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Aberrant: Dead Rising - Of Fallow Fields And Fallen Friends

Krysti-Lynn Magnussen

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July 18th

Kristin woke up late, eyes grainy from sleeping poorly. Finding the baby in the super-zomb's laboratory had reawakened her nightmares. She was tense and sore, the images that had flashed through her head filling her with dread.

... There was a terrible, high-pitched squealing ringing in her ears, her belly swelling under a horrible, roiling pressure, the leech-man and the leech-woman pinning her down with inexorably strength as their slimy, wriggling progeny slithered from between her muscled thighs in an unending stream, far more than her engorged womb should have been able to contain, a flood of monstrous leeches turning on their mother, drinking her blood like vampires, and she screamed and screamed and...

Kristin sat up on her bed, shuddering and holding her head in her hands. Ashley was already gone. Preparations were already beginning to move the Refuge to the island, and though she would help, right now, she couldn't stay here, not in the same enclave as the baby.

And anyway, even though most people were moving to the new location, Kristin was planning on staying as part of the skeleton crew maintaining the old place. She felt safe here and the last time she had left what she thought of as a safe place, she and Ashley had ended up in Paradise.

She needed something to do beyond puttering around the Refuge and dwelling on the baby developing inside her, needed something to make this more of a home, so she was planning on starting some crops in her own field. Talking with some of the other farmers - the ones who weren't too wary around her - they had come to the conclusion that only heritage plants and seeds - those that hadn't been genetically modified - were growing with any reliability. Most of the seeds that she and Ashley had were going to the island, but she kept a variety of the heritage seeds they had for their own plot.

The brawny girl stood up and stretched, frowning at the way her ever swelling breasts and belly protruded, then got dressed, jeans and a white tank-top. With the additional height and dense muscle she had gained from the manifestation of a new power, some of Kristin's clothes no longer fit, but most of it still did, if now tighter, and she had added some more from the surplus she had in her and Ashley's storage shed.

Kristin ate a quick breakfast of canned peaches and pears, then left her room in Violet's, walking across the compound to where her truck was parked. People, especially men, gave her a wider berth than usual. Three more inches of height and some sleek muscle added to her already powerful physique made her seem just a bit more formidable, intimidating, despite a sheath of softness from her progressing pregnancy. The wariness in her eyes when she was in the presence of men was replaced by a harder, daringly challenging light.

She checked that the bed of her truck was still packed with her farming supplies, especially the hand-plow she had traded for from another farmer. It was meant to be pulled by a horse or an ox, but it was in perfect condition and she was far stronger and healthier than any animal. She wouldn't even have been taking her truck, to save on the gas, but she was still looking for a good field near the Refuge. The closest, suitable places were already claimed, but anywhere within a few miles was still in jogging distance for her.

Plus, she had promised Ashley she'd look around for any sign of Doug, someone she knew from Tent City. He and some of his friends hadn't been seen since they had gone on a salvage operation several days ago. She wasn't the best tracker or anything, but she didn't have to worry about zombs either.

Satisfied with her truck, Kristin climbed up behind the wheel and drove out of the Refuge, roiling like a kicked ant hill in the frenzy of packing, heading North-East. That had been the basic direction the salvage party had headed, so was as good a place as any to look for an unclaimed field and signs of what had happened to Ashley's friend.

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The paved road curved more East than North, mostly cleared this close to the Refuge, the abandoned vehicles either scavenged for parts or pushed to the side of the road. The few lingering in the way Kristin took the time to shove out of the way, after siphoning any remaining gas. She was still impressed at - and enjoyed - how easily her dense build could shift tons of weight, even more easily since she had stolen the Leech-Man's strength for her own. With a pleased smile, she watched the play of muscles under her thick shoulder and bulging bicep as she lifted a school bus over her head... with one hand and set it down off the road. She wondered how far she could throw it, if she had wanted to.

I need to find a train-yard or junk-yard or something and really let myself cut loose, find out what I can do...

