tagErotic HorrorThe World Ended on Halloween

The World Ended on Halloween


It happened with a whimper, not a bang.

Halloween. It came on a Friday. Kids didn't have school the next day. They were out trick-or-treating, the younger ones with their parents, the older ones causing mischief -- soaping windows, banging on doors and running away, leaving a little flaming..."present" on the front porch. It was a nice night, pleasantly warm for late October. It was clear, and, appropriately enough, there was a full moon hanging in the sky.

What would Halloween be without a full moon?

My beautiful young wife Teri and I had other things on our minds. We hadn't seen each other in two weeks while she'd been out of town on a modeling assignment. We set out a big bowl of candy with a "Help Yourself!" sign. Then we locked the door, turned out all the lights and left a trail of clothes all the way to the bedroom.

We couldn't get enough of each other. The first time was a supernova -- quick, ferocious, and explosive, and fueled by our urgent need for each other. The second time was a slow burning candle, and we made it last until we could no longer hold back. The third time was sweet and gentle - sensuous, languorous, and possibly the most satisfying of all.

And she was insatiable.

She started sucking me again, her head bobbing at an incredible rate of speed. When she sucked, her mouth made a distinctive noise:

"HOCK-ul! HOCK-ul! HOCK-ul! HOCK-ul!"

I was rock hard again in minutes. Teri gave the head of my cock a little kiss and got up on her hands and knees, raising her exquisite rump in the air.

"Up the ass!" she gasped. "Fuck me up the ass!"

I grinned. Teri loved to ass-fuck more than any girl I'd ever known, and I was only too happy to oblige. She was tight; she groaned as I shoved it all the way in. Then she screamed in ecstasy.

Her asshole made a distinctive noise when I cornholed her, too:

"CHOCK-futt! CHOCK-futt! CHOCK-futt! CHOCK-futt!"

I came all over the fleshy, beautiful globes of her ass cheeks and collapsed.

I held her close as I caught my breath, brushing my lips over her eyelashes. She was so drop-dead gorgeous; just twenty-two, with tumbling waves of sable hair, jade green eyes, huge tits, and a luscious body that could tempt a saint.

"Love you," I managed. "Missed you."

"Love you, too," she breathed. "That was quite a 'welcome home.' "

I smiled. "I aim to please."

"Your aim is good, hon," she returned. "You've got the straightest shooting cock in the West."

She smiled as the muffled sounds of childish laughter wafted up through the closed window from the front yard. "I hope they don't trash the place too badly."

"Guess we'll find out in the morning," I murmured sleepily as we drifted off in each other's arms.

Nothing in the world could have prepared us for what we found the next morning.

The alarm went off at 7 am, and the clock radio a few moments later. Instead of hearing "Saturday Morning with Gary Jeff Blevins," all we got was static. I frowned as I yawned and stretched. Maybe I'd accidentally bumped the tuner when I'd set it. I started to slide out of bed when Teri threw her arm over my chest.

"Where are you going?"

"I want to hear the news," I replied.

"The news can wait; I can't."

She kissed me almost savagely, making my head spin and the blood rush to an extremely responsive body part. 'To hell with Gary Jeff Blevins,' I thought.

Her asshole was still well-greased from last night, so I went up her Hershey Highway again, all the while listening to the hissing of the radio. Eventually we made it to the bathroom on rubbery legs and showered together. I came out and fiddled with the radio dial.



Just static.

Damn. We needed a new clock radio. Another trip to Best Buy...

Teri was still naked as she opened the curtains to the back bedroom window. I chuckled. If old Pete Williamson was out working in his garden and got an eyeful of those huge, incredible breasts, he'd probably drop dead from a stroke. I'd caught him ogling Teri's bountiful chest on more than one occasion.

Not that I could blame him.

"Careful, Sweetie - don't want to give the neighbors a show," I began.

Teri suddenly loosed an ear-shattering scream and recoiled in horror.

"What is it, baby?" I cried, alarmed, as I folded her in my arms. She was hysterical, and just kept gesturing toward the window. I followed her pointing finger, and almost became hysterical myself.

