tagErotic HorrorBleak Future

Bleak Future


This is my first attempt at an erotic horror story. I have never done horror before and I don't find this story particularly 'scary.' I'm trying to create a world where I can begin to bring suspense and tension and fear and I'll improve. Enjoy!


Meredith inched around the fallen log. She was proned out, lying silent in the forest. She was in a good position, 70 yards away and upwind. She eased the muzzle of her modified AK-47 towards the deer. Sighting in, she grunted satisfaction of a good sight picture. Taking all the time in the world, she exhaled and rested her finger on the trigger. She hadn't eaten in three days and was looking forward to some protein.

The deer tensed in the rear sight aperture. Meredith froze, sniffing the air, straining to hear the sound of them. The deer took a long look off its shoulder, two o'clock to Meredith's position, and bounded away in the other direction. She debated taking a pot shot but she was far too low on ammunition to waste a single round. Disappointed, she turned her attention to the newcomers.

Two of them came shambling through the undergrowth. Meredith had seen zombies before, had fought them, and she didn't care much for the word. Oh, they had other names. One popular one was "Johnnies" in reference to a swarm of them, the way Vietnam vets used "Charlie." They were akin to what Hollywood taught people but there were some distinct differences. They didn't rot. Their minds were gone and they were voracious humans, eating everything and anything made of meat. They were undead, but their bodies didn't rot. It was first thought you could smell them long before they showed up, but that wasn't the truth. One could smell them, but it was the piss and shit that accumulated in their clothes if they still had any. That outhouse scent could be mistaken for humans, though. It threw off a lot of people.

Meredith weighed her options. Zombies moaned and had wonderful hearing, supposedly. These two would see her, make some noise, and she'd be in a world of shit. But zombies didn't respond to noises other then those of the living. Two shots from concealment would turn a little bit of tide against the hordes of undead. But she only had 20 rounds left. She couldn't waste them. She lied quietly behind the log and waited. 40 minutes later, they were out of sight and out of mind. Luckily, they didn't trip over her.

Meredith gave them an extra 20 minutes before standing. She sat, shaking a little, and inventoried her gear. Even after campaigning against zombies, she was always unnerved being near them. And she didn't feel bad since she never met someone who could be in this situation and not have shakes or anxiety after. She ran her hand through her hair, or what was left. It used to be long, a deep natural red, and luxurious. Hair was now a target and a trap if the undead got their hands on you. She hacked it off every chance she had. The camouflage pants were a durable cloth that could withstand serious bite attacks and her long legs tapered into heavy steel-toed combat boots. She had stomped more then one skull with her heels. She expected there may still be brain matter in the treads. She was otherwise outfitted in light long sleeve green shirt and a heavy leather vest that acted as her body armor. She stood, her 5'8 frame weighing in at 150 including the gear. She was pretty, even when her only showers consisted of water falling from the sky.

"I should eat more," she said aloud, patting her stomach. It was tight and muscled, along with the rest of her body, from a mix of low nourishment and tremendous physical activity. She checked her map and stepped north, towards a supposed walled community called North Haven. The alleged position was 27 miles away.

Five miles later, the sun blazing overhead, Meredith spotted a house. Most houses didn't earn attention but this one was obviously inhabited. It hadn't fallen into disrepair even if it was dirty. From a quarter mile, inside the treeline, she studied it. The doors and shutters were heavy material and looked like they'd been attacked. Ditches and defenses lined the property. Concertina wire ran from the sides of the house around the back. Strategically-placed debris concentrated the approach to the house and in its killing field were scattered bodies. Someone knew how to shoot.

Meredith put her whistle to her lips. One long blast followed by two short blasts was the universal way to announce one's presence. After a full 60 seconds, she heard the reply call. Out in the open she moved quickly, hunkered down so as to not draw attention from any zombies who may look her direction. Effortlessly, she jumped the dyke, scaled the short brick wall lining the porch, and took a knee at the door. She gently knocked.

The door cracked open. Staring down from behind two shotgun barrels stood a bearded man. She looked at him and smiled. He didn't smile back. The way he held his big body suggested he hadn't experienced humor in a while.

"I saw your house and I figured I'd make a quick stop."

Silence from the man.

"I'm only moving through the area. I'm not going to set up a residence and I didn't lead any of them here."

