Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: Introduction's in the story...|
Hi there, dear readers. Today I've decided it's about fucking time that I get around to uploading one of my stories. If you like, feedback would be appreciated. If you don't like feedback would still be appreciated. Tell me if I get to cliche or crappy or romantic, this story was, after all, originally for my girlfriend and that's totally her thing. Without further ado...
A ZOMBIE STORY by Mr Anonymous
Chapter 1 - Introductions (and me setting the pace)
The wind picked up, rocking the dinghy back and forth, gently lulling Troy into a sense of restfulness. The warm breeze lingered over him, tugging gently on the fishing cord, one of his few luxuries that was delivered to him by airdrop yearly. At 23, Troy Ranger was a wonderfully well-built young gentlemen. Rich, too. Before he moved to his personal island, Isle Ranger (also the reason for his change in name, it used to be Astra, but he preferred to disassociate himself from his parents), he was a well-learned and clever aristocrat. His mothers business had been given to him, which he promptly sold for three times its base value, two parts of which he gave back to her. She thanked him, assuring him of her support, and he assisted her in buying it back for half its original value. He proceeded to use the money earnt through that process by associating himself with a certain 'Armatek Weapons Development'. With his business and scientific advice, he rose through the ranks to chairman of the board before becoming a ceo for two (at twenty one, yes) years. He funded and overwatched the development of directed energy weapons and advanced ballistics, earning himself a 110 million. He strongly opposed bioweaponary, but when the pressure from the board became too high, he folded to their requests, sending the business in the right direction for the field before resigning to general upsettedness. Despite his opposition to bioweaponary, his colleagues sorely missed him and his accomplishable character, the ability which allowed his ex-company to become a pinnacle of weapons development. Being a rather rich individual, he was immediately begotten with requests for money from everyone, family, friends, even ex-girlfriends. In order to seek his peace, he bought Ranger and the second name that went with it and, like that, his problems vanished.
His large house was built on the isle to be completely self sufficient. Despite the fact that he was perfectly capable of farming his own food, he much preferred hunting small game and fishing with improvised tools. It had an authentic feel to it.
The wind picked up gently and in the distance a storm cloud was brewing. Decided it best not to tempt nature, he turned around, and started heading back, past the eastern edge of the island. The electric dinghy cruised through the water silently where, as he turned the bend of trees directly in front of the southern edge of the isle, he was greeted by an omnious and rather absurd sight. A small cruise ship,capable of ferrying approximately fifty individuals, had washed up on the curved inlet of the southern beach. He observed the ship, head cocked to the side, looking rather like a bird or a curious puppy, eyebrow raised and mouth slightly agape.
The dinghy moved closer to the ship, inertia driving it. He tossed the anchor of the prow, before smoothly removing his shirt then diving into the water. The sudden splash awoke his relaxedness as he swung his arms in a freestyle arc, swimming towards the boat. Upon reaching it, he found the dilema of climbing aboard. Fortunately for him, the previous inhabitants had clearly abandoned the ship using life rafts, with lines stretching into the water. He grasped one and rappeled himself up to the top, training from his time as a weapons developer (people that make guns tend to need to know how to protect themselves) kicking in. He reached the top, before vaulting over the rail to meet a grisly sight. His stomach heaved as his eyes traced the almost bone dry bodies on the floor, surrounded by red and strange black stains. An omnious feeling prickled his back and he looked around for a weapon. On the floor, in between two bodies who appeared to have been brutally fighting before one skewered the other in the face before breaking his own back, lay a sturdy blackened crowbar. Troy picked it up, testing the weight, flicking it over his arms, around his waist and between his fingers. Satisfied, he headed toward the prow of the boat, where the bridge was situated (a bridge is like a control room). He knocked on the door gently. Hearing nothing, he kicked it open, off its hinges, sending the door skittering into the room where it collided with what was seemingly a shambling corpse. The... Creature, for lack of a better word, picked itself clumsily up and hurled itself towards the door. Despite his suprise Troy sidestepped it, swinging the crowbar at its passing legs, tripping the creature. It spun around and attacked him again, but he placed the crowbar between it and him and the creature skewered itself slightly on the rounded end. Blackish blood leaked out of the wound and the creature snarled, a feral rasping growl, pulling itself back, off the crowbar. Troy grasped it firmly, holding it ready. The creature lunged once again and Troy swung the crowbar in an uppercut, smashing through its jaw with the pointed tip, destroying the frontal lobe of the thing's brain. The creature dropped instantly and black blood flowed thickly from the wound.
