Chapter 355- Zombie Lord One Shot
Portals opened.
One after another. Each zombie that reached a ten-foot radius of him vanished into a violet-white oval and reappeared outside the mall. The sound of their bodies hitting the parking lot came through the broken windows in dull, distant thumps. He walked through the mall as if he were strolling through a park, the zombies disappearing around him like leaves in a wind.
The women followed.
The mother clung to the succubus. The daughter pressed against her mother. Soha walked with her hand on her belly, her dark eyes tracking the portals with quiet fascination.
He stopped at a food court.
The stalls were empty. The counters bare. The equipment smashed. He looked at the vacant registers, the overturned chairs, the tables covered in dust.
"Seems it is already taken," he said.
He turned toward the daughter.
"Are you hungry?"
She blinked. Her small face looked up from where she had been staring at the floor.
"Are we?" he repeated.
"No, I just..."
He snapped his fingers.
Energy Manipulation. The ability he had synthesized from Soha. The atoms in the air responded to his intent, the hydrogen and oxygen finding each other under his direction, bonding, condensing. A sphere of clear water materialized above his palm, hovering, perfect, the surface trembling with contained energy.
"Want to drink it?"
She nodded.
He held his hand forward. The water flowed from the sphere into a stream that poured into her cupped hands. She brought her palms to her mouth and drank. The water was cold, clean, tasting of nothing.
She finished.
Then she looked at his hand. The same hand that had created the water. His fingers were still wet. She reached up and took his index finger into her mouth.
She sucked.
Her small tongue swirled around the tip, her lips closing around the knuckle, her dark eyes looking up at him. She licked the length of his finger, her tongue flat and slow, her mouth warm and wet. She pulled it deeper, her cheeks hollowing, the suction soft and deliberate.
He watched her.
The way her small mouth worked around his finger. The way her tongue curled. The way her lips pressed. The way her dark eyes stayed on his face while she sucked. The way her small chest heaved with a breath that had nothing to do with thirst.
He sighed.
He pushed her down.
Her small body fell back against the food court counter, her back hitting the surface, her legs bending. He unzipped his pants. The sound of the zipper was loud in the empty mall.
His cock came out.
Half erect. Thick, dark, the veins visible, the head flushed but not fully swollen. It hung heavy between his thighs, eight inches of partial erection, the weight of it pulling the shaft downward.
He pressed it against her lips.
"You shouldn’t be seducing me, right?"
She opened her mouth.
His cock slid past her lips, over her tongue, into the warm wet cavity of her small mouth. The half-erect shaft throbbed against her tongue, hardening from the heat, the girth expanding as the blood flowed. She sucked. Her cheeks hollowing, her small hands gripping the base, her dark eyes looking up at him.
He pushed deeper.
The cock hit the back of her throat. She gagged, her eyes watering, her hands tightening on his shaft. He didn’t pull back. He held her head with one hand, his fingers in her dark hair, and pushed forward.
"MMPH~ HNNNGH~"
The shaft slid into her throat. The walls of her esophagus gripping him, the constriction tight and involuntary. Her eyes rolled, her small body convulsing, her hands beating against his thighs.
He looked around.
The food court. The empty stalls. The dark corridors. The amber glow.
"So while she’s enjoying it," he said, his voice carrying over the wet, muffled sounds of the daughter’s throat, "where is the camp?"
The succubus stepped forward. She pointed toward the far end of the mall, through the broken window of a department store.
"It is visible," she said. "You can see."
He turned his head.
Through the shattered glass, across the parking lot, past the overturned cars, in the distance. A huge amber glow. Not the faint pulse of the town’s ambient light. A concentrated, powerful light source, like a stadium floodlight, illuminating a massive structure on the horizon. A citadel. Walls. Towers. The light coming from battlements that bristled with movement.
"At night," the succubus said, "they use zombies as guards. Meat shields."
He looked at her.
"Meat shields against what?"
"There are ranks," the succubus said. Her golden eyes were serious, her tail still. "Common zombies. The ones you just dispatched. Mindless. Driven by hunger. Then there are zombie lords. Those who have evolved. Mostly they carry hammers, weapons. They retain enough intelligence to follow commands. They guard the perimeter while the higher ranks sleep."
