Resident Evil: A Dead Breed

A/N: To anyone who sees any similarities between my story and OmegaXII’s “Resident Evil EX: Zero”, well, there are plenty. This isn’t my attempt to rip off of someone else’s idea; rather, while reading his work a couple months ago, I felt inspired to carry his story over to other characters, namely, Jill (love Rebecca, but come on—it’s Jill Fucking Valentine). Basically, I’m using the same premise of OmegaXIII’s story, but coming up with my own. If he finds any problem with this, I’ll take my work down, but until then, hey, free advertisement! Check out “Resident Evil EX: Zero” if you haven’t already; it’s a great piece of adult fiction for anyone who loves to mix horror and porn.



Now then, shall we?



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Resident Evil: A Dead Breed



Chapter 2 – First Encounter



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“What is this place?”



Barry’s words echoed lifelessly in the main hall, which towered ominously overhead. Being the much older of the bunch, he was hunched over with his hands on his knees, trying to regain his composure. Jill’s breathing was ragged, sweat dripping from her brow, and Wesker, by comparison, was already looking around the hall through his aviators.



“Not your ordinary house, that’s for sure.” Wesker remained turned away from the other two, seeming to take a mental picture of his surroundings. The place was well-lit, but it seemed as though it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Paint chipped away from walls, and the otherwise classic mystique turned into something more... decayed.



Jill suddenly had a realization as she whipped her head around her anxiously. “Hey Wesker... Where’s Chris?” Without waiting for a reply, she made her way back to the door they’d just locked down.



“Jill, no,” Wesker growled. At the sound of Jill’s footsteps slowing to a stop, his tone became calm once more. “You don’t want to go out there.”



“But we have to find—”



Jill’s pleading was cut off by a gunshot in the distance, somewhere in the west wing. The whole team turned their attention to the doors there. Barry broke the silence.



“What was that?”



“Chris?”



“No...” Jill felt like her lungs were caving in as she moaned the word. She was overshadowed by the sound of thunder overhead; the storm had finally started. She didn’t have time to wail of her compatriot, though, as her captain took charge.



“Jill, go investigate.”



“I’m going with her,” Barry added in a demanding voice, one she wasn’t used to hearing when addressing Captain Wesker. The full-sized man turned to their superior, almost looking like he was sizing him up. Jill simply watched from the sidelines. “Chris and I go back a long way.”



Wesker stared him down through his black glasses, his expression unseen and mysterious. In the end, however, he obliged. “Alright. You two go; I’ll secure this area.” The two nodded to the captain, and as they turned away, heard over their shoulders, “Stay sharp!”



Jill strode over to the door, adrenaline running through her veins, mind clear and running through all the years of training stored in there. This was her environment; no rabid dogs, or eaten people. They had to find Chris, and Rebecca, and Kenneth, Enrico, and everyone else on Bravo Team. They were going to succeed, for their sake.



She propped herself up against the wall beside the door, readying her gloved hand on the knob as she locked eyes with Barry, who nodded silently in return. Mentally, she counted down. ‘Three... two...’ With a shove, she flung the door open, sending Barry charging through, gun held in a killing stance as his boots stomped against the floor. Jill followed, covering him from behind, but what she saw wasn’t Chris or anything that could be endangering him:



“A dining room,” Barry stated the obvious. He lowered his weapon, as did Jill, and began to gander at the area. Jill calmed her nerves with a couple deep breaths, then followed. In the long, narrow room, the only sound she heard was that of a steady clock, ticking and tocking, echoing through the empty hall. The dining table was a luxurious oak, stretching at least 20 yards in length. On it were scattered empty dishes and dining utensils, as if it had been set up and then left. On the far end, past the creepy paintings that seemed to fit perfectly into a horror movie, was a fire, seemingly fresh. That’s where Barry was when he knelt down out of her view.



“I think you’d better take a look at this.” Jill jogged around the edge of the table as she came to him.



“What is it?”



Barry paused for a moment, rubbing a dab of the stuff onto his fingertip to get a smell. “Blood,” he said gravely. He left the thought there, standing upright as he wiped the drop onto the side of his pants and turned toward his partner. “Jill, see you can find any other clues. I’ll be examining this.” He looked down at the pool of dark crimson, his brow scrunching as he pondered the possibilities. “Let’s just hope it’s not Chris’s.” His words were hardly even a whisper. He obviously didn’t want it to be true, but it almost sounded as if he was putting himself at fault if it were. Jill wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but now wasn’t the time or place. They still hadn’t found the source of that gunshot. Quickly, she turned toward the only other exit from the room, a normal-sized, aging wooden door. Slowly, silently, she turned the cold, metal knob and eased her way through.