Chapter 2 - ft. more introductions, annoying undead and a painful punch to the face
As it dully thunked the floor, Troy studied the creature, wondering what type of thing it was. It was humanoid and it had clearly once been human, judging by that ridiculous sailors outfit... An idea crossed his mind, born of popular culture and a clever book entitled 'The Zombie Survival Guide'. The description matched almost perfectly, besides the snarling and the almost clever way in which the thing attacked. He turned around, discarded the gory mess of a crowbar, observing the bridge, gathering intel reports and data files (same thing, lol), finding the story of what happened aboard this vessel...
Summary: A total of fifty four individuals had left Port Kirstan a week before. Of them, 12 were sailors and the remainder, civilians. The official destination was north America, but three individuals knew this vessel would never make it. Those three were the Captain and two Verity Star employees. Verity Star is a specifically biological weapons developer. On board the vessel, the civilians were unaware that during there second lunch, Verity Star employees were assigned to directly deliver thirteen pouches of a liquid known as Solanark, a clever ebola hybrid. Solanark turns the victims into zombies and the entire purpose of the 'cruise' was to test the efficiency of Solanark. <end of summary>
Clearly, the Verity Star employees had succeeded in their operation... But all four lifeboat deployment areas were devoid of boats. Troy hoped the survivors had made it to safety. He listened intently and heard a very disturbing sound. In the distance, somewhere within the ship, was the sound of multiple individuals, banging, snarling and growling. Troy quickly checked the bridge for weapons and, bingo, a suppressed USP .45 pistol with four magazines of subsonic special forces ammo and a belt and holster to go with it. Perfect! He turned around, weapon holstered, moving sneakily towards the top deck stairs. Quietly, he ascended, before, out of nowhere, an infected dived at him, he pulled around, swinging the creature into the wall, before grasping what appeared to be a chair leg and shoving the pointed end into its eye. Hearing more snarling, Troy ducked a corner, threw the chairs in the shadowy area in front of bend and hid, drawing his weapon stealthily. The sound of footsteps approached and two creatures rounded the corner, staring intently at their dead... Buddy... Or whatever. Troy got his first proper look at the definetly mostly dead (oxymoron much?) creatures. In the original sense, they didn't look like zombies. They simply looked like really slim people, with greying, sunken in skin, red and yellow eyes and snarling jawlike teeth and extended clawlike nails. They looked around feverishly, searching for their would-be victim. One of them turned and entered an open room while the other head towards Troy, obviously not seeing him in the shadows. Troy slowly levelled his gun at the creatures head, squeezing the trigger. The creature snarled right before he'd finished pulling, but with a hissing schwap the creature was knocked back, a ragged hole in its head. It's buddy dived out of the room, but Troy was a few steps ahead, tracing the creatures path and landing a spine snapping shot to the back of its skull, decapitating the creature and sending mucus/black blood out of its mouth and into one of the hotel floor's doors.