Continuing down the road, Kristin frowned at the tilled fields. Things weren't growing as well as they would have liked, and even with some crops starting to sprout, Kristin knew it would be a lean winter. A large part of their yield would need to be saved for next year. Organic produce had been an ever rising industry before Z-day, but heritage plants still weren't widespread. Maybe we should get the farmers together and see if we can set up a raid for a commercial seed distribution center. There was a place in Dallas that was pretty good for heritage plants I think, Wichita too.

Still musing, Kristin turned left off the paved street onto a gravel road when she got past the already cultivated fields, looking for a place that would work for her own field. Here, she slowed down even more, taking frequent stops so she could take a closer look around, feel the dirt, and get a feel for the wind. There were few zombies this close to the Refuge and none of them survived a swipe from an iron bar powered by an superhumanly strong arm. With the shut-down of the vast majority of industry and so few cars on the road, even the rural towns had noticeably cleaner air. With less pollution in the air, will things grow better, enough to notice?

It was past noon when Kristin found a place that showed a good deal of promise. Drinking water from a canteen, Kristin began walking around the old farmstead. It looked like it had been abandoned even before Z-day, probably bought by a large commercial outfit but never redeveloped. The fields weren't huge, but they were a decent size. They had lain fallow for some time, and though neatly bordered by strips of trees - even some wild apple trees they might be able to replant - to act as windbreaks, the underbrush had spread wildly and would need to be trimmed back and the irrigation ditches cleared.

The top of the fields were hard and dry, but digging down, she found the earth below the surface to be rich and dark. She'd have to turn all the earth before planting, but there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it, it just hadn't been tilled on some time, years, maybe even decades. Huh, I wonder why? Maybe a government project that fell through or something or the landowner was holding onto the place to sell at a better time that never game.

She was greatly pleased to find a small creek running through the property, a steady source of water if they didn't spread it to thin. The farmhouse might even have a few water-pumps still working. The farmhouse was worn, but she might be able to fix it up some and there was three barns forming an open-sided barnyard. They definitely needed some repair - she might have to dismantle one of them to repair the other two. If the field proved itself viable and productive, she could build another one later (if she got help).

With rising excitement - the place kept showing more and more promise - Kristin loped towards the barns with boundless energy, wandering if they held any farming equipment still in good repair she could still use. The world had grown quiet, save for the whisper of wind and the rustling of the trees and long grass, but it didn't weigh on her, though she wished she still had her pet goat, Chewy. I hope he is okay. Maybe I should ask Mr. Fox if can make a warp close to our old camp, so I can check....

Humming to the music cycling on her mp3 player, Kristin came to an alert stop as she got close to the nearest barn, thick muscles tensing as she raised her iron bar. She had found her first sign that all was not well with the farmstead. A body laying in the grass near a side wall of the barn.

Warily, Kristin approached, looking around for any signs of danger or of who had done this. Though it was a sad testament to what had befallen the world since Z-day, a body had become a casual sight. But this one didn't look like it had ever been a zomb. It reeked, and she could see maggots squirming on it, in it, but it didn't look bloated or stiff anymore. She could even make out the face, though one eye had burst and the other looked like a pale prune, and the face was slack and waxy. The body wasn't fresh, but it hadn't been dead for longer than a few days.

Holding a hand over her nose, it was only when she was standing over the body that Kaitlin realized that though the face was turned up to the overhead sun, the body was laying on its front. The head had been twisted all the way around. He'd been killed, and not by a zombie, considering the lack of bites. After a moment of hesitation, Kristin reached into the back pocket, pulling out wallet. Even though they were mostly useless now, most people still kept their wallets, a symbol of the time before Z-day, and who they were then. She shook off the maggots and bugs and flipped the wallet open.

"Maxwell Pearson, eighteen," Kristin murmured, reading his driver's license. "Shit." He wasn't Ashley's friend Doug, but he was one of the guys who had been on the last raiding mission with him. "Who did this to you? And where are the others?"

Suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently knocking, rapping at the big barn door.

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At the sound, Kristin jumped back, startled, muscles coiling and springing like those of a powerful jungle-cat, and raised her iron bar menacingly, the metal compressing under the force of her tight grip. The thumping at the door came again, then there was a shuffling sound, as of feet being dragged. Something scratched at the walls and only now did Kristin noticed the cracked board making a small hole in the side of the barn. Sunlight fell on something dark as it passed back and forth in front of the hole.

Not wanting to break the barn anymore than necessary - hopefully, she would be using it - Kristin stalked along the wall and around the corner until she found the large sliding door. She frowned, stretching her broad shoulders. The door was locked by a thick, rusty chain wrapped through the heavy staples and secured with a padlock. She wasn't scared - even pregnant, she was tougher than almost anybody and just as strong - but she was learning super-zombs could be dangerous and she wasn't sure what was going on on this farm. But she wasn't willing to give it up yet. it had too much potential for what she wanted.

Kristin reached out a hand, easily ripping the padlock to pieces, and unraveled the chain. Whatever was inside the barn had stopped moving. Kristin paused a moment, waiting for it to start moving again, but when it stayed silent, she slid open the door with one restrained shoved, then hopped back towards the middle of the barnyard.

"Whose ever in there, come out, NOW, and I won't hurt you!" Kristin demanded, iron bar held at the ready like a sword.

A long minute later... a zomb shambled out. A regular, everyday zombie, once a woman, wearing hardly more than rags and a single show. She was desiccated and pale, but not as rotted as many other zombies, and her mouth was crusted with dry, dark blood. Kristin watched in wary interest as the zombie staggered right towards her, making a rasping gurgle noise. When it got close, she held it back with the end of her steel bar, but all the zombie did was strain to reach her with its clawing hands.

Why would anyone lock up a zombie? she ponder, fair brows wrinkling in puzzlement. Especially when no one is using the farm. Unless someone is... She didn't want to steal the farm if someone was using it. On the other hand, if a man was locking up zombies instead of killing them, he probably needed killing himself. Hornsbeck had kept zombies too.

She made a low swipe with her impromptu club, shattering both of the zombie's thighs. It fell with hardly a sound and began clawing itself across the ground towards her with mindless tenacity. When it got close once more, Kristin mercilessly stomped on its head, crushing its skull into mulch. The body spasmed, then was still.

"Just a stupid, normal zomb. You didn't kill Max," Kristin said to herself. "So, who did?"

The brawny, mature-bodied girl-woman glared around the farmstead, debating where to start looking first. The farm looked abandoned, but it didn't seem as devoid of life - or unlife - as she had first thought.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Kristin gave the farmhouse a suspicious look - it was the obvious place to look first - then rolled her powerful shoulders and turned to the three barns. She was here and already found a trapped zomb, she didn't want to leave the barns behind her unchecked. She peeked in the barn the zombie was in first, finding it empty save for some old, stale hay and several rusty gaff-hooks hanging from a thick nail driven into one of the support beams. The lofts held only dust and loose planks of wood.

After crushing the lock on the middle barn and sliding the door open, Kristin found a beaten-up tractor hitched to a large, flatbed trailer. On the flatbed, there was a neat stack of tools: shovels, pitchforks, a pickaxe, and even a scythe. Everything would need sharpening, but otherwise, they looked useable.

The last barn held several stalls for animals, though from the smell, it hadn't held any in a long time. One corner held a pile of old milk collection cans, but looking around, she didn't see a milk pipeline, so dairy hadn't been a major thing for this farm. Still, if she could find some cows, she'd have a place for them. The pasture had seemed fair enough to support them with some extra feed. The rest of the barn seemed to have been used mostly for storage, though it wasn't storing much, other than old barrels and baskets and mice.

