The news reports that morning were far from good. There was another cult attack; the God of Mayhem would be here soon to rule the earth and to feast on our souls.

To say I was scared would be a terrible understatement.

So I did what I always do, I followed my routine. Right now, my schedule has me kayaking in the ocean. It calms me, the silence and the surf.

Sure, apparently Cthulu will come from the ocean, but to get my bit of peace and quiet, I will chance it. I have to.

The pull and draw of the oars, the sound of the rushing surf, immediately when I started rowing it stilled my beating heart. I felt I could breathe again, and the overwhelming anticipation that the world was experiencing right now was long behind me, on shore with my car.

Breathe, lift, pull. Breathe, lift, pull.

The stress took me a lot further out than I normally go, and I let it. It was exhilarating to feel detached from the constant blabber of our cursed nature.

That is, until I saw the tentacle.

It came from the surf. It was purple and engorged. I could see the broken capillaries and the veins. The suction cups were as big as my head and they pulsed shut and open, shut and open. The whole thing bulged, like it was stuffed too full. There was a clear weeping fluid coursing down the sides of it, like saliva.

I rowed backward, hoping to free myself from this monster before it came.

Everyone who warned us of the ocean were right, I should have heeded their warnings.

I was too late. Another tentacle came up behind me and another on the side.

They came at me, so fast I could barely see them. They seized my boat and it started sinking in the front while the back was lifted from the water.

I panicked and stood, over balancing and falling into the water, but I never hit.

One of the engorged limbs grabbed my leg with amazing dexterity and speed. I felt the ooze sliding into my shorts. I screamed and kicked, and it raised me further in the air.

A thinner tentacle landed on my shoulder. This one started feeling up my body until it found the skin where my shirt was riding up.

I tried to knock it back, but then the suction started and I screamed as it bit into me. I started hitting the thing, but nothing helped.

It raised me higher in the air and I yelled hoping someone would help me. I saw on shore, there were people standing at the end of the dock. They were talking and pointing. One man had the audacity to pull out his cell and start filming.

I looked back towards the water and I saw a giant beak breaking the surface. It had a dark glossy sheen and it opened and shut. There was a tongue inside, flicking this way and back like a giant worm had nested there.

I felt the tentacle holding my leg letting go. I screamed, and I knew this was my end.

I would be the first victim, and all I could do was hope that from my death and its lessons, there would be others that were saved.

As I felt the beak breaking into my stomach, I did something I have not done since I was a child, I prayed.

And then, sweet oblivion.


Semi-Circle of Doom

An Erotic Zombie Fantasy

The dust fell into her eyes as she cowered in the basement fortress. Today’s milling zombies were above average, and until they meandered away, she was safest here. Ruben was on an errand run, and she was aching for his touch to take away this overwhelming boredom.
That was something they never told you about the zombie apocalypse….. It’s very bland broken by spurts of heart stopping, thrilling action. The downtime kills as much as the action.
So, there she sat, occasionally watching through the security cameras outside for any sign of clearance or Ruben, she would take either.
Time passed, the afternoon, an entire day, another few days, and finally the coast was clear enough to get her happy ass out of the bomb shelter.
And then she saw him. Not exactly her beloved, per say, but definitely her right now. He kept peering over his shoulder and running towards the door. She met him there and gave him a hug. Instead of responding, he just pushed her inside and locked the doors.
This response was not his normal kiss and smile she received. She went back to the bed and pouted, waiting for some kind of explanation. Ruben stood at the door for a few more minutes, shoulders rising with every inhalation. She leaned back, and could almost hear a cry. Standing, she approached him.
“Babe, are you crying?” She couldn’t believe it. Here, her big bold man was in tears. Finally he turned and faced her.
Cringing at his face, she prepared herself.
He scrunched up the sleeve of his red hoodie and she cried out.
A clear set of teeth marks, in a semi-circle of doom.
She backed up, eyes wandering all over the room for something to protect herself.
He approached her gingerly, raising his hands above his hands.
“Lucy, I know it looks bad. I am sorry, hon. Please. You can take my gun, but please can we do what we discussed?”
When they first found each other, it was near the beginning of this massacre. During the downtime, they discussed everything, including what they would do if they were in this predicament now.
She smiled and grimaced all at once.
The deal was sex. The last thing either wanted was to feel was the writhing of another body beside them. The deal was orgasm before a quick, brutal, bloody end.
But was she really ready to deliver the promise?
She looked at him, chewing on her lip.
“Look, Lucy, I have everything set, you know the drill, and you know how to get through this. You know I didn’t plan this, so can you please just make me happy before I go?”
That decided her. He was a good man, a good provider, and with what he taught her she knew she could survive… He deserved this; she had to keep her word.
So in response she took off her shirt, then her bra.
“If you feel funny in any way you will stop right? You will not zombify me in the middle of all this, correct?”
He nodded and joined her in the disrobing process.
They didn’t pause for foreplay. She was ready from daydreaming all day, and when he saw her tits, he was always ready. They had sex. It was vigorous and rough, and very pleasing for all parties involved.
When it was all said and done, Lucy raised her pistol. She had always been fond of the purple Ruger. It was her present to herself before all this started and it would be hers until she was over. She made him stand and go outside. The fence was enough protection for now. She sat him in the far corner by the compost heap.
“Zombie or no?”
She placed the gun against his heart.
“It’s been nice Ruben”
“Always a pleasure, Lucy”
And she shot him and ran towards the entrance. It was a good time to start the boring stand again.