for days. Sooner or later, you will understand that your age has ended. We outnumber you. We are your inheritors now. Humanity's time is over.'
'We'll see about that.'
'Are we done for the day? Give me what I want.'
He turned off the camera, adjusted his glasses, and reached into a stainless steel bowl that contained the zombie's own heart. Using a bloodstained scalpel, he sliced off a small piece and dangled it over the zombie's snapping jaws with his fingers.
'This is what you want.'
'Yes,' the zombie moaned. 'Give it to me.'
He dropped the slice of muscle down the creature's gullet.
'Oh, I'll give it to you all right.'
Maynard considered locking the door, but he couldn't wait. The need was overpowering. His breathing thickened along with his rigid member. His hands trembled as he unzipped his fly and let his pants fall to his ankles. He wore no underwear. He stepped out of the pants, leaving them on the floor in a discarded heap, and reached into a drawer. He tore a condom packet open with his teeth, and slid it onto his cock. Then he applied lubricant and approached the squirming corpse.
He held his breath as he slipped inside, trying his best to ignore the stench wafting off the body beneath him. He took extra precaution to stay out of range of its toothless mouth and hands. Even bound, the zombie's fingernails could scratch him.
He shuddered, thrusting all the way into her. Her cunt was cold, but Maynard didn't care. The creature arched her back and hips, allowing him deeper access.
'You-you like this?' he gasped.
'Of course,' the zombie panted. 'This is an abomination in the eyes of the Creator-the cruel one. It hurts His eyes. So I like it very much.'
'Can you achieve an orgasm?' Maynard asked, carefully keeping his distance with every perfunctory stroke.
'No, but you can. I want you to come. I want you to shout your orgasm, spill your seed, burn His ears!'
With one hand, Maynard squirted some more lubricant, and then quickened his pace. His cock threatened to burst.
'I want you to come,' the zombie urged him.
'Come for me. Come in defiance of Him!'
'I'm going to-'
Frankie burst through the door.
'They're coming,' she whispered, her voice faint, her mouth parched.
'You've got to tell-'
She froze, staring in horror and revulsion at the scene before her.
'Jesus Christ! I've seen ... some freaks in my, time, but you ... take ... the fucking cake ...'
Then she collapsed.
'Shit!' Maynard pulled out, even as his engorged member began to spurt inside the condom. Without pausing, he ripped it off in mid-orgasm, pulled his pants on, and ran to the door. He cast a furtive glance out into the hall, but the coast was clear.
'You should have locked the door,' the zombie tittered.
'Shut up!'
He ran his glazed hands through his receding hairline.
'What are you doing?'
'She saw me. I can't let her tell the others!'
He knelt beside the unconscious woman and checked her pulse. It was slow but steady. He lifted her eyelid and checked her dilated pupils.
Then he spat in her face.
'Told you I'd get even with you, you cunt.'
He walked back over to the table, picked up the scalpel, and crossed back over to Frankie.
'It's a shame, really,' he said, more to himself than to Frankie or his undead lover. 'She would have been fun. Never had a black woman before.
But I can always do her after she comes back.'
He clenched her hair in his fist, pulled her head back, and placed the scalpel to her throat.
'At least with your throat cut, you won't be that damaged. I can wrap a handkerchief around it or something, once I get you tied up. Maybe sew it shut again.'
He gripped the blade tighter and bent down to whisper in Frankie's ear.
'Goodbye.'
'Yo, Doc, you in here? Kilker's dead and I need help.'
