It was maybe half an hour after escaping her apartment when Brie began to list a few flaws in her cunning plan. That’s not to say it hadn’t gone well-she was still alive after all, and there was a certain thrill to walking around her hometown more exposed than she’d been in her life-but there were a few little critiques nagging away at her.

The first problem was that it was quite difficult to move around with a broken foot and a loop of intestine sticking out of your stomach. This was not a surprise-her plan was essentially the ultimate calculated risk after all-but that did not make her trek down the cold streets any easier. The hundreds of zombies that kept getting in the way simply added to the hard work, and Brie was hardly going to ask them if they could kindly get out of the way. As it was, she was forced to continue along at a snail’s pace, trying to keep upright at all times without appearing to be trying to do as such, all while giving off period moans and the occasional rasp.

The second problem was that she didn’t have any shoes on. This may appear to be a minor problem, some way below “zombie apocalypse”, “most of skull missing” and “naked in public” (which was technically true). But Brie had failed to take into consideration that her good foot was now getting absolutely shredded by glass, garbage and even shards of bone from those lucky/unlucky enough to be lying dead on the street, instead of walking undead across it. The painkillers were enough to keep her from being in too much pain, but she was concerned that her good foot might get damaged.

Speaking of painkillers, there was problem number three: Sooner or later the painkillers, antihemorrhagics, Prozac and so on would eventually start to wear off, which means she would soon have to find somewhere quiet to pop the necessary pills. Which was easier said than done-zombies were seemingly everywhere. Brie would have to find a place to lay low, and soon. But where? Brie had a lot to think on as she turned onto West Street, which would start to lead to her to the more industrial part of town. Her theory was that if she could follow the rails, she would get out of the urban centre and into smaller towns, with less zombies-or maybe even a survivors centre. Assuming they didn’t immediately shoot her for looking too much like a zombie, she could get the medical supplied she needed to stitch herself back together and wait for this whole thing to blow-

“MOTHERFUCKEEEEEERS!”

A zombie near the front of the crowd exploded into a red mist. She gasped in shock, which may have been a fatal mistake had the sound not been covered by deafening gunfire. Straight ahead, running across the street and into an alleyway, a young man with a Mohawk and an assault rifle sprayed the crowd of undead with bullets. Behind him, more zombies had emerged from a newly opened door. It seemed like his hiding place had been compromised, and he was not taking it well.

“DIE YOU BRAIN-EATING FUCKS!” he offered, before hurtling into the alley. A split second later, Brie seen two more youths-one man, one woman-charge out. The woman was unarmed and mostly just screaming and wind milling her arms like a tiny Chinook, but the man, wearing a trench coat, was wielding a katana. He attempted what surely must have been a graceful decapitating blow in his own mind. The blade got lodged in a burly zombie’s shoulder. Paling somewhat, he fled down the same hole his companion had scurried into. The crowd lurched as one after them. Well, almost one. Opportunity had arisen for Brie.

Slowing down as much as she could without just standing still, Brie ended up at the back of the crowd, before subtly moving in the opposite direction. She could still hear the spirited screaming of the survivor group, and a part of her felt a little bad for them-they wouldn’t last long. Another part of her felt very glad indeed that she hadn’t gotten to close to her, or she would probably be dead by now. For the first time she felt a little breathless-the bullets from that machine gun could very easily have decimated her, had it not been for her own good fortune. Her grip on her hair was vice like, her knuckles white as bone. She needed to be alone for a minute, to be herself again.

10 minutes of relatively zombie-free shambling later, and Brie found herself surrounded by warehouses. Somewhere like this would be perfect to hide for a night, to get some sleep, take pills and maybe some “stress relief” while she was at it. Most of them were, of course, locked. But God rewards a trier, as wise Grandpa Weir would say. After almost giving up in sheer frustration, Brie found a side door on the side of a small warehouse that was slightly ajar. Caution having long since been thrown to the wind, Brie peered inside. Nothing. Dead silence greeted her. She could see a couple of large metal containers, and stairs leading up to a room, with another open door. Hobbling in, she quietly shut the door behind her, before heading up to the other room, hoping it was empty.