Hearing that strange thumping still going off in the background, Troy slowly moved from door to door, knocking, then entering (he didn't want to suprise one of the freaks) before reaching the door that the thumping was clearly originating from. Thinking it best if he took out this target with a melee weapon lest he cause collateral damage on what the creature was attacking, he looked around and found a machette that one of the dead-and-staying-dead bodies was holding. The machette wasn't in good shape, it's hilt was made of brittle plastic (dumbass designer) and was hanging by a few pieces. He broke the already breaking plastic off, covering it in a discarded table cloth, before breaching the door the same way as before. It slammed open, the creature, who was standing in front of a dented metal closet, whipped around, but, as always, our protaganist was two steps ahead, this time quite literally, as he stormed across the room, swinging the blade and slicing the things right arm off. The creature swung with its remaining arm, but Troy blocked with the blade, causing the bloody thing shear its other arm off. Relentless, the infected dove itself at him, headfirst, but Troy knocked it back with the clothed 'pommel', before swinging the blade diagonally across its chest, shearing it almost in half, before pulling back and driving the blade directly into its eye socket, breaking parts of the skull with the force of the blow.
'Motherfucker,' he muttered, half-hissing the word.
He turned and glanced at the closet, crossing his fingers, before simply opening it. The dumbass zombie hadn't bothered trying the door. He swung the door open before being greeted by two sights; an underwear clad woman and her fist flying at his face. Poor Troy didn't stand a chance, the fist connecting directly with the side of his head knocking him right into unconsciousness. His last thoughts as he keeled toward the floor were 'At least she was hot.'
Chapter Three - Down to business (and that means sex)
A splash of water startled him awake and the world around him blurred into focus. The barrel of a gun, pointed directly at his nose, also came to focus and he looked up into easily the most amazing green eyes he'd ever seen. She glared back at Troy, pushing the gun roughly against the tip of his nose.
'Who are you and what do you want?! Are you one of those bastardo Verity Star employees?' Her sweet voice with a tiny Italian accent spiced the air, as her demands were spoken as harshly as such an obviously beautiful being could possibly manage. The thought of which brought a gentle smile to his lips, which probably saved his life. Being a (ahem, if I do say so myself) rather good looking dark-skinned young male, that killer smile could turn some of the hardest aristocrats to mush. It wasn't so overpowered on this young lady though, causing it to merely ease her glare into a look of slight hopelessness. He spoke up:
'I don't know very much about those Verity Stars you're talking about, but I do know that if I were, I'd ask you to pull that trigger, honey.'
He hadn't MEANT to utter the 'honey' part, but the words escaped his lips before he could shut them. The guilty look must have shown on his face as the woman gave him several looks, first of suprised and possible comfort, then of suspicion and annoyance and finally of hardened indifference.
'Sorry.' He muttered.
'For what?' She asked, confused and, again, suspicious.
'The honey part, I wasn't meant to say that. It's been a while since I've spoken to anyone.' He pushed himself off the sand, legs feeling like jelly, glad to see that the ship was far away, shadowed in the darkness of the setting sun. He could see his house from here, barely a hundred meters away. He took a better look at the woman as she stepped back and continued to hold the gun at his face, albeit closer to his neck.
She was about five to ten centimeters shorter than him (unless we talk penis lengths, Metric system, bitches), with back length golden hair, a tanned complexion, heightened cheek bones, and wonderful d-cup breasts. Due to the fact that she was primarily in her underwear, her form wasn't left to the imagination, but Troy did not mind one bit. Being an actually decent guy, Troy once-overed her with a quick glance before fixating himself on her eyes, trying hard not to stare at her delicious-looking boobs. She raised an eyebrow and slumped, dropping the gun on the sand.
As he watched it fall, he noticed something. The safety had been on and the woman hadn't switched it. The entire time, she'd had no idea what she was doing. She looked up at him sheepishly and said
'You know, first you apologise for being a flirt, natural in your cicumstance, obviously. Then you don't stare at my half naked body, preferring to look me in the eyes.' She stated, looking at Troy with wide eyes.
He shrugged and simply said
'It's not polite to stare and it's practically rude to be a douche-tune.'
