We've got some fun stuff planned for you the last half of the year in Story Orgy land (ville? topia?). We're finishing up a fun anthology filled with never before seen stories, all written around the concept of bad boyfriends (and who amongst us hasn't had one or two of those in their past, am I right?). And we're also planning to release an anthology of Christmas themed flash fiction pieces later this year, so be sure you're nice while you're being naughty so you aren't left off Santa's list. ;-)
Now, without further ado, enjoy something creepy crawly and slightly sexy. You can thank Havan and Lee for the nightmares.
Missing Madeline
by Hank Edwards
(c) 2013
Scott stood with his back against the brick wall. He listened to the shuffle of feet just outside the alley
and watched the long shadows stagger past. The sounds had been the worst part of the zombie apocalypse at first, but not anymore. Scott had come to realize the smell was the worst part. He could deal with the moaning and shuffling, the click and scrape of fingernails that kept on growing as every other part rotted away. But the smell was definitely worse.
He'd thought coming back to his hometown just outside Toledo had been a good idea. But his parents' house had been in ruins. He'd taken hope that they had survived long enough to flee by the evidence of packed suitcases. Scott had scavenged a few mementos—some photos and keepsakes—and shown them to Troy in the quiet hours they spent together. Talking about the past, the good times with family, seemed to calm Troy down. He'd been a mess when Scott had found him on campus, and though they'd only been seeing other a couple of weeks, Scott had felt protective of the man.
And the fact that Troy was incredibly handsome and well-hung didn't hurt, either. If you're going to live through a zombie apocalypse, you might as well be getting some, and getting it good.
The herd of undead ambled off along the street and Scott let out a quiet breath. He gave the zombies another five minutes before he reached down and picked up the backpack stuffed with supplies. Things were getting more scarce, they'd have to consider moving soon. Maybe find a car—plenty to choose from—and head down south for the winter.
He hustled, ducked, and darted back to the luxury hotel where they had established their latest home. A clot of zombies staggered around the middle of an intersection, and Scott crept around them, distracting himself with thoughts of Troy. He thought about touching the man, sucking him, feeling Troy's hard length push inside him, and the way it left Scott stretched wide and filled with cum.
Second best thing about a zombie uprising: nobody used condoms.
Using the old throw-a-rock trick, Scott sent the zombies staggering off away from the hotel's back entrance then slipped inside the dark, cool back hallway.
Up in the penthouse, the smell of death was strong, and Scott checked to see if Troy had opened windows, but they were sealed shut. Scott figured the smell had gathered in his clothes and up his nose.
"Troy?" Scott called. "You here?"
Troy walked quickly out of the hall leading to the two bedrooms, his smile wide and eyes flashing with excitement. "Hi honey!"
Scott frowned. Troy hadn't been handling his family's gruesome fate well, but this demeanor was a new level of crazy.
"Hi. You okay?" Scott asked, a little nervous to hear Troy's reply.
"Uh huh, I'm great. I have a surprise for you."
A thump sounded from the end of the hall.
"What was that?" Scott asked, hand dropping to the handle of the gun at his waist.
"That's your surprise. Come see."
Scott followed Troy down the hall, his gaze dropping of its own will to the man's fine, rounded ass. He admitted to himself he was a little bummed to not find Troy wearing only an apron and cooking dinner like the last time he had come back from a run. But there was time, right? All the time in the world.
Troy stopped at the door to the second bedroom, the one where they stored clothes and the overflow of canned goods. He turned and smiled at Scott. "You know I've been missing my family."
A nervous flutter went through Scott's stomach. "Yeah."
"It really tore me up," Troy said, and his voice cracked as tears gathered in his eyes.
"Oh, honey." Scott started to step forward but Troy held up a hand.
"No, it's okay. I've come to terms with it."
Scott kind of doubted that, but he held his tongue.
"So when you've gone out on supply runs, I've been going out on investigative runs."
"Investigative runs?"
Troy nodded and the bright smile returned. "Uh huh. I've been tracking down someone special." He reached for the doorknob.
Scott wanted to make Troy stop. He wanted him to not open that door, to never open that door, and he wanted him to not be as crazy as he feared he already was. But Troy had already grabbed the doorknob and turned it.
The smell rushed out at him and Scott gagged and took a step back, covering his nose and mouth as his eyes watered. He squinted against the stench and then widened his eyes as he saw what Troy had done.
Scott's mother, Madeline, stood in the middle of their spare room. She had been chained by the ankle to the foot of the four poster bed and it kept her from reaching them as she lurched forward. Her eyes—once so blue—were clouded and held no spark of recognition. Her teeth were stained and a deep gash marred the right side of her face.
Her right arm had been torn off, leaving the sleeve of her lightweight sweater—a sweater Scott had given her for her birthday two years ago—dangling at her side.
"I invited your Mom for dinner!" Troy said, and Scott was terrified by what he now realized was a gleam of psychosis in the man's eyes.
"She seems real nice," Troy said, looking back at Madeline who still tried to get to them, bite them, eat them. He winked at her and then turned to whisper to Scott, "I think she likes me."
~~ END ~~
Well, Story Orgy friends and fans, I hope you enjoyed my little undead treat on this last Monday of July. Come back next week when another Story Orgy member will leave you a little treat. I hope you have a great work week and a fantastic start to the month of August. I'll be back in another six weeks with some more tantalizing goodies. Until then, be safe and be kind to each other.
Oh no! Lesson: never fall in love during the zombie apocalypse. Great story, Hank! Love your crazy little twists. :)
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