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This here is a story I just randomly started. Chock full of sex and violence, which I find fits into the forum nicely, especially the sex bit. Anyway hope you all enjoy
A hiss sounded from behind her and she spun, raising a pistol. One of the undead was running through the doorway to the stairwell that led down through the building she was perched upon.
Her finger calmly settled on the pistol’s trigger, the cool metal soothing against the pad of her finger. She gently squeezed until the weapon barked, the slide slamming back and ejecting the spent round, steam coiling from the hot brass. The muzzle flash was bright in the darkness of the night, but the round flew true, hitting the ghoul in the forehead and punching a hole neatly in its skull. The hollow point round flattened and tore through the creature’s brain before smashing open the back of its head sending a spray of gore across the wall behind it.
The woman smiled, revealing the sharper than normal canines in her mouth. Some might assume vampirism, but that was not the case with her, proven by the pointed wolf like ears poking out through the mane of wild raven black hair that tumbled about her shoulders, and a wolf’s tail that hung down in the green and red kilt she wore. Her eyes of misty hazel were enhanced by the dark eyeliner she wore, her skin was pale, her features sharp and predatory.
Besides the kilt she wore black Magnum® boots, the laces tucked back into the boot just in front of the tongue. She wore a black bustier, tied up the front in crimson lacing. The leather of the garment was laced in the same shade of crimson, and the front was cut low enough to offer a generous amount of cleavage. A pair of fingerless gloves was pulled onto her hands. A pistol holster was on each hip, fitted for her 1911 Colts, while the bustier had a holster for a 12-gauge Remington 870 pump action shotgun, and the sheath for a bastard sword sewn into the leather on the back.
She was the Sinfulwolf, known to many as simply, Sin.
She was a warrior, not a mere survivor in this world claimed by the restless dead. A huntress under the moonlight, a beacon of hope for those still scrounging for scraps of life amidst the rubble of a ruined city.
Sin sat on the ledge of the roof, her feet dangling over the side, while she slipped the magazine out of the pistol she fired. She looked in at the bullets stacked in clip, and pulled a box of bullets from one of the pouches hanging off the belt wrapped around her waist. A second pouch held shells for the shotgun, a third held a whetstone for the sword, some coins, a zippo lighter and a pack of DuMaurier cigarettes.
She opened the box of .45 pistol ammunition and pulled a single round out. She held it up pinched between the short claws on her thumb and forefinger, looking at the brass and the bullet itself. She pushed the round in the magazine before slapping it back into the pistol and holstering the firearm.
Sin closed the box and put it back into its pouch before standing and staring up into the sky and at the moon that glared down at the city. It was so very beautiful, and a few minutes Sin simply looked at it, enjoying the last full moon she would see for a month.
A scream pierced the stillness of the night. Something must have found one of the packets of survivors, or perhaps a scavenging party. Sin jumped off the ledge and landed on the fire escape with a loud crash. She continued to leap down, landing on each piece of the fire escape to ensure her descent would not make her a broken corpse on the sidewalk below.
When her feet finally hit the street she took off at a run, ignoring the slight pain that had shot up her shins on impact. She had both her pistols out, and leapt through an already broken window into a decaying building from where she could hear whimpering.
It had once been a restaurant, there was old blood smeared across the floor, the tables and chairs were broken and scattered about. Some of the booths along the walls had torn and dismembered corpses perched on the short benches of cracked and broken leather. Many of them were in the late stages of decay. The cash register sitting on the dusty counter near the entrance had been smashed open and emptied ages ago. Not that it mattered, dollar bills had lost all their value when the dead had risen and torn down civilization.
Near the back was a fresh corpse. The man’s throat had been pierced by something, leaving a gaping hole that had ruined his jugular vein and wind pipe. Scarlet blood had sprayed across the wall before him and dribbled down his dirt stained golf shirt.