That left the farmhouse. Kristin stepped out of the barn, sneezing as dust tickled her nose, then froze. Her truck was gone! She had parked right on the side of the road in clear view and it now it was gone! Adrenaline pumping, Kristin ran around the barn with the speed of a galloping horse and stopped again, finding her big truck sitting by the back of the farmhouse. She wouldn't have seen it from the road. How'd it get there? I didn't even hear the engine start up!

Kristin continued at a brisk, stealthy jog, her iron-bar held at the ready, and crept up to the backdoor of the farmhouse. She cocked her head, straining to hear anything, but all she heard was the wind and one of the barn doors creaking. But she knew someone was in there - there had to be. Mouth tightening in anger, Kristin banged on the door with the end of her metal club.

"Whoever's in there, this is my truck and my stuff, you can't have it!" Kristin shouted. "You hear me?"

"I hear you, Kristin," replied a deep, resonant voice. "But you see, this is my farm. Mine and Jenny's." The door open with a soft squeal and Kristin jumped back off the veranda, metal bar held up threateningly as she looked up at the huge figure that stepped through. "You're Ashley's cousin, aren't you? She was nice to me. You weren't, even when I just tried to say hi." The figure smiled, and flexed an arm, muscles bulging prodigiously and a small whimper escaped through Kristin's lips. "You should be nice to me now, Kristin. I'm as super as you are now. As super as James. I have Jenny, but James has more women and I think I should have more too. Don't you, Kristin?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

It was Doug, Kristin knew it was Doug, and he had become a super.

His rich baritone caressed her almost tangibly and his piercing blue eyes ravished her. Kristin followed convulsively, her nipples stiffening painfully, a dampness spreading between her thighs. Despite herself and the trauma she had suffered, Kristin couldn't help but find him gorgeous. He was huge, dwarfing James - nearly seven feet tall and muscled like a god, easily seen since all he was wearing was a pair of jeans. And they did nothing to conceal the massive size of his hardening manhood straining at the denim.

His skin was also frightening pale, almost translucent, like alabaster... or a corpse. His veins were thick and ropey and solid black, and his fingernails were the deep blue-purple of a bruise. When he smiled through his sensuous lips, his perfectly straight teeth were discoloured and his canines were suspiciously long.

Doug wasn't just super, he was a super-zomb!

"No..." Kristin whispered, slowly backing up, unconsciously lowering the pipe.

"Come now, Kristin," Doug rumbled persuasively, smirking at her obvious arousal and overlooking she obviously was distressed at it as he swaggered forward. "I'm exactly the type of man you need. You're so beautiful and strong, you'd - heh, heh - you'd kill a lesser man." He stopped right in front of her, gently pushing her club aside than tapped his chest with a finger as he looked down at her. "But I'm powerful enough, man enough to satisfy you. Just like you're tough enough and woman enough to satisfy me. I love Jenny, but... but I have needs now, you understand? And she isn't enough. But you would be, Kristin. I swear."

Kristin shivered. His breath smelled like a slaughter house, but just the sound of his voice was nearly making her orgasm. He was almost as sexy as Violet, but with an overpowering masculinity that was making her week in the knees. No matter how much she would prefer it, had lied about it when she was in Violet's arms, she wasn't a lesbian. Doug was a million times worst than Hornsbeck - he was making her want him be her master.

"Go away... don't... don't touch me, Doug. I swear I'll kill you," she threatened weakly.

Doug ignored her threat with a confident smile, placing a large hand on her shoulder then sliding it down her back and urging her towards the farmhouse. Kristin could feel he was every bit as strong as she was.

"Just give me a chance, Kristin. Let me show you what I've done with the place. You'll see, I'm a good provider, better than James even. I'll take care of you and your baby." His tone rang with pride and assured duty. "And I'm sure Jenny would like another friend around the house. Maybe you can even ask Ashley to visit - I'd like to see her again too. And if you don't want to stay, you can do, of course, and I'll fill your truck back up with supplies."

Doug had Kristin back onto the veranda and almost in the door before she planted her feet and tried to glare accusingly at him over her shoulder. "But you killed Max!"