She looked at him, her hardened character, visibly dissolving, tears welling in her eyes, before lunging herself at him, wrapping her half naked body around his (also half naked) chest. She grasped his head and suprised him by randomly kissing him enthusiastically (women. Make no fucking sense), his response equalling her actions. She pulled back, clinging to him, before dropping her head to his shoulder and absoloutely dissolving into tears. He patted her gently, slightly shocked at his emotions. He knew, from the few seconds he'd seen her before she knocked him out that he loved her. Just like that, he knew it and now he acknowledged it. He didn't know who she was, he didn't know where she came from, hell, he didn't even know her name. But he knew he loved her (aww that's so cuuuute. Lol.). Therefore, he rubbed her back and put her feet back to the sand, whispering gently past her hair and into her ear, calming her.
She gently sobbed into him and he pulled her legs up and carried her trembling body to the path that led into his house, one handedly opening the gate, and again opening the door, before closing it and locking it, for the first time. He walked over and deposited her on the sofa, propping her up and sitting next to her, stroking her hair. The tears stopped flowing and she finally looked up to see the tissue in his hand that he held to her face. She took it from him, wiping her face before looking over to him. The silence lasted a few moments before he broke it by merely saying,
'I never got your name.'
'Sarah. Sarah Cooper. 22. Heading to America to finish my tour after Italy. I'm an Australian citizen.' She stated, taking a brave stab at conversationalist tones. He looked at her bloodshot eyes and placed a hand on her cheek. He grasped her head, pulling her into a kiss. It was gentle, soft and she kissed back just how he liked it. He leaned away after the short exchange and stared at her.
'Are you the only person here?' She asked, this time sounding more... Well, sane.
'Yes. Island's mine. It's called Ranger?' came Troy's reply.
'Ranger?! Hold up, weren't you the ex-ceo of Armatek?!'
'Err, how do you know that? I changed my last name to lose affiliation. Too many people bothering me about money.' He replied, shocked by her knowledge.
'I'm the lawyer in charge of the name change.' she stated, simply. He looked at her with an expression that clearly said 'what the fuck?'.
'I was actually supposed to find and contact you. It's part of why I took my tour. You're a hard man to find, Mr Ranger.' Her tone had changed again. It was brisk and businesslike, the clearly enunciated syllables ringing of an authority that originated from both her homeland and her career choice. It honestly turned him on. He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
'Guess you got your wish. Even if it was in the weirdest way possible.'
She shuddered in response, tears trickling to her eyes.
'Those fucking Verity Star assholes. Cazzo! (forgive my terrible italian) They're so fucked up. They're going to pay for that human experimentation bullshit.' her tone had shifted again, anger simmering from her lips. He pulled her closer to him, patting her shoulders and muttering.
'You put that sexy Italian accent on whenever you get mad.'
'You like that, mio caro?' she purred. She leaned in, kissing him, passionately this time. He smiled and gently muttered back.
'Innocent looking lips like those seem to be acting a little too naughty for their looks.'
'Innocence can be corrupted. Corrupt me.' The last part came as a moan as he kissed down her chin and at her neck, licking up and around her ears. Her green eyes sparkled and a sexy, mischevious smile appeared on her lips. She kissed him, holding the expression as her hands made their way down his front, lightly touching the top of his vital mass, rubbing the top through his pants fabric. She released her lips from his, rolling him over, straddling him, before leaning in and kissing his neck, then his chest, then his abs, then deftly pulling away his coverings and giggling as his happiness leapt up to meet her. She looked at him, wiping her hair away from her goal, before placing her lips on his member and sinking down the top of his shaft. She went down four inches before coming up, generating suction on the head before pulling off it with a pop. She kissed the tip, rolling her tongue over the tip, before sinking down further, angling her throat to swallow his fifth and another half inches. She pulled four inches out again before sinking the six and a half inches that was his depth. Keeping herself balls deep, she rolled her tongue around him, before pulling back up, and sinking back down. She didn't gag once as his cock did not collide against her throat areas. She continued this bobbing process before he uttered
'Sarah, baby, I think I'm going to cum.' She grasped his balls, before sinking one of her nails into the visible cord connecting the two primary components. The slight pain coupled with actual pressure against his target increased blood flow but stopped him from climaxing. She smiled, taking herself off him, climbing up to reach him, before hesitating to kiss him. He grabbed her head and kissed her, while rolling her over, his cock pressed up against the wet fabric of her panties.