He grunted. "If you wasn't sly, you'd be one of them," he said, mouthful of West Virginia accent. "C'mon in, I guess."

She slid through the doorframe, and only stood once the door was shut and bolted. She nodded at its construction. It could take some abuse.

"Name's Burt. Outback is Kenny. It's the two of us but you can stay the night. Gonna be dark in a few hours."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. I'll stand watch so you two can sleep tonight. Let you get rest."

Burt nodded.

"Also, do you have any chow to spare? I have another 40 miles and I haven't eaten in three nights. I could also use 7.62 if you have it."

"We got us a regular armory in the attic and you can take MREs, but it'll cost." He eyed her up and down.

Sex was a commodity like any other to Meredith. Prior to the massive invasions and eventual collapse of society, she had been to fertility doctors. She was barren. It worked now just fine with no worry of pregnancy. She'd never bring another life into this world anyway. Luckily, she wasn't shy. One had to be aggressive to survive.

Her hand rubbed the zipper on his jeans. "Now or later?" she asked.

"Both," he said, unbuckling his belt, "And you'll give the boy a taste, too."

Meredith turned and walked to the big oak table dominated the front room. She slid her pants and underwear over her hips and down past her knees. The man was already hard from her being just being in the room so it would take little time. Then she could eat and get some sleep before tonight. She bent over the table, ass in the air.

Bert stood behind her. She reached between her legs and rubbed his balls with her fingertips as he dropped his pants. His cock sprang to life. With a grunt, he pushed the head of his dick into Meredith's pussy. She grunted at the discomfort of dry sex. He started working himself into her and she got slick enough to take away the pinching sensation. Bert sensed her relax and pumped his hips harder. Only a minute in and she felt him tighten.

"Ah!" he cried out, cum flooding into Meredith. He shook hard and collapsed on her. One hand squeezed her tit through her shirt. Meredith let the guy have a feel, then pushed him off her. She pulled her pants up and did up her belt. Bert was still slumped over the table, the first grin in a month on his face. His head turned and faced her.

"I get that again, you'll get 50 more rounds of ammo."

Meredith couldn't say no to the deal. She shrugged and countered.

"Hell, that and three more MREs and I'll swallow whatever you put in my mouth."

Bert grunted agreement. He motioned for Meredith to follow him and walked to the back of the house. Outside was an expanse of yard, large brick walls stretching around the property. Rows of corn and wheat were 100 yards off the house and a vegetable garden was planted at the doorstep. A massive oak tree shaded half of a small pond.

"If you want, you can wash in that pond. There's none of them under the water and it's spring-fed, so it'll be clean."

Meredith nodded. She walked down to the water. It was clean and clear and would feel good with the sun burning in the sky. She stripped down and waded in neck deep. She took a breath and submerged herself. It had been forever since she'd been underwater. One never dared enter a lake, river, or ocean as they were rift with zombies. The buggers were known to walk right up on a beach and attack anyone close enough to get grabbed. It was heavenly in the stillness and quiet of the pond. The only sound was her heartbeat.

Meredith broke the surface and looked around quickly. She knew she wasn't alone. Standing at the edge of the water was a kid. He was tall, gangly, and his face was pockmarked with pimples. Kenny. He was staring at her. She bet he had never seen a real female naked before. Out of spite, she stayed neck deep.

"Bert says no one washes without another pair of eyes. He's fixing supper, so it's me."

Meredith gave him a sarcastic salute and went back to her own thoughts. 15 minutes later, she decided to get out. She felt faint alarm when she didn't see her clothes. She had dropped them right by the stand of cattails on the bank and they were gone. She looked up towards the house. Kenny had them piled up, nicely folded, on the backdoor porch. He was standing next to them naked below the waist. He was staring at her, still in water up to her neck, and masturbating furiously. She sighed; all guys were same.

Now Meredith had sucked and fucked countless men, and some women, in the name of trade. She had been seen naked by many and this little pimply-faced kid wasn't about to throw her off. She got out of the pond and strode toward him. His eyes bugged out at the sight of her walking. His stare crawled over her breasts, her thighs, her pussy, her whole body. She stood next to him and he looked no higher then her neck.

"Bert.... ah... says.... Mmm.... I get to... uh, oooh.... Fuck you."

"Sure, why not?" Meredith responded.