Doug sighed sadly and shook his head. "Max... Max wussed out and then tried to take Jenny from me. He shouldn't have done that. But you see, I was just protecting what was mine, those I love. The others... I buried them when they got sick, before they turned into zombies. They went through with our oath. You see, I'm a man of my word."

Giving Doug an uncertain look and judgment compromised by his staggering appeal, Kristin let herself be led into the house. Other than a slightly musty reek, it seemed to be in good condition, the furniture mismatched, but looking as if it had been purloined from The Brick or something. Passing by the dining room, Kristin's brows furrowed at the two plates left out, holding bones with only slivers of meat remaining on them. Those don't look like cow or pig bones...

"Come on, Kristin, this way, I want you to say hi to Jenny, so she can tell you how good of a man I am. She's been a little under the weather lately so she's been resting a lot," Doug said, his hand slipping lower and giving Kristin's firm behind a tight squeeze, making her jump and forget about the bones that were neither pig, nor cow, nor any other animal raised or hunted for food she was familiar with.

At the end of the hall, Doug reached over her and pushed open the door to the room. Kristin's throat tightened with an involuntary squeak. There was Jenny alright... tied down to the big, four-poster bed with nylon rope. Her face was ravaged, eyes blank with cataracts and lips peeled back to reveal yellowed teeth. Her emaciated body with pale and filthy, exaggerated by the filmy, silk nightgown she was wearing. Her head jerked to the side as the door creaked open, and seeing Kristin standing there, Doug looming behind, Jenny strained at her bonds, making a gurgling hiss.

Jenny was a zombie.

And not only was Doug a super-zomb, he was even more insane than the Leechman. And he was standing right behind her, filling the entire hallway, while she was all alone in the formerly abandoned farmhouse save for him and his zombie lover.

"See Jenny, I told you we'd get visitors coming around soon enough. Say hi to Kristin, she and her cousin will be moving in with soon in our own private enclave."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Doug saw Kristin tense at the sight of his 'first wife,' thick muscle bunching and rolling, and when she spun, the fury and disgust on her face, though he misapprehended the reason for it of course. He shot Kristin a disarmingly abashed grin - which still made her quiver with arousal - and patted her on the shoulder - his mere touch making her week in the knees, wanton fire raced through her veins - as he squeezed his muscular bulk pass her.

"Oops, sorry 'bout that, Kristin. You really have to forgive Jenny - not feeling well, she's let herself go. But don't worry, I'll fix her up right away," Doug assured her.

And following him with her eyes, Kristin stared in disgusted fascination as Doug bent over the tied-down form of Jenny, crooning as he caressed her with his huge hands. Kristin's mouth dropped open in complete shock as in moments, Jenny's dry skin softened, darkened pallor brightening into a healthy, tanned glow, as her body filled out, straining the seams of nightdress with Victoria's Secret Supermodel measurements.

"What! The! Fuck!?" Kristin shouted, her voice sounded odd to her own ears. She had enough of this freak. If she wasn't so weirded out and still trembling with inflicted desire, she'd have clubbed him to death right here - him and Jenny - but right now, she wanted out! Kristin fled, the farmstead seeming considerably less appealing.

She had just made it to her truck, her hand on the door when she heard Doug call out behind her, then a hand on her on her shoulder, "Kristin, wait, let me expl-"

She didn't. With out hesitating, Kristin whirled around, swinging her club in both hands, directly at Doug's head. There was a tremendous CLANG, her metal bent nearly in double, and Doug just looked down at her with a disappointed frown, apparently unharmed.

"Whuh?" Kristin stammered, her club hanging at her side.

"I told you, Kristin, I'm better than James," Doug rumbled, holding Kristin by the shoulders again, hot arousal coursing through her even stronger than before. "And Jenny is beautiful, but Kristin, you're a woman made for me, don't you see? Strong, powerful, and even hotter than Violet."

"Whuh? I'm not-" Kristin stuttered, befuddled, rage warring with desire.

"You are, look!" Doug spun her around so Kristin could get a look of her self in the side-mirror.

