It had been a few days, and the whole “escape” part of the plan had taken something of a backseat.

Sitting cross legged on the mattress, Brie considered the past few days. A lot seemed to have been learned while doing not a whole lot. For starters, there had been the first cooked dinner Brie had eaten in ages. Eating Becky’s newly superfluous breasts (with a side order of arm, because there was good eating to be had on a human arm) seemed a fantastic idea, using the criteria that had come to dominate the previous week (“Is it hot?”). The kitchen oven and microwave had long since stopped working, but they had matches and plenty to burn. They had sat in the gloomy basement of Malone’s, roasting human meat over an open fire, still coming down from the heady heights of their orgy. They held hands, smiling and giggling at each other-3 survivors in the city of the dead.

It turns out that breast are mostly made of fat, and that they don’t actually taste that good. Brie and Michelle had tried their best to be game about it, but there was just no escaping the fact that tits were not great dinner. Becky was actually a little offended at first-“My tits are the bomb! What the hell, you cut ‘em off and now you don’t even want them?!”-but she too had to admit that it wasn’t a premium dining experience. The arm and rib meat went down much better, much to Becky’s relief-it seemed embarrassing, somehow, to be considered untasty.

Feeling fuller and happier, the group had went to bed, and Brie thought about herself and her friends, and how they were still alive after all they had been through. She had a theory that she didn’t want to believe-that they were in the midst of turning without realising it. How else could they explain their increased durability and resistance to pain? She twirled her entrails with her finger as she through, as if she was subconsciously proving her own point. They may have suffered outrageous injury…but they were still acting human, right? Brie certainly didn’t think her mentality had changed much; she was still Brie, and her friends were still her friends. Maybe more than friends now actually, but the point stood. It was a puzzle she was simply unable to solve at that moment, and she had resolved to bring it up with her friends the next day. After they discussed their next move, which was very important, obviously.

They spent the next day fucking.

They spent more than a few days fucking, actually. Other priorities just seemed to take a backseat. It was hard to focus on making more cunning plans when two naked, perverted, wonderful freaks of nature were making eyes at you from across the room. It helped that they no longer seemed to be in immediate danger. A zombie had once gotten in through an unlocked backdoor, watched them standing around in the main room talking about something or other, then turned back around and left. After reprimanding Michelle for being careless-she had fessed up to peaking outside once, out of apparent curiosity-they had carried on their merry way. Zombies just weren’t a big deal anymore, such was the plan’s success.

As an aside, Michele had confided in Brie that the truth to the unlocked door was grimmer than she had let on to Becky. The night before, she had heard a consistent scratching sound from somewhere in the dark. She almost left it alone until she heard a low voice moan, and realised that it was coming from inside Malone’s. Investigating alone so as not to panic anyone, she discovered that Ol’ Pat had reanimated in the cupboard, and had been trying to get out. She had wheeled the old man outside, near the entrance to the nearby national park, and simply left him there.

“That was brave of you, going out alone in the dark like that with a zombie.”

“I wasn’t afraid. I’m not afraid of anything in this city anymore. Apart from humans, I guess…”

“Uh, sure. Deep, man.”

The question of how Ol’ Pat had zombiefied without any apparent contact with the undead remained a complete mystery. Michelle had hypothesized that the virus, or whatever it was that was causing all of this, was airborne. This raised even more questions-did it only affect those who were dead? Had they contracted it already? All they had were questions.

“If only there was some way to find out for sure. Like, maybe there’s a secret lab or something like in Resident Evil. We could go and find out what happened.” Brie mused.
“I haven’t played those games.”

“Oh. Well basically its always because scientists did science. But in a bad way, and then zombies happen? I dunno, it’s been a while. You’ve really never played them? Jill sandwich, “I hope this isn’t Chris’s blood”, those two dogs in the hallway…nothing?”

“We didn’t all waste out lives playing video games indoors, you know. Some of us read.”

“Whatever, Professor Noskin. Anyway…what were we talking about?”

That was about as deep as conversation went during the next three days. There was just too much fun stuff to do with each other, so many buttons to press and limits to find. Becky was particularly carefree with her heart, trying to rub it against everything and anything-hands, pussies, brains, skin, and so on. One she had wrapped Michelle’s skin around her heart so that the face was throbbing to the beat of the organ, staring out with red eyes and mouth. It had also become somewhat common to give her lungs a little squeeze whenever she was getting a little to rambunctious. She would be gasping and wheezing for a while, but she took it in good spirits. Becky had outwardly worried that the clearly functioning heart and lungs would tip off zombies to her real status, but the intruding zombie that had wandered into the bar didn’t seem to notice. After that, she was particularly fearless-not just with herself, but with the others, pushing them on to test their own capabilities when caught up in the moment.