Tendrils of green fog slithered over the wet grass, low to the ground, and there were bodies lying everywhere. Little kids in Halloween costumes. Their parents. Older kids. Blodger, Jim Tierney's bulldog. Birds.

A young woman and an overturned baby carriage, and a little toddler in a teddy bear sleeper/costume...

I had to turn away then.

Teri's beautiful emerald eyes were full of tears and wide with terror.

"W-what h-happened?" she asked. "Are they d-dead?"

I closed my eyes. I could still see the blue-gray pallor of their faces, the flesh already rotting away at an incredible rate, the milky film occluding their bulbous, staring eyes.

"Oh, they're dead, all right, honey," I murmured. I shuddered; like a sleepwalker, numb with shock, I turned on the TV. "Let's see if we can find out what's going on."

Again, nothing. Channel after channel - just static.

Then, finally, an image of an empty studio on WPKR, News 6.

Well, not completely empty.

A man was slumped back in his chair at the news desk, dead. I recognized him. Tom Atkins, New 6's anchor man.

Teri gasped.

Then the screen wavered and was replaced with the image of a wild-eyed, disheveled Atkins.

"This is Tom Atkins, News 6 anchor. I am putting this report on a tape loop for anyone who has survived this disaster. An exotic biological plague of unknown origin has apparently destroyed ninety percent of all life in the world. Whatever this lethal plague is, it kills quickly, horribly. Victims complain of dizzy spells and a general malaise at first--nothing extraordinary. But then, within a half-hour or so, they suddenly turn into mindless, babbling creatures who thrash about wildly, uttering weird cries--and then they...die."

The scene shifted to the downtown area. A strange green, billowing fog rolled rapidly through the streets, and people dropped like flies as it enveloped them. I swallowed hard, and Teri whimpered.

"This footage was shot by News 6 reporter Sherry Driscoll and her crew moments before they...before we lost contact with them."

Atkins's image flickered back onto the screen. He was obviously struggling to remain focused and coherent. Sweat bathed his face, and his brow was furrowed with deeply etched lines of concentration. "The only thing we seem to know for sure is that it attacks the blood. Can't make...much sense out of...it. Maybe it's because of the disease. Can't clear my...head... anymore..."

Suddenly, Atkins threw his head back, and peal after peal of foolish, mindless laughter burst from his throat. It was the laughter of pain, misery and despair. He began to cough, then foam at the mouth. His body writhed in spasms and convulsions as he gibbered and screamed and moaned. Then, suddenly, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, he sagged back in his chair. His pain-wracked eyes were already filming with the unconsciousness that immediately preceded death.

The tape ended.

Teri buried her face in my chest. "Oh, God. How horrible!"

I was trembling. The house was very energy efficient, well insulated, and the windows had been closed. Teri and I had survived; were we the only ones?

As if answering my question, a beautiful red cardinal flew down and perched on a tree just outside the bedroom window.

"Looks like it's probably safe to go outside," I breathed. "I want to find out if we're the only survivors."

We got dressed quickly. I grabbed my Remington 12-gauge semi-automatic shotgun and a .45 pistol and loaded them both.

"What do we need those for?" Teri asked, hugging herself. Her beautiful face was pinched and pale.

"Well, right now, I have a feeling that if there are survivors, there's going to be very little in the way of law and order out there. No telling what we might run into. I want to be prepared."

We cautiously stepped outside. It was eerie; everything was so quiet. No traffic noises, no planes overhead.

No people.

Houses and yards were still decorated for Halloween, with fake cobwebs and gravestones and witches and black cats and plastic skeletons. The more elaborate displays had Frankenstein's monsters and vampires and werewolves set up to menace the population.

The stench was unbelievable. The bodies were decaying at an unusual rate. Many of them looked as if they'd been dead for months. Scraps of putrefied flesh hung loosely on grinning skulls.

Suddenly Teri shrieked in abject terror. I turned, and almost wet my pants.

The corpses were stiffly sitting up. They turned as one turned and stared at us - and they screamed.

"Head for the car!" I cried to Teri. I unlocked the doors with my remote and we ran like hell.

"Get them!" a sepulchral voice shivered behind us. I glanced over my shoulder.

He looked like a zombie from a George Romero movie, but I recognized Pete Williamson.

