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.