She was half right.

The headless remains of a zombie lay down on the floor, oozing blood. In front of it, slumped against a wall, was the body of a man. He had shot himself in the head. Bite marks were all over his corpse. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. That open door had cost him his life. Brie would not repeat that mistake. Lying beside him was a wicket looking combat knife, which might come in useful later.

There was a bag lying on a mattress to the side, containing various supplies-food, bandages, ammo and a crowbar. Placing the top of her head back on now that she knew she was alone, Brie took a couple of bites out of some bread to keep her going. Then, she reached inside her abdomen, searching for her bag of goodies. Once again her hand came to rest on her womb. Despite herself, Brie was getting some kinky ideas, but she needed to take care of some business right now. Retrieving the bag, Brie downed what she needed to down, drinking it down with a bottle of water. Conveying silent, brief thanks to the fallen survivor, Brie pulled the mattress over and dumped it over the banner and onto the floor below. She just couldn’t bring herself to sleep in a room with two dead bodies.

Grabbing the crowbar in one hand and the combat knife in the other, she made her way downstairs, and wedged it between the door and the bar, securing it in place. After a brief scout of the building to make sure she was safe and alone, Brie collapsed onto the mattress, feeling the tension leave her for the first time. Her skullcap fell off as she did so, but she couldn’t be bothered getting up again. It rolled away before circling and coming to a quavering stop nearby, the inside facing up. She lay her head down, making sure her brain didn’t touch the slightly dirty looking mattress. Her arms already started to move downward, exploring this new body. One hand went to where her right nipple used to be, only to find muscle and bone. The other trailed south down cut skin, until it ran into something smooth and slimy. Keeping it there amongst her own guts, Brie trailed her hand down to her clit, thanking herself for not making any modifications down there. Moaning for real this time, she slowly thumbed the little nub, all while her left hand slipped inside her stomach area. Curiosity was starting to overwhelm the poor girl.

Brie took the time now to explore her organs. She had already identified her womb, and what must have been the bladder near it. To reach further inside and see a little better, Brie removed most of her intestines from the cut, curling them up on the mattress. Now with more room to mess about in, she was able to identify her small kidneys, spleen, liver and stomach. Her heart and lungs were still just out of reach, and until she had a good reason to mess with them, they were staying untouched.

Brie’s right fingers soon joined her left hand inside her body, although this opening had been there a lot longer than the other. She had always been a bit looser than other girls, and it wasn’t long until she had three, then four fingers slowly sliding in an out of herself. Five minutes later and she was able to make a fist. She was working fast, but there was something resembling a plan forming inside her head. Her other hand had already hour her womb, and she traced fingers around it in wonder, feeling the small bumps that must be her ovaries on the side. As her right hand travelled up her vagina, she slowly pulled her womb upwards, making sure not to tear it out completely. She had to pull a few more coils of entrails out, but eventually she was able to look down and see her own uterus poking out of the wound in her abdomen. The sight, coupled with her fist finally bumping against her cervix, almost sent her over the edge, but she wasn’t there yet. Her fist started moving with some force now, and she started to squeeze her womb. Soon she felt a most alien sensation, even to her—something passing through her cervix and directly into the core of her own womanhood. She came hard, and had to stifle her own cry in her throat.

Breathing hard, she gently eased her head back into a comfortable position, intestines now strewn around the mattress, hands still inside herself. She theorized that the painkillers had allowed her to push through a normally insurmountable obstacle, as she had no idea she was fisting herself so hard. Flexing her fingers, she could see each digit’s outline against the walls of her womb. She did this for a minute or so, entranced, before starting to feel horny again. She wondered what else she could do…