His arm snaked out and he grabbed her tit. He squeezed it and came violently, hips working, cum spraying on the grass in front of him. He moaned loudly, his hand still on her body.

She waited a few seconds.

"You done?" she asked.

"Huuhhhh.... Yeah."

"Good," she said. She hit his arm off her tit, grabbed his wrist and yanked on his shoulder. Rotating in a circle, she threw him to the ground and dropped a freshly-washed knee on his neck, pinning him to the grass.

"Listen, asshole! I'll fuck you because it's in the deal, but when I say so. You pull shit like that again, I'll snap your neck like a pencil."

His free arm came up to grab at her and she turned her knee, adding torque to his neck. His face turned an interesting shade of dark red.

"I promise. You might potshot a zombie or two but I've fought them. I can crush you right now." He was purple now. "So, if you feel grabby, start grabbing yourself and keep your hands off me. Otherwise, you won't see another sunrise. Tap your feet together if you understand."

His feet tapped weakly. She stood and put her clothes on. Kenny was still on the ground when she walked in the house fully dressed.

They ate a quiet dinner that night. Bert made one passing comment that Kenny was straightened out nicely and he'd mind his manners from now one. The food was delicious, even if it was boiled beans and salad. They supplemented the meal with some packaged beef. Meredith felt energy surge through her body as she chewed and swallowed each bite. She felt good, ready to sleep, ready to fight another day. But the only problem with having real honest-to-goodness food after a steady diet of military food and nothing was the intestine's reaction. An hour before her watch that night, Meredith was shuttling in and out of the bathroom. Her stomach was satisfied, but her digestive tract was having minor difficulties. The third trip, she ran into Kenny.

"Move it, I gotta shit," she said.

And stopped. His rifle came up and pointed at her. The eyes behind the barrel were not friendly.

"I want to fuck. We're doing this now," he said.

"No, in the morning. You wouldn't enjoy it right now. I've got the shits."

"NOW!" he yelled.

"Would you shut up?" she said. "You have no idea what can hear us. The wind's up right now."


"Shhhh... seriously...." She said quietly. She left the bathroom window open to clear some of the stench.

"NO! I SAID......"

He went quiet. Then his eyes grew large. Meredith heard it an instant later. She swore under her breath and ran to her room. Kenny blew on the whistle he was wearing. TWEET... TWEET... TWEET. Three fast blasts in a row was universal for danger. A groan and a stumble downstairs signaled Bert's alertness.

The gentle moaning was carried on the wind. Meredith listened. Maybe 30 of them close by, or maybe 3,000 a click away. Wind played tricks with sound and with the nearby hills, it could bounce and echo. She charged several magazines and put them in the pockets of her backpack. Looking out the window, the entire horizon seemed to move. Great. A locust swarm. The zombies shambled at them.

Burt was downstairs, yelling commands. It was his house, so Meredith was under his leadership. They had no reason to be quiet now, the horde knew where they were.

"Girl, you get upstairs and start plugging away at anything that gets inside the gate! Let's hope they stack up too high for the fuckers to breach us! Kenny, we gotta get this door bolstered!"

Meredith ran to the window and assumed a good firing position. She watched her front sight post bob and weave with her heavy breathing. The gate was 100 yards on the nose so she had her range. She heard furniture being dragged downstairs.

Shots cracked from below her feet.

"Goddam it, Kenny! Wait 'til they get up to the gate!" Burt shouted.

The waiting was the hardest part. It would be another two minutes before the wall of undead could be fired at. Meredith focused and calmed her whole body.

*crack* *crack* *crack* *crack*

All three rifles opened fire. Bodies dropped and spun. The range was so close Meredith saw flesh and bone ripping away from the impacts. One magazine was spent and there was barely a dent in the tidal wave. Zombies climbed over each other, clawing to get at the humans inside. They were over the walls, through the gate, and flattening the concertina wire with their weight.

Pounding and glass shattering punctured the constant unnerving moan. They were at the house.

Meredith wouldn't be trapped upstairs. She grabbed the ammo and jumped down the steps three at a time. Bert abandoned his rifle for the shotgun. He fired point-blank out of the window. Mottled green arms reached through the sill, grasping at him. Bert smashed an elbow with the barrel and unloaded another round into the crowd. He was holding his own.