As Jill shut the door behind her, it creaked in fruitless resistance. But that wasn’t the only creak she heard. At least, she didn’t think so. Was there something else there? Or was she just losing her nerve?



Jill froze in place when she heard what sounded like an animal-like groan. Her senses suddenly went haywire, and in an instant, years’ worth of training was wiped from her consciousness. She was rapidly becoming less of a S.T.A.R.S. member and more of a scared girl with a gun. Another moan. Another icy cold chill crawling up her spine.



‘Get it together Jill…’ Barry was just behind her. All it would take is opening the door again and requesting assistance. That was all it would take. Two guns would be better than one, right? Better to take out—wait. What the hell were they taking out in the first place?



‘No. I can do this.’ Jill grabbed a breath as she stared a hole through the door, weighing the pros and cons of moving forward. How could Barry ever take her seriously if she didn’t even make it two steps away from the door before tucking her tail between her legs and running? She had no idea what made that sound; it could be Chris, and he could be hurt. Her fingers twitched along the handle of the gun, trying to get a better grip with the nervous sweat making things increasingly difficult.



One step forward. The board beneath Jill’s foot creaked, making her stop on a dime as her ears perked, listening for any sign of movement. Whatever was around the corner, it didn’t seem to have noticed her. Or it wasn’t able to move. “Chris…?” Her voice came out as more of a whimper than a legitimate call. The dim lighting didn’t help as she tried to see around the corner, pistol held high, every sense on full alert.



The sound of some sort of... gushing came from around the corner, like someone biting into a tomato. She swallowed. Her throat was so dry it felt like she was swallowing sand. “Ch-Chris?” Still no answer. No movement. It couldn’t be one of those dogs—unless Captain Wesker’s spray had worked? Jill came up to the edge of the wall, knowing full well that whatever was making that sound would be just around it. She closed her eyes, breathing in, out, then opened them again. Three, two...



In an instant, she was around the corner, gun cocked and pointing directly at... “Uhn...!” Jill tried to speak, but her words had left her. Her arms, stiff and strong just a moment ago, fell limp as she watched Kenneth’s throat being ripped out by the teeth of a monster. It wasn’t a dog this time, though.



The groan repeated amidst loud, wet chomps of flesh as the man-like figure slowly turned its head, now aware of Jill’s presence. She nearly fell backward as she caught the figure’s dead eyes, bleached a sick white as the fresh, bloody mess in its mouth began to fall out of the side of its decaying face. Jill wanted to hurl, she wanted to shoot and run and scream and hurl all at the same time. And yet, she did none of those.



The figure slowly, gingerly arose, seemingly in no rush to get its new prey. Jill’s mind raced with battle tactics, breath stabilizing tricks, Chris, Barry, Captain Wesker… But her body responded to none of it. She stood tall, like a statue, frozen in time for all to see the horror just before death. She had every chance to fight in every way, and yet, she couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.



The monster, now on its feet, seemed to nearly fall backward as it tried to get its balance. Its clothes, civilian, were just as tattered as its body was; it seemed to be decaying, rotting away piece by piece. It took a step forward, and Jill’s body took a step back. Her mind was already in the other room, cowering behind Barry and yelling for him to shoot, but her body couldn’t keep up. It fell backward, losing its grip on her gun as she hit the ground with a thud and a grunt. “Oof!” The monster seemed unfazed, not choosing to quicken or slow or change its pace at all; it simply closed the gap, its arms outstretched like the zombies of old black and white horror films, its ripped open jaw hanging like a sick deformity as the thing moaned with what was left of its vocal cords.



“Oh, God, oh God oh God... Barry…” Despite her wanting to yell at the top of her lungs more than any other thing in the world, her words came out in a whisper. She’d lost her voice. Jill was now frightened to the point that all she could do was close her eyes, cower, and pray. She had no idea where her gun fell, how far it was, or, at this point, if she even still knew how to fire it. The thing groaned again; it was so close now. She was next. She was going to be on the next news report, eaten alive, covered in blood, disgusting and mutilated...



She yelped as she felt a cold, strong hand bury itself into her hair, knocking her beret clean off her head. She hissed in pain as the monster tried to lift her up by her hair, but she followed the hand’s command, rising to her knees with her eyes still forced shut. She didn’t want to see how it would all end; she didn’t want to face her fear. Emotionally, she was done. She hadn’t even put up a fight. It was a pathetic way to go.