Brie tried to slip her fist out of her pussy, forgetting it was still lodged in her womb. There was a sinking feeling as she pulled herself out, and when she looked down, she seen a red tube handing between her legs, leaking cum. Oops. Shrugging, she raised her soaking fist to her face, licking it. Feeling daring, she traced a wet finger around the raw circumference of her skull, occasionally letting it fall down the ridges of the other side. When the finger finally met with brain, it felt soft and rubbery against her touch.. Gently, she trailed her finger from one end of her brain to the other. Feeling nothing untoward happen, Brie grew bolder, adding more fingers in her trailing motions. Her left hand soon joined its partner. She pushed her fingers down the side of her brain, towards the bottom of her skull cavity. It was a tight squeeze, but she could just about slip her fingertips along the bottom edges of her brain. Brie wondered if she had a pleasure centre she could directly simulate, but all she felt was a bit tingly. She was feeling destructive again-her session in front of the bedroom mirror had awakened a dark side to her. She wanted to start tugging, to feel her spinal cord quiver with tension…but she at last stopped short, survival instinct still ingrained within her. There were lines that could not be crossed after all.

Sliding her hands out of her skull, Brie gave them another lick, tasting her own brain. She spread her hands out behind her, and inadvertently touched her own hair. Dragging the discarded piece of skull back towards her, Brie examined the inside. She wanted to take a sniff, but of course she had no nose now. The texture inside was bumpier than she had imagined. If only Michelle was here. She could have taught her so much more about the human body, now that so much of hers was exposed. She could have told her apart the different parts of her brain, thought Brie, hand slowly stroking the sensitive tube protruding from her pussy. Maybe she could have detailed each organ in her now gaping abdomen. Or let Brie perform a little home surgery on her fit body…

Brie’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden clanging noise. The side-door that she had previously secured rattled loudly, causing her to shoot straight upright and get to her knees, her prolapse swaying behind her. The clanging continued for a bit, giving Brie time to compose herself, spool her intestines back so they were mostly inside her, and get into character once more, on the off chance that the door opened. It did not. Time passed. A muffled voice could be heard, sounding out what sounded like coherent sentences rather than brainless moaning. A survivor? Brie thought about opening the door…then hesitated. She was safe here, and opening that door would compromise that safety. She remembered the bullets whizzing past her earlier. Brie stayed where she was.

Eventually, silence reigned once more. Still, it was enough to shock Brie out of her lust-fuelled haze. She suddenly felt tired as the tension left her, and she realised that she had not slept in nearly a whole day now. She had enough energy to drag the mattress behind one of the metal containers: it wasn’t really making her any safer, but it created the illusion of safety, which Brie was happy to settle for. Gently laying down once more, she was soon fast asleep.

Morning sunlight fell on Brie’s face as she woke. She opened two tired eyes, feeling woozy and in pain. Pain…that’s right, she had cut herself open. Because of the zombies. For a second she was sure that had been a dream, but the various aches and the odd feeling in her stomach confirmed otherwise. Water…she needed a drink, for her medicine. Groaning, she shifted out of bed. Climbing the steps felt like an eternity. Her feet were particularly painful, both from broken bones to the fact that she had went barefoot through city streets during a zombie apocalypse. Finding the water where she had left it, she chugged it, then took her medicine.

Sighing with a certain satisfaction, she considered her next move. It was safe in here, but she would eventually have to leave anyway-might as well leave now while she still had some supplies. But she had begun to reconsider her earlier plan-the idea of walking long distances was looking more and more unappealing. Besides, she wasn’t as keen on meeting survivors now. Originally she had intended to win over survivors, somehow. Now she doubted any stranger would accept her as a fellow survivor. Hanging around with the zombies seemed a safer bet than angry, frightened, gun-wielding maniacs.

But what if she found a friend? Last night’s erotically charged fantasy of her former roommate had now made Brie feel a bit lonely. She had written her friends off for dead while she was in that apartment, thinking that she was going to die. But that was the old, negative Brie. Who’s to say they hadn’t found their own way to survive, and had simply not been able to get back to the apartment? It had been right in the middle of zombie central after all. As long as she kept up the zombie façade, she had free reign to explore the town for places they were likely to head to. Brie was sure that if they could only hear her speak, they would know that she was not a zombie. Then she could be in a familiar space, rest her feet and relax with her BFF’s. They maybe wouldn’t be up for anything more intimate given the state she was in, but at least she wouldn’t be alone in a warehouse with two dead guys. And if Michelle knew where to get medicine, she would be all set. Maybe Becky could find more weed for her too...