As the most intact of the friends, and also the most naturally calm and intelligent, Michelle was often the “controller” of the three, dictating how and when they acted on their urges, and often being the one to dish out “punishments” whenever some unspoken code of conduct had been broken. Lung squeezes were a proven and effective weapon against Becky, but given that she had an extra arms advantage, it was easy to simply hold her down and let Brie met out justice. Justice often took the shape of a humerus up the asshole, often accompanied by Michelle tracing a finger inside her empty eyesocket, tapping away at the thin bone that lay between finger and brain. She had considered breaching the bone, but that might end up lobotomizing her friend, which was maybe taking things a little too far.

Brie was not beyond a little punishment herself. Once, Michelle had caught her fresh from a trip to the bathroom (they used an old basin, given that the water was off), casually wiping herself dry with Michelle’s face skin, urine dripping down into the empty eyeholes. Michelle had seen her former covering go through a lot of abuse the past few week-cut off from her, worn, stretched, shoved inside various holes and so on. But in her mind, this was just plain rude. It was particularly annoying because there was plenty of toilet paper, but she had used the skin anyway, perhaps thinking that it would be taken as funny, or sexy. Michelle had smiled, left the room, and bid her time. During their next threesome, she had let Brie eat out her skinless pussy as normal, as Becky worked on her personal goal of fitting both arms into Brie’s pussy, all the time waiting for the right time. Without warning, she rose, staring into Brie’s eyes as she positioned herself, holding her friend’s skull from the inside and positioning it below her. Brie had time to make eye contact, and in that moment she knew what was happening, but it was too late.

A gentle golden stream drenched her brain, spilling into the tiny crevices between organ and skull. Accepting her fate, Brie stared flatly ahead as the remaining space inside were filled by Michelle’s piss-she swore some came out of her eye sockets. When Michelle was done, she calmly announced that she was away to clean up with some toilet paper, “of which there is plenty, might I add.” She graciously allowed Brie to follow her so that she could clean up, which mostly consisted of tilting her head into a tub and letting the pee run into it.

Brie was not a fan of water sports, but she was always willing to try new things, and so had let the incident slide without comment. This was also partly down to her eagerness to ruin her own brain. Perhaps this was why her thoughts had been so fuzzy recently. Something about her most fundamental organ-the centre of her own being-being used as a toilet, or a cumdumpster, turned her on something fierce. She would have dearly loved to have served it as a snack to her friends, to let them eat it right out of her skull until she was completely empty-headed, but again, there were certain risks the group new not to take, and the actual destruction of vital organs was one of those risks. Even Becky made sure to tuck her heart away carefully when it was not being used for sexy times.

Of course, there was plenty going on further south. Much like her pussy, the hole in Brie’s abdomen had grown even wider, with so many hands going in and out of it. Her intestines now trailed down to at least her knees at all times, often dragging along the floor. Michelle and Becky had each taken a turn fondling her kidneys, spleen, stomach and so on. Becky had managed to shove her whole head in there, once the intestines were out of the way. She had licked her friend’s spine and pressed her face against the skin on the back, poking an eye through the hole in the back where the knife had once gone.

Her womb had received the most attention of anything. Whether it was inside where it should be or dangling between Brie’s legs, it seemed like it was always being touched in some way, the cervix stretched way open to allow probing hands inside. It had been stepped on, bitten and even used as a very floppy dildo, which in all honesty was more entertaining in theory than in practice. Brie had considered just yanking the whole thing out entirely, birth canal and all. She would miss the feeling, though. It stayed for now, almost always gaping open, inviting more lust from her friends.

So the days passed. It may well have continued as such for longer, had they not been interrupted.

It started with the sound of machine gun fire, late in the evening. The rattle and boom of firearms had been a part of the background for so long that at first, it didn’t even register with the girls. They were also somewhat distracted with each other, entwined on the floor and bound together with Brie’s entrails. But the gunfire wouldn’t stop, eventually distracting Brie enough to halt the night’s fun.

“Sorry, but…that’s a whole lot of shooting going on.” Michelle instantly looked worried.
“Do you think….the army?” she asked, wiping her mouth with her fleshy arm. The thought was more distressing than relieving. A week ago they would have wept for joy. Now? Just more chance of them getting killed. They untangled themselves from Brie, who began to wind her guts back inside of herself, as Becky hovered nervously towards the windows.

“Let me have a look.”

“What? No, get down from there!”

“See anything?”

“…”

“Becky?”

“Who the hell are those guys? Never seen a uniform like that before…” she muttered.
“Come here, have a look.”

The girls all huddled up beside her. Brie could see a dozen or so men dressed head to toe in what looked like a cross between riot gear and military wear, wielding assault rifles. Bodies littered the roads, blood and brains smeared across the pavement. The men had stopped, with one man apparently communicating with someone over a headset. The survivors couldn’t take their eyes off of the site-a mysterious, organized and well-equipped force had sprung from seemingly nowhere, risking their lives for some mysterious cause.

The leader nodded his head, taking his hand away from the earpiece. Then he looked in their direction. Maybe he made eye contact-it was hard to tell at this distance. All three girls gasped and sunk beneath the window. Becky’s heart and lungs were working overtime, the pink organs rising and falling rapidly, the heart beating out a tense rhythm. They dared not look back, dared not move.

When the door got kicked in, Brie screamed for the first time since this all began.