Kristin gasped. In the mirror, it was her... and it wasn't. She couldn't point out anything was changed to a noticeable degree, but the combination made for an unearthly beauty. She looked mature - though she couldn't pinpoint a firm age - radiant, and sensual, so ineffably stunning even Violet would envy her.

"What did you do to me?!" Kristin demanded, and now, she heard the new richness and sultriness to her voice.

"Just showed you who you are... Who you'd be with me..." Doug purred in his resonant baritone, taking a step back, and smirking down at her. He had thought he wanted lots of women, like James, but he was wrong. He just wanted Kristin... James didn't have a single woman, or all of them put together who could match Kristin.

Kristin shivered - thinking about the Leechman, what Dr. Shattuck said the Super-Zombs really were, and Jenny, tied down to a bed, a zomb clothed in the illusion of healthy flesh. Kristin howled, the horrible desire shoved down beneath her consuming rage. "I know who I am, and it's nothing like you!"

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Kristin pounced like a tawny mountain lion, ramming a powerful forearm against Doug's throat, her other hand hammering him in the solar plexus and working down to the crotch. Doug might have been ungodly tough, but the strength of Kristin's blows still knocked him down to the dirt, though seemingly not the worst for wear - Doug chuckled richly despite her rain of thundering fists and the elbow she ground against his neck.

"Kristin, Kristin, Kristin... So feisty, aggressive, I like it!" Doug-the-Super-Zomb affirmed fondly in that caressing baritone of his. "Jenny is very pretty and she likes to bite, but I can barely feel it. Now, you..." Doug flexed, craning neck and snapping his perfect, ugly teeth at her. "I can feel it... Like a lover's touch. Give me more!" And he reached out, one huge hand squeezing a steely buttock, the other sliding over the bulge of her gravid belly to grope a swollen, sensitive breast.

Kristin snarled, slapping down an open palm against the pale flesh of his bare chest, fingers splayed. Her stirred emotions still ran wild, the lust still burning through her veins, but now it was a sexual urge to break the motherfucker, make him bleed, make him cry, make him die. She flashed him a malicious smile, its transcendent beauty making Doug harden with an exquisite pain. She was the one, his true match, his true mate. "I want your lips around meeeee!"

"How 'bout I give you this, instead?!" Kristin roared, tensing her fingers and pulling strength from him and into her. "How does that feel, little Dougie?!"

Kristin felt the intoxicating rush of power flowing into her, somehow even more intense than before, though this time she barely seemed to grow any taller, and if anything, her brawny build became leaner, sleeker. Maybe because of whatever Doug had done to her, Instead of adding mass and bulk, her muscles simply became attractively better, denser, taut skin almost luminous.

Doug too didn't shrink as much as the Leechman had, disappointingly, but he still became a good deal slimmer, a bit shorter. And the terrified, distressed expression was very satisfying. She licked her lips in a mockingly suggestive manner, but there was nothing but fury and hate in her jade eyes. A hand reached under the waist of his jeans, bursting the button and zipper and wrapping around his over-sized manhood.

"Still want my lips around your cock, little Dougie? Do you?!"

Doug writhed in panic, his eyes wide and scared, his baritone far less compelling with the trembling quaver. "Kris-Kristin, what did you do to me? I feel so weak..."

"I made you weak. I stole those muscles you liked so much. Thanks, Dougie!" Kristin tittered, flexing her free arm and even she stared. If there was such a thing as a perfect, sexy and powerful, but undeniably feminine muscle, her bicep was it. Impossibly, she felt him harden even more in her hand. "You have no idea how amazing this feels, Dougie! But now, I'm gonna rip off you dick, then make you eat it, 'kay?"

With that, she squeezed and twisted with immense strength, Doug squealed in utter terror and imminent pain, then pulled... and nothing. She had been expecting a delicious tearing, gushing blood, and arousing whimpers, yet the cock remained resolutely in place. Even Doug seemed surprised he was still intact. An uneasy grin grew on his face.

