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His vision was distorted. She should’ve died so many times already. He felt the uncontained rage tearing at his throat as it boiled out. He knew it was impacting his abilities, but he was helpless to prevent it. As his outburst subsided he found her again, dashing between the abandoned vehicles and piles of debris, trying to put distance between them. He tore toward her, bounding over and through obstacles, relishing every piece of solid contact. He closed the distance quickly but at the last moment she dipped to the right and he went hurtling past. He’d been moving too fast to track her evasive move, and he should’ve known -- no, would’ve known if he hadn’t been SO INCREDIBLY ANGRY. His mind blanked and he didn’t even try to prevent himself from slamming headlong into an overturned truck.
Jill’s breath had caught in her throat as she moved to evade the massive pursuer. He had closed the gap between them so fast that she nearly hadn’t reacted in time; and although she’d evaded him, she was in full prey mode and didn’t for a moment consider slowing her flight. Ahead of her was a storefront with a partly lowered security gate, and she slipped under it and inside the open door without bothering to close either. She knew they wouldn’t have any affect on him when he decided to follow. And he would, sooner or later.
She wound her way through the looted aisles to a back room, then out into an alley on the other side of the building. Here she gently closed the door behind her and started to move more quietly, hoping she might’ve gained enough distance to begin masking her path. She’d heard his collision with the truck but didn’t trust that he wasn’t already making his way toward her again. She felt skittish and hyper vigilant, and at the same time like it was all futile. How could she really avoid that thing? How had she avoided him so far? Wondering over her luck, she flitted down the clogged alleys praying that she could avoid the beast just a little longer.
He lay in the wreckage and let the waves of emotion subside. This wasn’t working, he was too riled up. Had been ever since that first lucky evasion back at the police station. Since then it’d just compounded until he’d reached this current state of pathetic inefficacy.
When he finally arose his vision was clear. He refused to delude himself; he knew the rage was still there, but he was finally able to hold it in check. He tilted his mutilated face upward and scented the air; not that he needed to, he knew she’d slipped into the storefront, but because he relished her scent. She’d been successful in keeping her body from him, but her scent was always there, always strong. He could find her no matter how well she hid. A gunshot cracked the silent night and he began moving.
Fuck. The corpse had been concealed behind a dumpster and had lunged at her before she’d noticed it. She started moving further down the alley, but within a few seconds more of the shambling dead were pushing through doorways and windows, blocking her path forward. She turned to flee back the way she’d come but there were already several coming from that direction. She took a breath and calmly raised her sidearm. He was either coming, or he wasn’t. This didn’t really change things. She landed three shots to three rotting heads in quick succession. The path temporarily cleared, she started to run back the way she’d come. Movement sounded on either side, she felt a tug on her ankle, and she lost her balance.
She fell and rolled to her back in one motion, the only thought in her mind was of what her screams would sound like as she was being eaten alive. Suddenly near panic, she fired wildly at the corpse nearest to her. It was missing its lower half, entrails dragging along behind it. Its brains splattered across the concrete as one of her shots connected. Two more were very close and lumbering closer, and she pivoted toward them, dropping them both with her last few rounds. She dropped her magazine and reached for another.
Nothing.
The gunfire gave him a sense of urgency that he didn’t quite understand, but he welcomed it and moved quickly toward the source, knowing it to be her. He caught sight of her as she was falling, and stopped. She was being swarmed by vermin. There were too many of them and she was now on the ground. It was over.
She dispatched the few nearest to her. He saw her pause to reload, and saw her paw at the empty clasps on her belt.
How dare she. Before he knew it he was moving again. Some of the vermin stood between him and her, but he pummeled them against the walls and ground as he ran by. How dare she evade him as she had for so long, only to die like this. He leapt over her prone body and plowed through the mass of corpses beyond, flailing around with arms and tentacles, skewering and decapitating and crushing. How dare she humiliate him like this. The undead were nothing to him, and he decimated all of them in moments.
Then he turned to her. She was still on the ground, her eyes gone wide, more blood on her (and everything else) than had been there before his rampage. His eye contact seemed to rouse her, as she started to turn and stand, but he was done. He leapt toward her, striking out with a tentacle to whip around her and pin into the wall beyond, catching her in an almost embrace.
The anger was still there, but slaying all those undead had sated something. He was more in control than before. She’d stopped moving. She wasn’t trying to flee anymore. Her breath was quick and shallow, and her eyes were shut. Was she done too?
He scented the air. It was so strong with her scent. And now here was her body as well.
He felt an unfamiliar tingling at his crotch, followed quickly by an uncomfortable tightness against his clothes. Annoyed, he ripped them open at the crotch and let his cock fall free. It was swollen and pulsing and he wasn’t sure why, but when he raised his one milky eye back to the woman he saw that her eyes were open again, and she was looking at him with more fear than he’d seen from her so far.
He liked it, and growled low and long and entirely involuntarily. He shifted closer to her, keeping her wrapped near him by the tentacle pinned into the wall behind her, until his cock was brushing against the front of her shirt. At first her fear rose and she backed hard into his tentacle, but it didn’t last. Something changed in her expression and she made eye contact with him again for a brief moment before wrapping her hand around his cock.
Something about his posture made her realize he didn’t know what he was doing. He was off center, pursuing an instinct, but it might not last. She had to keep him like this until she could escape. If his blood cooled he would kill her as quickly as he’d killed Brad.
He was huge, and his cock was huge. Standing the thing was nearly in her face. She didn’t for a moment entertain the thought of anything actually happening here -- it would kill her without doubt. Before she could begin to question herself, she reached out and grabbed it. She wasn’t sure how he’d react, there seemed a decent chance he’d splatter her against the wall, but he froze. She could feel him writhing in her hand, but it felt almost like what she was familiar with. After a brief moment of inaction she gave him a slow, deliberate stroke. His eye rolled upward and his maw parted, teeth sharp and wet and glistening, and she let go and dipped beneath his tentacle, pushing off the wall to hasten the movement. She heard his breath catch but didn’t hesitate and took off at a dead sprint through the carnage and into the night.