Claire's impromptu trip to Racoon City was not turning out like she'd originally planned. Sure, she'd heard the stories, the whole world had! Sensational recountings of supposedly rotting corpses shambling around were the viral thing this summer.
It'd started in the occult and paranormal circles, but quickly began being featured on radio shows as well. Zombies and the apocalypse were the hot topics now and every show was jumping on the bandwagon to take part before it died down.
But she hadn't believed any of it. Because really...c'mon, zombies?
She had more important matters to concern herself with -- such as losing touch with her brother, Chris. It happened roughly around the same time as Racoon City's ridiculous rumors began, but she'd thought nothing of it. Part of a special police force, Chris was on the Special Tactics and Rescue Service elite task force, better known as S.T.A.R.S. and Claire was used to her brother disappearing for weeks at a time.
But usually he'd give some advance notice or check in somehow to reassure her that he was fine. This was the first time that he'd gone completely radio silent and it didn't sit well with Claire. On a hunch, she had tried getting in contact with Chris' co-workers or even just getting in touch with someone at the Raccoon City police department but...no such luck.
Now, roughly two months later, Claire was not only in the heart of Raccoon City but she was a devout believer of everything she'd scoffed at before.
The zombies were real, terrifyingly so. Half the time she was never quite sure if they were going to stay down, even after planting several bullets into their decaying heads. But there was so much more...monstrosities that made the zombies laughable in comparison. Some of them didn't even look human anymore; she shuddered, remembering the eyeless, skinless creatures that looked like they'd been flayed or literally...turned inside out.
Her visit to Raccoon City had quickly met with disaster right on the outskirts of the city, but through a mix of good fortune, a lot of luck and her own survival abilities thanks to Chris' training, she'd managed to find her way relatively unscathed to the police station. It wasn't the safe oasis she'd hoped for, but at least she'd discovered that Chris had supposedly left for vacation to Europe weeks ago. She could only hope that were true.
Now, rather than finding and saving her brother as planned, she was the one in need of rescuing...
Just as she thought she'd managed to clear out the police station, a freakishly huge, hulking Terminator had appeared and she couldn't seem to shake it off her trail. It didn't seem to be a zombie, but she hadn't had any success in attempting to kill it either. That had really ruined her plans and now she was back out on the streets of Raccoon City, searching for temporary shelter.
While Raccoon City had looked like she'd stepped into the end of the world when she'd arrived, the current downpour was so intense that she could barely see past the deluge. Dodging zombies and an alarming amount of infected, mutated zombie dogs, it seemed like maybe she had finally managed to elude the Terminator in the pouring rain.
She must be several blocks away from the police station by now. At least she hoped she was. It was hard to tell with the constant zig-zagging around obstacles, but she prayed that she was heading in the right direction.
Gasping, blinking the rain out of her eyes, she quickly wiped her dripping face before shielding her eyes against the downpour to squint into the flickering darkness before her. As she continued blindly forwards, combat knife at the ready, her stomach clenched in protest and she gritted her teeth as she pushed onwards. Darting under the eaves of a nearby building, she wiped the streaming water from her face as she quickly glanced around her surroundings.
Posters of various brands of liquor covered the windows, plastered over every available inch of window space. There was no telling what was inside and her instincts told her to keep going, but her body had other demands that needed to be met.
Squatting and squeezing her legs together, she cursed under her breath, the words lost in the rattling downpour around her. Of all the times when she needed to go to the bathroom, this was the least ideal moment. But god, she desperately needed to go. It wasn't just that she urgently needed to pee. Maybe it was because the world was apparently going to hell, but despite all the gruesome atrocities she'd witnessed she couldn't bring herself to just squat behind some bushes to do her business.
She wanted to sit on a toilet like a proper human being and defecate in peace, goddammit. She seriously couldn't wait to get home...
Still crouching, she crept up to the entrance of the liquor store and cautiously peered in through the glass door. Amazingly, it looked empty and relatively undisturbed. Good signs, but she knew better than to let her guard down. She watched for a while longer, acutely aware of the rain pelting against her back.
Satisfied that there was no movement within, she risked shining her flashlight inside and confirmed that there were no zombies to be seen...so far. The door was unlocked -- maybe her luck was finally turning -- and she slipped in quickly. As the door closed behind her, the roaring downpour was suddenly muted to a whistling howl against the building. Her heart beat an anxious rhythm in her chest as she waited with bated breath, alert for any sounds coming from further within the shop.