She stopped.
Her golden eyes narrowed. She was looking through the broken window, past the parking lot, toward the dark street beyond. Something was moving. Two, three shapes, running. Not toward them. Away. Running from something.
The succubus’s voice dropped.
"It is coming."
The shapes vanished into the darkness. The silence that followed was thick. The only sound in the food court was the wet, rhythmic sucking of the daughter’s mouth on his cock, her muffled moans, the occasional gag.
"A zombie lord," the succubus whispered. "There. Croxius sir."
He looked.
Through the window. Across the lot. In the street between the gutted buildings. A shape. Huge. Eight feet tall, its body massive, the skin gray-green and armored in patches of bone that had grown through the flesh. It carried a hammer. Not a normal hammer. A weapon the size of a car door, the head a solid block of corroded iron, the handle a steel beam bent into shape.
It walked.
The footsteps were heavy. Each one cracked the asphalt. The hammer dragged behind it, leaving a groove. Its head was enormous, the jaw distended, the teeth tusk-like. Its eyes were not yellow. They were red. Deep, glowing, the color of old blood.
It turned its head.
Looking left. Looking right. Scanning. The red eyes sweeping the street, the parking lot, the mall.
It turned toward the shopping mall.
The silence in the food court was deafening. The only sound was the daughter’s mouth. The wet, hollow suction. The soft, muffled moans. The occasional click of her throat as she swallowed.
Cruxius looked down.
The daughter’s small face was pressed against his groin, her nose flat against his lower abs, his cock buried in her throat, her dark eyes rolled back. She was sucking with the mindless, devoted rhythm of a woman who had found her purpose.
He came.
The load was sudden. Thick. Heavy. Pulse after pulse of hot cum flooding her throat, going directly into her esophagus, bypassing her mouth entirely. She couldn’t taste it. She could only feel it. The warm, heavy flood filling her, the spasms of his cock pulsing against the walls of her throat.
He held her head.
His fingers tight in her dark hair, pulling her face against his groin, not letting her pull back. Her eyes rolled completely. Her hands beat against his thighs. She couldn’t breathe. The cum was filling her throat, blocking her airway, her body convulsing.
"MMPH~ HNNNGH~ GHHHK~"
He kept coming.
Pulse after pulse. The load seemed endless, his balls clenching, his cock throbbing in her throat. Her small belly distended slightly from the volume, the skin of her abdomen pushing outward.
The zombie lord’s red eyes swept the mall exterior.
It looked at the broken doors. At the dark interior. Its nostrils flared, the bone-plated nose twitching. It stood for ten seconds. Fifteen. The red eyes scanning.
The daughter’s throat worked around his shaft, her body swallowing involuntarily, the cum sliding down into her stomach in continuous, rhythmic gulps.
The zombie lord turned its head.
It looked away. Down the street. Toward the distant amber glow of the citadel. It took one step. Two. Then it continued walking, the hammer dragging behind it, the footsteps fading.
He exhaled.
The last pulse of cum emptied into the daughter’s throat. He held her for three more seconds. Then released her hair.
She pulled back.
His cock emerged from her mouth in a wet, dragging slide. The cum and saliva stringing between her lips and the head. She coughed. A violent, body-shaking cough that sent cum spraying from her nostrils and mouth onto the food court floor.
"Oh shit," he said.
The zombie lord came back.
It had heard the cough. The red eyes snapped toward the mall. The enormous body turned, the bone-plated shoulders rotating, the hammer lifting from the ground. It charged.
The sound was like a building collapsing. Each footstep cracking the asphalt, the hammer swinging up above its head, the iron head catching the faint light. It hit the mall doors at full speed, the metal screaming, the frame buckling. It burst through, the hammer already descending.
The wail that came from its throat was not human. Not animal. A sound like a dragon screaming through a throat full of broken glass, the pitch high enough to crack the remaining windows.
Cruxius snapped his fingers.
"Shut up."
The energy blast hit the zombie lord in the chest. A concentrated lance of pure kinetic force, the stored energy from every footstep the creature had taken, every swing of the hammer, returned at triple magnitude. The impact was silent and absolute.
The zombie lord flew backward.