A second passed. Then another. It groaned, but still nothing. Jill didn’t feel a second hand, or teeth, or anything. She began to wonder what it was doing, what it was planning—if it were even capable of such a human concept—and, somewhat sadistically, she began to wonder what the hell was taking it so long. She opened one eye, still being held up by her hair in too uncomfortable a fashion to keep from clenching one side of her face.



What she saw was... horrifying? The monster wasn’t readying for a kill, not that she could see. It wasn’t scratching or biting or beating her with its free hand. It was pushing down its pants.



‘…the hell…?’ Jill’s eyes opened wide as she took the sight in. The beast was fumbling unceremoniously with its waistband, like it no longer understood the concept of clothing. It wanted something out from under there, and couldn’t figure out how to get from point A to B. In any other situation, it’d be comical, but Jill was simply trying to snap herself out of whatever fucked up dream she’d wound up in.



The thing groaned, sounding irritated as its hand ripped at the waistband, making the pants fall loosely to its ankles while a stained pair of formerly white underwear still clung to its decaying frame. Jill wanted to vomit all over again; it was fucking hard. Somehow, with a body seething blood like a leper, it managed to be packing. What was it doing? How did this thing suddenly go from kill mode to mating mode? Was it because she was female? No, that couldn’t be it. How could it even tell what she was with those dead eyes? She couldn’t explain the concept of the living dead, but there was no way it could see with—



Wait. The spray. Had that...?



Jill had lost herself in thought somehow. Now she was brought back to reality by a half nude zombie, erect and practically poking her in the eye with it. Roughly seven inches in length, the monster’s cock was surprisingly well preserved compared to the rest of its body; no open wounds, no blood of any kind. Its skin was still a sickly pale, almost translucent in color with a roadmap of veins beneath, but the thing sure seemed, as sick as the thought was, usable.



The thing groaned, pushing its hips forward, like a dog nudging you for attention. Jill turned her head, the rod poking her hard in the cheek. She felt the entirety of her skin crawl at the feeling of the cold skin on hers, leaving a string of precum as it backed away. The tiny strand broke after a moment, falling along Jill’s skin, layering her goosebumps as she shuddered in response. The monster poked again as Jill clenched her eyes shut, trying to wake up. There was no way this was happening. No fucking way.



The monster’s vocal cords strained to what seemed to be its loudest groan yet, and then it yanked on Jill’s hair, eliciting another helpless yelp as she stood upright from her knees. The undead phallus was now pressed against her sealed lips, trying to barge its way inside with force. Jill refused, somehow more able to control her actions against the threat of oral sex than that of death. But the thing would have none of that; somehow, in its undead, decomposing state, its primal instinct to mate remained strong. Like an alpha male, he’d killed the other male; now he wanted his prize.



Jill fought hard to keep her mouth shut against the invader, but the feeling of half a head’s worth of hair being ripped out by the root was making it all the harder. Her mind wanted to scream, cry, beg—all of which took the use of her mouth. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t. This was a fate worse than death. Far, far worse...



Finally, her willpower caved, and as her lips parted to shout in agony, they were just as soon plugged by the monster’s cold, grimy penis. Her scream was muffled by the intruding meat, unable to push it out and unwilling to bite down; who knew what this thing would do if she tried to hurt it in this position? Her eyes opened as she pleaded with them to the monster, seeing its own white eyes gleam in the dim glow of the window. Whatever humanity the monster had had before, it was all gone. Jill knew this when, clenching onto her hair, it pumped its rod inside her mouth, pressing against her throat in the first thrust. She gagged, and tears began to form at the corners of her eyes, but she was still alive. Dammit all, she was alive.



It tasted awful—whether that was fully true or partially because of Jill’s freaked out mindset, she hadn’t a clue, but it was definitely the most disgusting thing she remembered ever tasting. She’d given head before, but those were men—living, breathing, human men. And she’d done it out of affection, out of lust; never out of fear. Jill’s body seemed to finally be getting the memo as her hands went up the monster’s legs, beating one thigh with a clenched fist while the other hand began to claw at the dead skin. The zombie moaned its moan, seemingly oblivious to her efforts while its rickety hips, now in full motion, continued to assail its victim’s hot, wet mouth.