She let out a small sigh of relief when she heard nothing and crept forwards to quickly sweep the place to make sure it was clear. For the first time since she'd arrived, she relaxed a tiny bit before quickly going back to lock the shop doors. It wouldn't keep the Terminator away, but she was confident she'd lost him and the locked doors would at least prevent any wandering zombies from sneaking up on her.
Now that she was relatively safe, her body reminded her of its needs with renewed urgency. It didn't take long to find the store's restroom and she pulled the door open eagerly. Her boots squeaked slightly with each step, but her hopes fell as she stepped through the restroom door and into a puddle. "Oh no," she murmured to herself as she guessed at what she'd find.
Hoping she was wrong, she pushed open the door to the first stall and groaned in disappointment as her flashlight revealed an overflowing toilet. "Fuck." Determined, she went on to the next one, then the last. "Fuck!" she cried out angrily, fist slamming against the side of the stall. They were all overflowing.
It took a moment before she calmed herself. So many times, she'd almost pissed herself when a deformed creature had taken her by surprise. So many times she'd lost count and yet she'd managed to hold it. She'd held it for so long she'd hoped that her body would just somehow forget until she'd escaped the city.
But now, here she was.
With a sigh, she leaned back against the stall door as she stared at the bubbling toilet in defeat. "Well, Claire," she spoke aloud, "you wanted a toilet, you got three of 'em." It wasn't ideal, but it was better than squatting in the bushes while Mother Nature drenched her as post--apocalyptic monstrosities lurked nearby.
She didn't mind squatting. At least there was toilet paper.
Trying the lights, she was pleased when they flickered on to light the dingy restroom with a steady buzz. She blinked at her own reflection. Her brunette hair was pulled back in a dripping ponytail and she noticed a few scratches on her face and neck. Shrugging off her red leather jacket, it was heavy from the rain but Chris would kill her if she left it behind. Plus, it always brought her luck when she wore it.
Her pants stuck to her skin as she peeled the damp fabric off; it stubbornly clung onto her like a second skin. Hopping up onto the sink countertop, she sat there as she peeled her pants off. The rest of her clothes were also completely drenched, but she'd deal with it later. Unbuckling her various weapons straps, holsters, and bags, she left them neatly arranged on the countertop.
Pulling her boyshorts down around her knees, her bare ass hovered over the toilet. Holding onto the stall's wall, she was careful to position herself so that the toilet water wouldn't get on her or her clothes.
She'd been holding back for so long that it took a moment before she was able to relax enough to pee. That first bit of release as her warm urine sprayed out of her urethra like a tiny golden cascade was such a relief, she couldn't help but let out a happy sigh as endorphins tickled her system.
Her sigh was short--lived and cut off by a startled gasp as she felt something wriggle up her vagina.
Her reaction was immediate as she jerked up and away from the toilet, not even caring that she was mid--stream. But it was too late. Even as her hand went down between her legs, trying to cover and protect herself from whatever was assailing her, she could feel the slick somethings sliding into her, curling around her thighs and fingers.
Staggering away from the toilet, she let out a disgusted little shriek as she saw that the toilets hadn't been bubbling simply because they were overflowing. They were bubbling and overflowing with strange, wormlike...parasites. The tiny creatures were pooling out of the toilet in swarms, swimming towards her across the flooded tiles and climbing up her boots. Glancing at her hand, she screamed as she saw the white maggot--like tendrils curling around her fingers before immediately trying to fling them off, wildly shaking her hand.
Her shorts were tangled around her knees, and she quickly tore them off, trying to rip the wet fabric off of her ankle while also attempting to scramble away from the seething toilet only to trip in her haste and fall against the stall door.
The parasites seemed to be in a frenzy, likely eager to take advantage of the first host to come across their nests. As Claire slowly recovered from her fall, they swarmed up onto her, crawling, wriggling and swimming up onto and into her body wherever they could grab hold. Claire felt like her skin was crawling with disgust, only to realize that it wasn't just in her head. Glancing down at herself in horror, she saw that they were literally all over her -- clinging to her boots, circling around her bare legs and thighs.
Sitting on the flooded bathroom floor with her back against the stall door, she cringed away when she realized they were everywhere and inescapable. For a few moments, she lost her mind as she flailed around wildly -- frantically slapping and swatting the spermlike worms off of her, shaking herself while screaming wordlessly as she splashed frenziedly in the bathroom stall. She didn't even realize she was screaming until she slowly heard herself as if from a distance.
