No one had been prepared when an evolved strain of the common cold virus had begun to spread. Scientists and pre-emptive measures had gone ignored by governments worldwide, unable to believe in the absurdity of all, their concerns and focus lying elsewhere over some new virus.

That is, until the outbreak had begun in earnest. As if an invisible timer had hit zero, panic exploded across cities around the world as the infected made their appearance in broad daylight; women with deathly pale skin and glassy eyes walking with a drunken gait. All the worry people initially had for them were replaced with fear when they’d seen how quick they were to tear into the first person who reached out to offer help, the poor man engulfed by three of the pale women.

The terror didn’t end there however, the people who stayed to watch were treated with a glimpse of their fate as the small crowd of women parted, the middle aged man nowhere to be seen as a new pale woman laid sprawled on the floor with nothing but scraps of clothing to cloth her body, massive udders swaying as she got up and lunged for the closest onlooker, groaning in a monotone voice as she did so, sending the rest of the populace scrambling for safety.

Fem-Z, Trans Virus and Undead Babification were just a few of the nicknames tossed around as the virus ran rampant across the globe, turning healthy humans, both male and female, into walking corpses that took the form of beautiful women of various proportions, all of them hungering for the warm seed of a man as their dulled minds were overrun by constant thoughts of sex that kept them going.

Although research into a cure or at least a vaccine had been swift, it seemed nothing could stop it from how it evaded antibodies and slipped vast even nanomachines designed to eradicate pathogens and bacteria. It wasn’t just the virus that was durable however, the Infected themselves were immune to other forms of bacteria and viral pathogens. And despite thirsting for semen, never expired when deprived of it. A well placed bullet to the head however, was still applicable when it came to terminating them.

After the first grim encounter with the living dead, things seemed to be looking up despite the lack of a vaccine. The infected were slow and mindless, easily lured when they caught sight of men at which point they would enter into an all-out sprint, mindlessly running over sharp objects and other dangers in their way, which meant easy traps and plans where soldiers could wipe out hordes of the infected with ease.

That all changed when reports of ‘variants’ came in and well crafted plans began to backfire. As if in response to their intellectually superior adversaries, the virus had begun to produce infected forms capable of leading and fighting back against humanities weaponry and tactics. Soon, survivor settlements and military encampments began to go dark as they were pushed back by the renewed vigor of the Infected, the hordes of once empty headed pale women learning how to conduct pincer movements and sneak attacks on survivors.

Most terrifying of all however, were the new forms of Infected brought about by the virus’ evolution. Almost straight out of mythology and fiction, these advanced infected were capable of superhuman feats that bordered on magic. From the Lich that could revive nearby fallen undead in addition to producing a potent cloud of gas from their skin capable of rendering anything paralysed by extreme lust to the lethal Ochimusha, agents of the darkness that excelled at sabotaging defenses and attacking from the rear, their arms augmented with calcified growths that were as sharp and durable as carbon fiber was.

With their introduction, humanity’s territory began to dwindle further and further as the undead gave them no respite. Even the regular hordes of pale women had begun to show signs of greater intelligence, using their alluring forms and voices to lure in unwary survivors for conversion. One could even argue that the virus was humanity’s ticket to evolution; given new forms that were self-sustaining and more durable than their previous frail selves.

Soon, larger settlements became a rare sight as survivor numbers began to dwindle after the world’s militaries had truly broken apart. Small groups of wandering humans were all that remained as cities and rural areas became overrun by diligent hordes of Infected that roamed the lands looking for uninfected humans to convert.

As the number of survivors across the globe dwindled further and further everyday, things were looking grim for the future of humanity.

–

In an abandoned department store, two such survivors lurked in the dark as they crept from shelf to shelf looking for any supplies that hadn’t been looted yet. Sam and Damian had been best friends in college when the outbreak hit, separated from friends and family, they had stuck together through thick and thin all the way through, from the moment of hope when they’d heard the good news of the Infection being pushed back to the dark times when their settlement had come under attack after their electric fence had lost power, when a new variant of Infected had snuck in and destroyed the generator.

Since then, the pair had been constantly on the move, scavenging supplies wherever possible and evading patrols of Infected, even managing to outrun a Banshee when they’d been detected by its echolocation. It was the reason they’d made a stop in the department store, looking for supplies to replace the bag they’d dropped in order to outrun their pursuer.

Entering a derelict building with tight enclosed spaces like this was tantamount to suicide, but at this point, the two had no choice if they wanted to continue living as humans, they would either join the horde on the streets below in an endless pursuit or somehow find an abode in this hopefully empty building.

And from the looks of things, the building seemed well and truly abandoned. Silence hanging in the air as a thick layer of dust coated everything. Sam was busy looking over the medicine cabinets behind the counter while Damian was over at the clothing department, looking for spare clothes to replace their foul smelling jackets and ragged shirts.