We made it to the car and I locked the doors, but they were all over us. There was the sound of glass breaking, and then a shrieking Teri was ripped through the passenger window. Then they tipped the car over, driver's side down. I banged against the back of my seat, and my arms went numb. I was helpless; I screamed at the top of my lungs. They dragged Teri in front of the car and I could see what was happening to her.

All too clearly.

"Strip her!" Pete Williamson moaned in his creaky voice. "I want to ass-rape her, and then I want to bite into those great big juicy tits!"

They ripped off her clothes, and I could her screaming. They threw her face down on the ground, and what was left of Pete shoved his huge zombie cock up her ass.

"NAHN!!" Teri screamed in agony. They gang raped her, passing her around like a bottle of wine until she was covered with blood and semen.

Then one of them grabbed her by the hair, bit down, and tore off the right side of her face, and then the rest attacked en masse.

They were eating her alive!

I'll never forget the sight. One of those walking ghouls gnawed on her severed leg like it was a KFC drumstick. They bore her naked, mangled, squirming body to the ground, and Pete Williamson got his wish. He came up with a chunk of torn, bloody breast in his jaws while I cried and shrieked in impotent rage.

Feeling finally returned to my arms and hands. I got the seat belt unlatched, grabbed the shotgun and blew out the windshield. I glanced up - and wished I hadn't. They were spreading open Teri's ribs and tearing out her entrails. One of them was chewing on her heart.

I turned away and threw up.

Then I started blasting away, my eyes streaming tears, not caring whether I made it out alive or not. They'd killed my beloved Teri, and I was going to take as many of them with me as I could.

One of them charged right at me. I pulled the trigger.


Nothing happened, but the zombie's chest exploded in blood and he flew away from me as a harness yanked him backward. He landed on his ass and started laughing.

So did I. I lowered my shotgun.


Bruce Palmer, the director, glowered and shook his head.

"Get somebody from props up here to check Rob's shotgun. That was a good take, people. It's almost lunch time anyway. Let's stop for that. Zombies - liquid lunch is recommended. Eat solid food at your own risk. Mess up the prosthetic makeup and I'll kick your asses from here to Chicago."

There was general moaning and groaning as the zombie horde dispersed. Julianna Troy, my lovely, incredibly sexy "Teri," strolled toward me in a bathrobe and high heels, an enigmatic smile on her lips. Not only was she beautiful, she was also intelligent, and - a rarity for a "horror porn" movie "scream queen" - she could actually act. My hormones kicked into overdrive as I realized her hot, incredible body was naked under there. There was fake blood and "claw marks" all over her face. She glanced down at her gory "remains" on the ground and shuddered.

"God, that is gross - and too real," she said. "I was watching playback through the monitor while they were filming. It worked really well. First they have the real me naked and screaming with stage blood all over me, and then they cut to you shrieking. When they came back, my dummy's in the scene. It looks like they're actually tearing me apart and eating me. I almost passed out when Pete bit into 'my great big juicy tits!' Gaaahhh! Such dialogue."

She grinned wickedly.

"No way I'm gonna take my mom to see this. She'll have a heart attack!"

She put her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"So...just because you're a 'widower' now, don't get any ideas about carrying on with other women, lover," she whispered.

"Wouldn't think of it, hun," I returned.

"Hey - Juli, Rob!" Bruce had a scowl on his face, but his eyes were twinkling. "I know this is going to break the hearts of you two lovebirds, but, after lunch, we'll have to re-shoot the ass-fuck scene where you guys wake up in the morning. We had a camera conk out. Be ready."

He stalked away toward the lunch wagon.

Julianna shivered in delight.

"Three ass-fucks in one day! How lucky can a girl get?"

"Indeed," I said, stroking her cheek.

"I have to take a shower and get all this dirt and icky stage blood off me. Care to join me? We could go back to the house and use the bathroom off the master bedroom to shower, and then we could, umm...'rehearse' our cornhole scene."

I smiled and kissed her again.

"One of the advantages of using a real house for a set. Everything works."

We headed back across the yard to the house. I put my arm around Julianna's shoulders, and my smile broadened into a grin.

Ah, yes, it was a dirty job - but somebody had to do it!

* * *

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