Jill’s protest was once again muffled by the invading cock, and after a few more thrusts her voice box simply stopped trying. Her tongue felt the shaft press against it, and she was forced to taste the monster in full with every pounding plunge against her throat. Wet, sloppy, gagging sounds filled the room as she tried to keep calm while being facefucked by a zombie. She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind, set herself in a different place. But it was all to no avail. The zombie pressed on, never slowing down, never changing pace at all. It simply kept on going, and Jill simply kept on taking it.



‘What can I do…?’ Jill tried her best to remain rational. How could she get out of this? Her gun... Her gun! She kept her eyes open again, looking to her right to try and find the weapon she’d discarded. Of course, it was out of reach, but she could see it lightly reflecting the soft light in the room. As sick as it was, she had to... to get this thing off, and go for the weapon. When it happened, she couldn’t freeze, she couldn’t mess up. She needed to survive, to get out of here. There was no way in hell she was going to die giving head to a zombie.



As her throat opened up, the monster fucked it deeper, forcing Jill to suppress her gag reflex the best she could, over and over and over again. The thing obviously couldn’t register that it was a mouth it was mating, but maybe that was a good thing. Jill’s eyes watered as the gagging sounds continued to fill the lifeless room, mixing with undead groans and whimpers from the back of her throat in between ravaging thrusts. Her lips pursed against the dead phallus, now trying to suck it dry and hurry the process up. It was disgusting to even think, but she had to make this thing cum, and the sooner the better or else she was bound to pass out.



The monster suddenly shifted gears, however; for a moment, it slowed down, only to ram itself as deep into Jill’s hot orifice as it could go. The female commando felt the unwelcome sensation of balls hitting her chin, and so long as the monster kept itself lodged there, she couldn’t breathe. It pulled back again for a welcome relief, only to drive its cock inside again. These thrusts were less frequent, but more powerful; maybe it was close to climax?



Jill Valentine couldn’t do anything more than simply sit on her knees, taking the thing’s cock into her mouth again and again. She felt so... used, so dirty. She clenched her eyes shut as she sucked it off, trying her best to milk the cock and finish it off. The sick sensation of precum leaking onto her tongue smoothed the process, but as more and more seeped out, the gagging became worse, the sounds louder, the tears larger in number. The thing moaned, longer than before, and suddenly picked its pace up again. Testicles beat against the young woman’s chin with a loud slap! slap! slap! She gagged, choking on the meat as she tried to scream, tried to get the horror to stop...



That was when she felt the unwelcome sensation of the dam breaking. The zombie groaned in an almost holler, and suddenly Jill felt a hot, gooey rush of liquid draining into the back of her throat. She had to force herself not to puke it back up—she dare not try and think of the medical ramifications of swallowing this stuff—as she swallowed it down, taking burst after burst of undead seed. She shed tears, whether out of physical reflex to the gagging or out of disgust and fear, it didn’t really matter. She took it all in, surge after surge of juicy semen hitting her throat until, soon, she couldn’t swallow fast enough. As the monster continued its pace, Jill could feel drops of hot cum escaping her lips, dripping nastily down her chin as she continued to swallow all she could, until, miraculously, the thing ran out. A few more moments, and its hips stopped rocking as well.



Feeling her job was complete, Jill whipped her head back, the zombie dick falling out of her hole with a loud, wet plop. A string of saliva tied her lips with the thing’s now wet, coated dick, and it glistened in the dim lighting as Jill breathed like a smoker attempting a marathon. Stray bangs covering her eyes and tears following gravity’s path down her cheeks, Jill felt so violated that, for the moment, she completely forgot about the gun beside her. She gasped for air, trying to steady herself as her thoughts came back to her: ‘The… gun! My gun!’



Jill knew this was her opportunity. She had to get her gun and put a bullet in this thing’s head. Now. Still in the grasp of the zombie’s surprisingly strong grip, Jill tried to beat its arm with her fist, or at least pull the thing with her toward the weapon. It was much stronger than she’d anticipated; it was dead, or dying, after all, but it seemed to have the power of a man in the prime of his youth. The piece of meat it’d just finished using was still throbbing, and its cold, dead eyes were still looking right at the poor female below it.



“Uhn... Let... me... go!” Jill roared the best she could, trying to tear away from the monster’s grip without losing half her scalp at the same time. As she tried to pull away, though, the zombie surprisingly let her go. She didn’t have time to ponder its intentions as she sprawled out for the gun, which had bounced a few yards away. It was just out of reach, but she crawled, flailing, nearly touching it with her fingertips...