Their luck however, was about to run out. As the two men operated separately in the seemingly abandoned store, a third entity silently watched the pair, waiting for the right moment to strike as it eyed Damian going further and further back into the corner of the store, his companion being none the wiser to its presence.

Looking over a long line of clothes, Damian smiled as he looked at a dusty mannequin, its plastic curves displaying an exquisite set of lingerie, its purple ornaments still shining as he shone his torch on it. It was hard to get aroused at the idea of women now when most of his recent memories had been of those very same daydreams destroying everything he knew.

He thought back to Sam however, currently looking for meds on the other side of the department store. He wondered what things would’ve been like if he’d been born a girl. He was afraid of revealing his feelings for Sam since the two of them were men but he couldn't help but wonder about a brunette girl, his female self, settling down with Sam and having a child together as he gazed at the mannequin and the lingerie it sported.

Caught in his thoughts however, Damian would never see the creeping shadow crawling silently across the ceiling as it descended on him, its heavy mass pinning him to the floor as he yelled in shock, a cold sting running up his spine as he felt the ice cold maw of the Infected plunge into his arms. Looking up in fear as his torch illuminated the pale visage of a Phantom, slinking quickly back up into one of the many holes dotting the rafters with a mischievous giggle. He’d heard talk about them from his time back at the camp but he didnt think they could be real; swift Infected that struck with precision.

Looking down as the sound of shredding clothes reach his ears, he glimpsed his own transformation as the bite wound on his arm closed up as the viral payload began to circulate rapidly across his body, the pale coloration of the Infected already coating his rapidly slimming form as a pair of budding breasts tore free from his clothes, the jiggly masses tipped with purple nipples as locks of pale blonde hair began to frame his now enhanced vision, hissing in pain with a feminine voice as the light from his torch began to sting his eyes, balling his dainty fingers into a fist as he smashed down on it with surprising strength.

As the changes began to ravish his face and a soft sigh of pleasure escaped his soft lips in response to the dwindling manhood settling into place over the newly formed slit between her plump legs however, Damian knew that her time as a human had come to an end as what remained of her mind began to flood over with an empty void of hunger that rang to be filled as her toned belly began to tingle and ache for something to fill it, the painful memories of loss and survival as a human slowly vanishing with each second as her mind connected itself to the local network of infected.

Part of her mind experienced a tinge of surprise as she felt herself link up with her fellow sisters but that quickly faded along with the rest of her former identity. After all, how else would they have been able to conduct their surprise attacks against the humans so efficiently without it? It was common knowledge amongst them, especially for commanders such as her, the humans had felt the need to label them Wights in reference to folklore in awe of their power to both command and lead in battle no doubt, their worthless guns were no match for their speed and strength.

Through the cold and dismissive thoughts against her human prey however, the image of a young blonde man drifted into view in her mind. Despite the loss of her human self, the Wight still retained Damian’s strong link to Sam. Although they were foreign to her, the undead could recall memories of living together with this boy, talking with him and fighting to survive against her sisters.

The image of Sam had warped within her mind from a former best friend to something more as she felt strong emotions well up inside her the more she thought of him, going from best friend to potential mate in her twisted mind as she hungered to bear a child with the man, the result of the bond the former Damian had with Sam mixing with the feral instincts of a Wight as she ran a hand over her belly, the aching within intensifying further as she felt the need to be with this Sam.

Wights like her had the little known ability to bear offspring but given how rare it was for a Wight to set foot on the frontlines to find an uninfected human male, no one had known about this. To the Wight family of undead though, it was a part of what fueled their drive for human seed. But because the undead never aged and were self-sustaining, they restrained themselves from the act of procreating with humans. Preferring to wipe them out rather than give in to lust.

But she was different. With how strong Damian’s feelings and personality were, they had survived the infection’s ability to wipe out the host’s original identity, instead bleeding into and living on in the Wight that had taken his place. In other words, she was a Wight that had the thinking processes of both the undead and a regular human with feelings for Sam.

To her, it felt like minutes had passed. But where there once was a young man in his thirties with shaggy brown hair only seconds ago, there now stood a tall intimidating woman in the nude as she rose to her full height, standing a head or so taller than the clothing racks. Her pale skin reflecting the dimming embers of the dying bulb by her dexterous feet as she took in her surroundings, her face the definition of a femme fatale as her perky lips curved into a smile.

The Wight folded her slender arms over her chest as she looked over the line of women’s wear, a particularly skimpy pair of lingerie catching her attention as she plucked the clothes off their display mannequin, slinking into the revealing cloth. It was a bit of a tight fit but it would have to do. Right as she finished adjusting the lacey straps of the top she heard a man's voice shout out from behind her, drawing her attention.

