. It was explosive. She struggled and growled as I pounded her from behind, making it all that much better. I probably mounted her six times that first day. The best part was how the other females I had strapped to the racks would watch and cry out in disgust. It was beautiful.
I always made sure to bathe afterwards using the mold killer. I didn’t want my dick to fall off, after all. But lately, I’ve had some strange stirrings in my body. There’s been no pain to speak of, only cramps that I could tolerate, and some weird crawling sensations in my gut and on my skin.
I’m not sure what’s going on, but it’s fairly obvious that I am infected in some way. Lucy seems to know, too, as she coos and purrs when I am around, as if she recognizes me as one of her own. I find the whole thing fascinating, and look forward to seeing what happens. I just hope that the infection doesn’t affect my thinking. But then again, I’m already the perfect organism. I doubt that anything could ever change that.
I’m thinking, however, that the time has finally come to get rid of the neighbors. Most of them have died already, or killed themselves. Dan and Drew have been scouring the neighborhood, looking for drugs and booze, no doubt. Even Shirley was paid a visit. She has committed a major offense by letting them in her house. I was impressed by her aggression against the MIB as I call them. A small part of me was even impressed by Dan and Drew. They helped to wipe out the little squad of losers in less than ten minutes.
Very impressive.
However, Shirley needs to die. I’ve wanted to collect her skin for some experiments anyway. It’s a bit wrinkled, but if I can straighten it out, it would make a nice coat. I’ll go do that soon. But first, I need to get rid of my brother. He’s another drunken loser that showed up when the infection started. He’s been a pain in my ass; eating all of my food, sleeping in my bed, and taking all sorts of pills. I think he’s even been jerking off in my shower. Fucking prick.
I think I’ll slit his throat while he’s sleeping.
Dan’s heart jumped when he read the last sentence. He sat up quickly, his breath coming in gasps. He looked around at his friends, hoping that he hadn’t woken any of them up. They still snored away, and Dan lay back down, feeling like puking, but holding it down as his mind
Her eyes had become totally red, and her gums had receded to the point of exposing her teeth in a gruesome way. Her lips had partially dissolved, and she exuded some kind of foul odor. The strangest thing was that she was hungry. Very hungry.
I fed her meat that I had stored in my deep freeze in the basement. It was the only place in the house that still had power, thanks to my ingenious windmill contraption. I was able to generate a few thousand watts; enough to power the lights and the freezer, plus a few torture devices like my reciprocating saw and drill.
After feeding her a few steaks, I decided I wanted to keep those for myself, so I gave her meat from my stash. I had plenty of victims down there to cut up for her nourishment. Some of them were still alive, and some of them were dead. I tried both. She seemed to prefer the meat cut from the living people, but would eat the rotten flesh if she was hungry enough.
This went on for days. Though a little affronted at first, I began to grow accustomed to her nature, and could even use the desk behind her to study my photos. I would talk to her as I worked, and she would mumble back. It almost seemed like she remembered who I was, despite the zombie-like creature she had become.
Eventually, like my other victims, I decided to have my way with her. It was explosive. She struggled and growled as I pounded her from behind, making it all that much better. I probably mounted her six times that first day. The best part was how the other females I had strapped to the racks would watch and cry out in disgust. It was beautiful.
I always made sure to bathe afterwards using the mold killer. I didn’t want my dick to fall off, after all. But lately, I’ve had some strange stirrings in my body. There’s been no pain to speak of, only cramps that I could tolerate, and some weird crawling sensations in my gut and on my skin.
I’m not sure what’s going on, but it’s fairly obvious that I am infected in some way. Lucy seems to know, too, as she coos and purrs when I am around, as if she recognizes me as one of her own. I find the whole thing fascinating, and look forward to seeing what happens. I just hope that the infection doesn’t affect my thinking. But then again, I’m already the perfect organism. I doubt that anything could ever change that.
I’m thinking, however, that the time has finally come to get rid of the neighbors. Most of them have died already, or killed themselves. Dan and Drew have been scouring the neighborhood, looking for drugs and booze, no doubt. Even Shirley was paid a visit. She has committed a major offense by letting them in her house. I was impressed by her aggression against the MIB as I call them. A small part of me was even impressed by Dan and Drew. They helped to wipe out the little squad of losers in less than ten minutes.
Very impressive.
However, Shirley needs to die. I’ve wanted to collect her skin for some experiments anyway. It’s a bit wrinkled, but if I can straighten it out, it would make a nice coat. I’ll go do that soon. But first, I need to get rid of my brother. He’s another drunken loser that showed up when the infection started. He’s been a pain in my ass; eating all of my food, sleeping in my bed, and taking all sorts of pills. I think he’s even been jerking off in my shower. Fucking prick.
I think I’ll slit his throat while he’s sleeping.
Dan’s heart jumped when he read the last sentence. He sat up quickly, his breath coming in gasps. He looked around at his friends, hoping that he hadn’t woken any of them up. They still snored away, and Dan lay back down, feeling like puking, but holding it down as his mind
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