In one of the booths was one of the undead monstrosities. Not a zombie, a raider, some strange mutation when someone’s DNA reacted strangely to the virus. The creature was humanoid, but it walked on all fours, its legs had reversed knees, and its hands were massive with three fingers and a thumb that all ended in a large claw strong enough to pierce concrete so that the monster could scale buildings. Its eyes were sunken deep into its skull which was mostly exposed. Its nose was nothing but two holes in its face, and its ears were the same.
Its most tell tale feature however was the long and pointed tongue that snapped about like a living whip. The point was callused skin and pointed enough to stab through a man’s flesh. The raider, like all its kind, wore no clothes revealing the ripped white skin and the muscles beneath, as well as its erect penis which was currently buried deep inside a young blonde woman who was whimpering as the creature raped her.
Sin reacted quickly, raising both pistols and firing a few shots. The hollow points utterly destroyed the creature’s skull, splattering brain matter and chips of bone across the walls.
Sin threw the body off the girl and looked down at her.
The girl’s body shook with her sobbing, the shreds of her pants and underwear still clinging to her skin. Her shirt was left intact, hiding the rest of her voluptuous form. Sin holstered one pistol and set a hand gently on the girl’s shoulder, noticing as she did so the white cum leaking from her pussy. Sin had gotten here just in time to save her life, if not her pride… or sanity.
“Come on, we need to get you somewhere safe,” Sin said quietly, her eyes darting about the restaurant. There could always be another raider nearby, or perhaps an advancing horde of zombies, or something worse.
“Where? There is no where safe,” the blonde cried out hysterically.
“Somewhere safer. The safest place in this city. You have to trust me,” Sin whispered softly, gently stroking the girl’s hair.
Finally the girl looked up, tears carving paths through the dirt on her face. She looked pleadingly up at the wolf girl.
“You promise to protect me,” she whispered, her eyes darting towards the dead man, whose fingers began to twitch.
“I promise,” Sin said, firing a bullet into the soon to be zombie’s forehead.
KNEE DEEP IN THE DEAD
Chapter 1: Sin
A wolf howled in the distance, and she responded with one of her own, calling to the wild outside the ruins of the city. She didn’t care that it may draw attention to her, in fact she hoped it would. She wanted some blood, her lust for it gnawing at her mind, her mouth watering in anticipation for combat. Chapter 1: Sin
A hiss sounded from behind her and she spun, raising a pistol. One of the undead was running through the doorway to the stairwell that led down through the building she was perched upon.
Her finger calmly settled on the pistol’s trigger, the cool metal soothing against the pad of her finger. She gently squeezed until the weapon barked, the slide slamming back and ejecting the spent round, steam coiling from the hot brass. The muzzle flash was bright in the darkness of the night, but the round flew true, hitting the ghoul in the forehead and punching a hole neatly in its skull. The hollow point round flattened and tore through the creature’s brain before smashing open the back of its head sending a spray of gore across the wall behind it.
The woman smiled, revealing the sharper than normal canines in her mouth. Some might assume vampirism, but that was not the case with her, proven by the pointed wolf like ears poking out through the mane of wild raven black hair that tumbled about her shoulders, and a wolf’s tail that hung down in the green and red kilt she wore. Her eyes of misty hazel were enhanced by the dark eyeliner she wore, her skin was pale, her features sharp and predatory.
Besides the kilt she wore black Magnum® boots, the laces tucked back into the boot just in front of the tongue. She wore a black bustier, tied up the front in crimson lacing. The leather of the garment was laced in the same shade of crimson, and the front was cut low enough to offer a generous amount of cleavage. A pair of fingerless gloves was pulled onto her hands. A pistol holster was on each hip, fitted for her 1911 Colts, while the bustier had a holster for a 12-gauge Remington 870 pump action shotgun, and the sheath for a bastard sword sewn into the leather on the back.
She was the Sinfulwolf, known to many as simply, Sin.
She was a warrior, not a mere survivor in this world claimed by the restless dead. A huntress under the moonlight, a beacon of hope for those still scrounging for scraps of life amidst the rubble of a ruined city.