“Damian! You alright? What happ-”

Licking her lips, she spun round with a cute twirl to face her partner while trying her best to ignore the sting of the torch in his hands as she posed sexily for him in a way she knew human men found erotic, expecting her smile to be returned in earnest. But the look she gave him sent a pang of sorrow through her cold heart as she saw the look of fear on his face as he backed away from her. No matter, she was a Wight, and Sam was human. Whether he was willing or not, she would have him father her children at the end of the day.

Her proposal rejected, she began to walk towards the retreating Sam, glaring upwards as she heard the skittering sounds of approaching feet in the ceiling, sending a mental warning to her sisters not to interfere, her glaring crimson pupils sending them cowering as they crawled back up into their abode as they watched their leader approach the trembling human as he dropped his torch, the glass shattering leaving them in the dark as the glowing crimson eyes of the Wight were all that remained to light up the darkness as she approached him.

–

Sam had been in the middle of prying open a lockbox in the medial section of the store when he’d heard his friend shout, the distant illumination of his torch going haywire as the thud of a body hitting the floor resounded.

Hearing Damian’s initial cry of fear already had him rushing to his feet, Sam dashed over to his friend's side of the store with panic heavy in his heart as he vaulted and leaped over fallen shelves, stealth no longer on his mind as he hoped the worst hadn’t come true and Damian would somehow be alright.

Rounding the corner and stopping mid shout, Sam’s worst fears are realized as his torch illuminates the curvaceous form of a pale beauty, her buxom body hugged tight by a set of gothic nightwear that complemented her undead looks well as she seemed to pose for him, arms up behind her gorgeous head of air as she stuck her chest out to display her impressive assets. But Sam knew it was all a trick, a ploy to get him to approach the deadly beast before him.

 Although she smiled warmly at him, there was no mistaking the glowing red eyes that stared right into his soul, it was a Wight, an Infected variant that could supposedly take control of lesser Infected, directing the hordes to do their bidding alongside a bevy of other abilities that made them a fearsome sight to behold when spotted in the field.

He gulped as he felt dread creeping up his body, backing away from the Wight who had dropped her bait, approaching him slowly as her look of sadness turned into fury, her crimson eyes glancing upwards for a second before returning to focus directly on him, the torch in hand falling to the floor as he lost his composure, falling onto his butt as she steadily got closer to him, his wide eyes locked onto her wide hips swaying from side to side as she did so.

Sam noticed shreds of torn clothing lying about alongside a discarded satchel bag and a shattered torch as he gazed at the approaching Wight. Seeing no one else around…it couldn’t be, was this Wight his former friend?

Before he could open his mouth however, the Wight was upon him, straddling him with her legs to prevent his escape as she pressed down on his chest with her small arms, bending down to get a better look at him. He felt a blush form on his face as his eyes glanced between the impressive melons dangling in front of him to the lovely face of the Wight as her frown softened into that same smile she had on her face earlier as she raised a hand to caress his cheeks. Now that he was experiencing it, he couldn’t deny it felt good. If you weren’t aware of the zombie apocalypse ravaging the world, the scene looked like an ordinary man and an unusually deathly pale woman about to do the deed. He had half expected her to take his legs off and bite him then and there, this was nothing like what he’d seen happen to other survivors.

But thinking back to the discarded bag and jacket he clearly remembered Damian wearing, he willed himself to speak to the undead currently strong his cheeks with her cold hands, looking her straight in her brilliant red eyes as he tried not to stammer. “A-Are you Damian? Do you know me?”

Her smile turned into a confused pout as she heard his question. But still she nodded, her eyes shutting into an overjoyed look of happiness as she lay across his chest, the blush on his face intensifying as he felt her cold body squish into him, her pillowy breasts spreading out across his. God, was she a Wight or some lovey dovey girlfriend?

In all probability though, he knew this Wight had to be Damian. The discarded items, the shredded clothes and the only thing that remained was this Wight currently snuggling her head to his neck like an attention hungry pup. His eyes caught movement in the darkness above however, as he caught pale eyes watching the two with interest in the cracks and craters that poked the ceiling…the culprits who ambushed Damian and infected him, he guessed.

Turning his attention back on the Wight though, Sam wondered what to do. Unlike the others he’d seen infected, she didn’t immediately attack him or start fucking him right then and there. On top of that, here she was, an all powerful Wight, the top of the zombie food chain, snuggling him as she pinned him to the floor. And to top it all off, she had understood him (somewhat). That had him wondering if Damian was secretly gay and his affection for him had warped the resulting Wight.

A feminine groan snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked back up at the Wight who was now looking at him with a wanting look, her pale cheeks lined with a bruise like purple hue that he assumed was the undead equivalent to a blush. She grunted once more she shot him a look of need while nudging her hips against his, the puffy cameltoe between her quivering legs rubbing up against the massive boner he now sported as she played with the garter belt straps on her thigh with a finger, almost as if she was asking him for it.