'This is hardly fair. Here I am, fully unclothed you're still wearing stuff.' He said, mocking dislike.
She looked at him and purred again 'Well, if that's such a huge problem... Get them off me.'
He grasped her boobs, through the fabric. After a moments contemplation, he ripped the clothes right off, the snap on bra simply unsnapping as he pulled it off her. The slight sting of the removed cloth turned her on slightly more, along with the primeval aggressiveness of the action. He was taking her and she was his. He reached under her and grabbed her not-so-snap-on panties repeating the maneuvore, this time ripping it away. He reached underneath him, placing his head at the tip of her entrance before sliding in before he encountered something he totally did not expect. Resistance. Not her resisting him, but a physical obstruction in his path. Her hymen? Impossible? But... What? He looked at her, eyes wide and she looked frightenedly back at him. He quirked an eyebrow and she said
'I'm sorry, I should've told you... I'm a virgin.'
'How... How does a super sexy lawyer like you stay a virgin till 22?!'
'Well... I never found the right guy. Now I have. He might've been at the ends of the world, but here he is.'
'Are you sure?'
Her confirmation was all he needed. He thrusted, sinking an extra two inches into her, tearing past the obstruction. She gasped, a few tears welling in her eyes. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, then the nose, the forehead and then the eyes. She looked at him with those green and gold flecked wells of stunning beauty before uttering the life changing words. 'I love you.' she said, whispering it combining love gilded by fear enlain with passion.
'I love you too, Sarah.' He said it back, with equal will, equal force, equal care. The sheer power of his kindness overwhelmed her and she curled into him. She then said something which astounded him further.
'This is it, huh?' she queried, sounding slightly disappointed.
'Pardon?' He replied, confounded and slightly hurt.
'We're having sex.' She stated, simply and kinda reassuringly.
'Um... No. We're kinda... Waiting.'
'For what?' She asked, confused now.
'The pain to go away'
'It doesn't hurt...?'
'Are you sure'
'Yes. Her final statement convinced him. He pushed into her and she arched her back, gasping as he pushed all the way into her. He looked at her with a grin.
'Oh. This is it.'
'Just the beginning... You know, if you want to, you can make noise.'
He pulled gently out, before she could reply, eliciting another gasp before, realising his instruction, gently cooed. He pushed in, slowly, and she moaned again, before he pulled out and medium slow pace thrusted with her. Using the couch to hold himself up, he placed his hand on her clit, rubbing circles around it. The task was difficult to keep up with the movement, so he gave in and simply hugged her close to him, kissing and licking her neck, tracing patterns into the soft, tanned skin. He continued to push into her, but with time, his gentle thrust became pounding and soon the air was full of the hypnotic noises of two sexy beings making passionate love. He pulled as far out without slipping as he could, before pushing deep into her. He slipped his hand down her chest, clenching her breasts, rubbing circles around her nipples. He felt himself reaching climax and her moans were drenched with passion. He pulled out before thrusting himself deep within her, beginning the twitching of his cock within her. The sensation of his twitching was too much for her to handle and she fell into orgasm with him, his warm streams of cum pumping gently into her. Semi-erect, he slowly pulled out of her, smiling, before rolling next to her. He pressed a button on the couch and it rolled out into a bed, blanket prepared and remote next to him. He switched the tv on, covered them both and promptly fell asleep to the tune of 'Blue moon' (Fallout: NV reference!).
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