Before she could fully realize it, the thing had pounced on her. Almost as if it had completely and utterly fallen over, the monster collapsed onto Jill, then began trying to grab a hold of any limb it could grab onto. Jill yelled, “Get the hell off of me!” trying to throw the larger body off of her, but it was to no avail. She struggled, kicked, punched, but the zombie’s monotonous groan never faltered, its grasp never let up. Within moments, she found herself being repositioned, tossed around like a rag doll to suit her assailant’s needs. She landed with an “oomf!” flat on her back with the monster grabbing at her legs, throwing them up over her head as it tried desperately, once again, to solve the mystery of pants.



“No, no!” Jill cried, kicking and punching in desperation as the monster ripped at the underside of her pants with its fingernails. It got skin as she felt cuts near her tailbone, but what followed was much worse: it got the waistbands of her underwear and cargo pants in one quick motion, and then began to hurriedly slide them up her buttocks to the midsection of her thighs. “NO!!” The monster paid her no heed as grabbed her by the knees, just enough skin exposed to do what it needed to do. Jill screamed a panicked scream; she knew exactly what was going to happen. The zombie wanted to mate, for real this time. Her bare ass felt the cool rush of the night air, and the zombie’s target felt unwillingly warm, getting wetter by the moment from the rush. She didn’t want to be turned on—dammit, no, she wasn’t turned on. But for all it was worth, she was wet.



“Barry! Barry! Help!” Jill continued to kick, refusing to let herself be penetrated by this... this thing. It was overly powerful, though, and trained and skilled as she may be, she couldn’t keep it off of her for much longer. “Barrrrry!” Her vocal cords nearly snapped as she cried out a horrific, terrorized scream, one that would keep any normal person awake for nights to come. But the zombie had no humanity left; it was driven by instinct, to feed, to survive, to breed.



Jill tried to twist her body around, writhing in the direction of her weapon less than a foot away from her reaching hand. Her ungloved fingertips clawed at the wooden floor as she tried to extend herself just enough to get it, but her newfound mate had had enough. Without any more warning than another mummified groan, the monster reached under the young woman’s waist, picked her up just slightly off the ground, and tossed her at the wall to the right, banging her head against it and forcing a high-pitched “Ouch!” out of her. Jill hissed and moaned, trying to clear her head of the dizziness before the creep got on top of her again—



It was too late. Jill fought hard to stay conscious, but perhaps it would’ve been better for her sanity to simply pass out. She continued fighting, pounding her fists weakly on the zombie’s shoulders, but soon, she could feel his rock hard mating stick pressing up against her most sacred entrance. She whimpered, defeated, “Please... no...” as the creature tried to position itself, fumbling around stupidly like a blind dog. Jill’s legs were high in the air, her thighs pressing into the thing’s chest, her pants cleaning to her shins as her legs remained spread at the monster’s will. As she felt herself finally being entered, her whole body clenched at once, her fingernails digging into the zombie’s flesh, and she screamed.



The scream was bloody, horrifying, but it was all she had left. As the creature pressed itself inside, spreading her nether lips with its pulsating cock, she gave up, surrendering at last with a tiny, ill-fated, “No…” as her final fighting attempt. Her body limp, the monster now had a firm grip on her at the knees, and it began to fuck her.



Through it all, Jill couldn’t help but feel the pang of pleasure from being entered, of being thrust into and filled again and again... Sex was wonderful, but having this thing on top of her... She couldn’t let herself enjoy it. It was humiliating, disgusting, wrong. How she ended up here, she’d never know; she simply had to hang on and live through it.



The zombie moaned as a strand of saliva fell from its gaping mouth and onto Jill’s cheek, just beneath her eye. She winced and turned her head, her body beginning to rock with the creatures motions against the wall. Her head was beginning to bang against the wall, so she moved her hands against the same fortification to try and brace herself. Her legs, still in stretched cargo pants and combat boots, rocked back and forth as she was mated while sloppy sounds of her excitement filled the dead silence.



“Ohhh,” Jill moaned, closing her eyes as she felt the cock inside her pound away. In and out, in and out... It was a familiar feeling, one of fulfillment, of desire. She reluctantly moaned more, and louder, grabbing onto her mate by throwing an arm around its neck for support while her other hand braced herself against the wall, saving the crown of her head from taking any more of a beating. Her body was pounded back and forth with the monster’s thrusts, and she began to feel dirty and aroused all at the same time.