It was probably the infection's innate side effect of causing its victims to be perpetually turned on, their brains over run with the need for human semen. Ever since the variant evolution though, the instinct seemed to have dulled somewhat, especially with commander types like the Onimusha and Wights who could tame those desires. Damian though, seemed to be consumed by that need, her lips trembling as she bit back her urges. He found it adorable how she kept trying to divert her eyes away from his number two, fidgeting constantly throughout.

"Why does she have to be so cute?!” Sam mentally screamed to himself as he burned the image of her pleading face into his mind.

But what would Damian want? Was he still in there? He’d heard the military advise on how the Infected were essentially new individuals entirely, something about their consciousness or whatever being replaced.

But Damian had to have had some influence on the Wight he had become, if not then Sam probably wouldn’t even be himself anymore at this point. Thinking hard, he finally sighed as he raised his arms up in defeat, nodding to the delight of Damian the Wight as she rose off of him, allowing him to sit up as Sam undid the belt fastening his jeans together, blushing as he watched the awestruck girl eye his member with lust as she pushed the thin veil of cloth clinging to her privates aside with a finger, crawling over to him as he laid back down against a shelf for support as he braced himself for his partner to lower herself over his erect member.

“I’m ready, Damian.”

At that, the Wight plunged downwards, impaling herself on Sam’s meaty member as she let out a cry of happiness in the sexiest voice Sam had ever heard as he tingled in pleasure at the feeling of his partner's freezing cold insides embracing his entire girth as she began to get into a steady rhythm, bouncing up and down off his cock as she rode him with renewed vigor.

Not looking to be outdone, Sam leaned forward as he wrapped an arm around the Wight’s wide hips, admiring how soft and smooth her skin was as he nibbled on Damian’s perky nipples, a girly yelp escaping from the Wight’s lips as her shaky arms reached out to wrap around her lover’s broad shoulders for support at the sudden burst of pleasure she was bombarded with, Sam taking over with the love making as he wrapped his free hand around her other breast, teasing the fleshy mound as Damian convulsed under Sam’s grip.

It wasn’t long till Sam reached his limit. Unable to withstand his partners glorious insides as he unleashed his load, flooding his friends freezing depths with a healthy dose of steaming hot baby batter as she screamed out in delight, Sam wincing as he felt her nails dig into his back as her vaginal walls clenched tightly around her lovers member, squeezing him dry of every drop he had.

Sam fell back onto the store floor with a sigh of satisfaction as Damian did the same, using her shaky arms for support as she leaned down to kiss him lovingly on the cheeks, surprised as he felt soft breaths of frigid air tickle his brow as the Wight stared at him with loving eyes. So did the undead still need air? Or was it just muscle memory from their time as a living human? At least he knew undead couldn’t be impregnated. The load he shot into her would definitely have been enough to get any girl pregnant, but since Damian was a Wight, it was probably fine to come inside of her.

Sam blinked as he heard Damian grunt in excitement, grabbing his arms and directing them over to her now warm belly as a visible aura of steamy air surrounded their privates, his manhood still lodged deep inside her womb. She wore a dreamy look of happiness on her face as she looked back down at him.

“Baby…our…child!”

As she rasped the words in her silent voice, Sam’s eyes widened as he stared down in disbelief at his lover’s belly. Was she saying she was pregnant? But how could it have been this fast? Even if he didn’t want to believe it however, her eyes weren’t lying; the crimson orbs sparkling with excitement as she nuzzled her soft head of blonde hair against his shoulders, giggling madly in that lovely voice of hers, oblivious to her mate’s worries.

So not only had he screwed his best friend-turned-Wight but he’d also somehow become a father. But what would their child need? Education? Food? His mind rushed with ideas and worries that came with parenting. Things were proceeding way too fast for him, one moment he’d been scavenging for supplies in a zombie apocalypse with his friend and now he was facing the concept of being a husband after fucking and impregnating said friend in a world gone mad.

But before he could lose himself further however, the Wight’s voice grabbed his attention once more. A lusty look burning in her eyes once more as she wiggled her hips side to side, jerking his manhood back up to full mast inside of her. “M-More?”

Sighing, Sam gave himself to his wife as he returned her gaze, planting a kiss on her waiting lips. How could he say no to that lovely face of hers? Pushing aside his worries, he steeled himself for a long night of lovemaking as the last glimpses of fading sunlight drenched the two in complete darkness as they began the second of what would be many rounds of passionate lovemaking.

The echoing sounds of manly grunts and womanly screams of delight reverberated through the streets of the abandoned city, keeping both undead and survivors awake, wondering what the heck was going on as the newly wed pair went at it all the way into night.

THE END