Kenny wasn't as lucky. Meredith, reloading a magazine, watched as he braced against an oak bookshelf that was wedged against the door. The pure force of the zombies was incredible. The door buckled, surged in, and was taken off its hinges. The bookcase crashed down and Kenny leapt to get out of the way. He screamed for help when his ankle got caught under it. The crunch of bone spelled fracture. Meredith mentally dropped his survival rate to zero. Undead bodies came crawling over the obstacle as Bert tried to help Kenny free his ankle. Bert grabbed at Meredith's sleeve.

"Help him!"

"He's a lost cause, Bert! We gotta get moving!"

Bert stayed while Meredith fled the room. She glanced back at the door as the first zombies made it into the front room and reached for Kenny. She bolted out the back door.

And stopped. She had no food, low ammo. Bert had mentioned a store of some rounds and a lot of food in the basement. Meredith slid back into the door. The undead were 40 feet away, ripping apart a screaming Bert. Kenny's face was visible under the green wall of bodies, his eyes glazed over and blood pouring out of what used to be his throat. Meredith knew the smell of blood would occupy them for another minute. She hustled downstairs and started tossing boxes of ammo and food into her pack. Filling up with whatever she could find without effort, Meredith zipped up the bag. She sprinted upstairs.

She ran straight into an old, plump woman. The dead woman's hands grasped Meredith's sleeves and she pulled Meredith's body toward her mouth. Meredith smashed the butt of her rifle under the dead woman's chin. Meredith brought the rifle over her shoulder and bashed the woman in the face. The woman's grip loosened as another zombie, a young child, grabbed at Meredith's calf. Meredith kicked hard, sending the kid flying and pivoted to hip throw the old woman off her. Other zombies, unable to feast on the remains of Bert and Kenny, shambled toward her. Meredith, well-stocked, turned and sprinted.

She slowed down to a quick jog once she cleared the backyard wall. Another 30 minutes of running put her almost 3 miles away from the gory scene. She slowed and caught her breath.

"I'm armed and fed," she said aloud, "I can get to this North Haven."

She trekked north.

Days passed and she quickly felt herself losing discipline to stay covered and concealed. It might have been a Tuesday when she spotted an out-building. It was brick and 30 feet high with tiny slits at the top. It had no doors or windows. She had seen these lookout posts before. They were connected via underground tunnels to larger towns. She blew her whistle.

Within seconds, she had a response. She covered the ground quickly and crouched behind a small brick wall to stay out of sight. She called up to the slit.

"Hey, is this North Haven?"

"Yeah," a female voice called down, "You heard about us by name?"

"From a guy named Matty. We fought together this past spring," Meredith replied.

"Well, if someone told you about us specifically, I guess that's okay. See that stand of evergreens? The tall ones that stand out about a half mile from here?"

"I see them," Meredith said.

"Head that way. That's where walls are. They'll let you in from there. You'll hear two blasts on a whistle. Blow one short, count to five, and blow one long."

"Short, pause, long. Got it," Meredith replied.

"Hey," the voice called down, suddenly warm and friendly, "Welcome. I'm glad you could find us."

Twelve minutes later, she was confronted with a wooden palisade that stretched both directions into the woods. She was 50 yards from the evergreens when she heard two blasts on a whistle. She replied as instructed and waited. A minute later, the top half of a large boulder hissed and lifted up. A head popped up and a guy, mid-20s grinned at her.

"Hey, we heard about you from Jean," he said, eyeing her, "You look well-traveled. I assume you can be of some help here. C'mon in."

She thanked him and took his offered hand. She scrabbled up the rock and into the camouflaged door.

"I'm Phil," the guy said, "what's your name?"


"A please," he said, all grins, "Welcome to our little piece of peace." He paused. "Get it?"

"Yeah, good one,"

He smiled, "Well, real quick, we're about 250 folks. We got walls, defenses, lures, traps, pits, a nice little fire to burn the carcasses, and we haven't been hit much. We also got an almost self-sustaining food system and we have wells. We figure we'll just hold out for the next couple of years and see what happens. I said you looked well-traveled, I meant you look like you know how to use that," he indicated the AK-47, "and we could use someone who can shoot."

She nodded, "I can do that."

"Oh," he went on, "if you run into the Roughnex, look out. They're the local tough guys. They think they're big shit, but they are generally harmless. Just a warning."

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