“Ah, f-fuck me...” The words came out as a whine, not more than a sniveling of her lust that she didn’t want to admit. This... thing was fucking her, and she was enjoying it. She was enjoying being thrown on her back, being penetrated and all-out banged into the ground. It had been months since her last one... She couldn’t help it.



Her moans became more frequent, more exasperating, and the zombie never let up. More slobber fell from its mouth, but Jill hardly noticed it as she felt a climax coming. The wet, sickly slap! slap! of skin on skin, the moaning of the living and the dead mixing into a choir of grunts and groans... The room was now filled with the sounds and musk of sex, and it was driving Jill to her breaking point. She felt so hot, her clothes hardly having been shed. She needed release. “Go-o-od DAMN it!” The cock inside her was doing its job, sure, but now she felt the need to push back. Jill tried to assist her assailant, rocking her hips with her own ferocity to get the cock in deeper with thunderously loud slaps. Unable to move from her position, it was about all she could do.



Then, something happened that would make Jill question just how sane she was. As she tried to quicken the pace, the zombie’s cock slipped out; its deteriorating brain wasn’t exactly able to quickly and smoothly rectify the situation, and Jill, flustered, found herself reaching for the phallus and guiding it back in herself. She needed to cum. Bad.



The creature didn’t let up once it was back in, and Jill could feel it coming. She begged and pleaded for it not to stop, as if it could still understand her. Covered in sweat and saliva, glistening in a mix of moonlight and candles, Jill’s mouth opened wide, and for a moment, no sound came out. A rush fell through her like a tidal wave, and as she continued to be fucked with her legs over her head, she came, hard. Hot juices spurted against the invading cock, and Jill, for a few moments, went crazy with ecstasy. Her face flushed, her moans and gasps flew out by the second, and she was hit by orgasm for the first time in months.



The zombie didn’t seem to be far behind as it continued its animalistic assault on her hot, wet cunt. Balls deep with every thrust, it got more and more passionate moans out of its mate, driving her wild with its methodical humping. Apparently unable to feel pain, it never slowed down, never tired. Jill was getting dangerously close to another orgasm when the zombie began to finally up the tempo.



Soon, Jill felt a strange sensation in her innards, one she’d never let a guy give her before. As the creature groaned its lifeless groan, Jill screamed and clawed at its arms, feeling more undead seed enter her. This time, though, spurt after spurt unloaded into the cave of her pussy, not her mouth. She stared blankly at the ceiling as the hot fluids filled her up, the excess dripping out of her hole with the assaulting cock never letting up. The undead’s stamina was incredible, but as it brought itself to orgasm, it finally began to slow down, allowing itself to rest. Jill could feel her insides closing up around its softening rod, and in the midst of her afterglow, she knew she had to act now, else she risk something worse happening.



Gathering herself, she pressed against the wall with her shoulders and hands, using the leverage to kick her capturer away with her body weight. It wasn’t the prettiest maneuver ever as her pants fell to her ankles, but it gave her enough freedom to crawl and reach for her pistol. Weak as she felt, she drew enough strength to firmly grab onto the gun’s handle, turn onto her back, and get a steady aim. Right at the creature’s head. Without a moment’s hesitation, without risk of the zombie’s libido not being yet satisfied, Jill pulled the trigger. The zombie’s head exploded in a shower of crimson and gray mess, leaving the rest of its body to fall limp to the floor.



“And stay dead,” Jill managed through panting breaths. Exhausted, bewildered, ashamed, frightened... The young woman was completely overwhelmed. She was cold, hurt... and filled with zombie cum. There couldn’t possibly be a worse feeling than this. She stared up at the decorated ceiling, a mix of slimy cum and tears and sweat covering her face, a thin layer of cold sweat covering every inch of her skin as her chest heaved with deep, albeit calm, breathing. She felt strangely relaxed, lying there on the cold floor with her pants at her ankles; she was just so damn tired now. She wanted to cry. Her nerves had definitely gotten to her, and after what just happened, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get back to what she used to call sanity.



But as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t pass out. She couldn’t let go. Not here. There were more of those things. More dogs. And what they did to Joseph... She wasn’t about to go out like that. She was stronger than that. She was Jill Valentine.



She was going to make it out of here alive.





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A/N: There. Smut. Like? Dislike? Tell me. I’ll be working all weekend long, meaning there probably won’t be any updates until next week. Until then, give me some feedback as to what you’d like to see in terms of style or content. I already have some plans cooked up, but I’m open to idea of what other deviant circumstances Jill could find herself in.



Hope you’re all enjoying it.