Sin sat on the ledge of the roof, her feet dangling over the side, while she slipped the magazine out of the pistol she fired. She looked in at the bullets stacked in clip, and pulled a box of bullets from one of the pouches hanging off the belt wrapped around her waist. A second pouch held shells for the shotgun, a third held a whetstone for the sword, some coins, a zippo lighter and a pack of DuMaurier cigarettes.
She opened the box of .45 pistol ammunition and pulled a single round out. She held it up pinched between the short claws on her thumb and forefinger, looking at the brass and the bullet itself. She pushed the round in the magazine before slapping it back into the pistol and holstering the firearm.
Sin closed the box and put it back into its pouch before standing and staring up into the sky and at the moon that glared down at the city. It was so very beautiful, and a few minutes Sin simply looked at it, enjoying the last full moon she would see for a month.
A scream pierced the stillness of the night. Something must have found one of the packets of survivors, or perhaps a scavenging party. Sin jumped off the ledge and landed on the fire escape with a loud crash. She continued to leap down, landing on each piece of the fire escape to ensure her descent would not make her a broken corpse on the sidewalk below.
When her feet finally hit the street she took off at a run, ignoring the slight pain that had shot up her shins on impact. She had both her pistols out, and leapt through an already broken window into a decaying building from where she could hear whimpering.
It had once been a restaurant, there was old blood smeared across the floor, the tables and chairs were broken and scattered about. Some of the booths along the walls had torn and dismembered corpses perched on the short benches of cracked and broken leather. Many of them were in the late stages of decay. The cash register sitting on the dusty counter near the entrance had been smashed open and emptied ages ago. Not that it mattered, dollar bills had lost all their value when the dead had risen and torn down civilization.
Near the back was a fresh corpse. The man’s throat had been pierced by something, leaving a gaping hole that had ruined his jugular vein and wind pipe. Scarlet blood had sprayed across the wall before him and dribbled down his dirt stained golf shirt.
In one of the booths was one of the undead monstrosities. Not a zombie, a raider, some strange mutation when someone’s DNA reacted strangely to the virus. The creature was humanoid, but it walked on all fours, its legs had reversed knees, and its hands were massive with three fingers and a thumb that all ended in a large claw strong enough to pierce concrete so that the monster could scale buildings. Its eyes were sunken deep into its skull which was mostly exposed. Its nose was nothing but two holes in its face, and its ears were the same.
Its most tell tale feature however was the long and pointed tongue that snapped about like a living whip. The point was callused skin and pointed enough to stab through a man’s flesh. The raider, like all its kind, wore no clothes revealing the ripped white skin and the muscles beneath, as well as its erect penis which was currently buried deep inside a young blonde woman who was whimpering as the creature raped her.
Sin reacted quickly, raising both pistols and firing a few shots. The hollow points utterly destroyed the creature’s skull, splattering brain matter and chips of bone across the walls.
Sin threw the body off the girl and looked down at her.
The girl’s body shook with her sobbing, the shreds of her pants and underwear still clinging to her skin. Her shirt was left intact, hiding the rest of her voluptuous form. Sin holstered one pistol and set a hand gently on the girl’s shoulder, noticing as she did so the white cum leaking from her pussy. Sin had gotten here just in time to save her life, if not her pride… or sanity.
“Come on, we need to get you somewhere safe,” Sin said quietly, her eyes darting about the restaurant. There could always be another raider nearby, or perhaps an advancing horde of zombies, or something worse.
“Where? There is no where safe,” the blonde cried out hysterically.
“Somewhere safer. The safest place in this city. You have to trust me,” Sin whispered softly, gently stroking the girl’s hair.
Finally the girl looked up, tears carving paths through the dirt on her face. She looked pleadingly up at the wolf girl.
“You promise to protect me,” she whispered, her eyes darting towards the dead man, whose fingers began to twitch.
“I promise,” Sin said, firing a bullet into the soon to be zombie’s forehead.