"That was the best handjob, ever, Kristin!" He began to giggle, not a little hysteric and relieved. "You still can't hurt-can'thurt-can'thurt me!"

"Shut. Up!" Kristin yelled, backhanding him across the face with all her strength and his. There was a tremendous CRACK, Doug's head snapped to the side, a reddened imprint of her knuckles across his cheek, which quickly faded. No head exploding into goo under the incredible force, no broken jaw, no knocked-out teeth, nothing.


Kristin growled furiously. She stolen his strength, she knew she had, even more than the Leechman's - Dough didn't have the strength of a baby - but he still had all his toughness. He was fist proof. But maybe not axe-or-other-sharp-things-proof. She flowed back to her feet, pinning in place with a foot and only the minutest amount of effort, and bent over to pick up her distorted piece of steel. "I'm not done yet, Dougie."

She straightened the metal bar as easily as if it was a pipe-cleaner, then wrapped it once around Doug's neck tight, though it didn't seem to stop him breathing - actually, he didn't seem to be breathing at all. Hmm... bastard. With the extra length sticking out each side, she bound his wrists. She smiled grimly at her impromptu set of stocks. Doug struggled against his bonds in complete futility. The steel didn't give in the slightest resisting his puny strength.

Whistling, Kristin dragged him along behind her with a single finger hooked on the bar, Doug crying and blubbering. "Please, please, Kristin! Don't you see? This shows how perfect we are for each other, don't you see? You're the strongest woman in the world, and I'm the toughest, the toughest man."

"The only that is perfect is that it's going to take me a longer time to kill you, and you a longer time to die," Kristin hissed darkly, pulling Doug around and twisting the metal so his hands were held to the back of his neck, the two ends of the bar pointing back like a pair of blunt spikes. With a casual shove on his chest, she nailed him to one of the thick posts supporting the roof over the veranda. "Stay here."

Kristin stalked back into the farmhouse, searching for... Ah, let's start with this. From the dinner table, she picked up a big carving knife, a crust of blood dried black on along the edge. Before heading back out, she stopped by the bedroom. She frowned at the sight of the supermodelesue Jenny, but she knew her flesh was a lie - everything about Doug, everything he did and said, was a lie. She grabbed Jenny by her hair and yanked her off the bed, snapping her bonds like the thinnest of threads and dragged her, twisting and hissing.

Stuck as he was facing away from the farmhouse, the first thing Doug saw was Jenny flying pass him, to tumble and roll across the hard ground. He renewed his struggles, even though he knew it was useless. He had only wanted to be like James, to have something in this bad, dying world.

"Kristin, no! Please! Jenny hasn't done anything! I... I know I've been.. bad, I see that now. Just - Just do what you want, but let Jenny go. Please!"

Doug flinched, seeing the hard, remorseless look in Kristin's emerald eyes as she walked pass him to stand over Jenny, staring down at her for a long moment. Then she looked at Doug, a pitiless curve her to lips he had only wanted to kiss a moment ago. "She's a zomb, and zombs die."

She cocked back a foot, then kicked Jenny right under the chin. Though her skin still bloomed with health and beauty, her head was torn free of her body with a dry, ripping sound, then flew over the field and out of sight. The flesh on the inside was still putrid and dry, rank and dark with rot. "See? A zomb. Just like you, Dougie. You're a zomb too, a super-zomb, but still a zomb." She waved the large knife at him as she glided towards him like a predatory cat, entrancing an oh, so dangerous. "And you know what that means."

"Noooo...." He whispered, striving for a look of bravado - nothing else Kristin had done had really hurt, not much and not for long - and failing, his frightened eyes darting back to the tip of the blade.

"Yesss...." Kristin whispered back, the tip of the knife pricking him right under the bellybutton.

She paused for a second, then pushed, the blade sliding in up to the hilt with a wet sigh. Doug make a soft gasp as Kristin felt the trickle of blood as thick and dark as molasses dribble over her fingers.

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