Infesting Claire

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.

It was like she'd momentarily blacked out and was slowly coming to again, her soul drifting back into the horrified shell of her body.

For a second, her panic stricken mind didn't know what to do, she just wanted to curl up in denial and pretend none of this was happening. But she'd come too far to give up here. She needed to act. Fast.

With renewed determination, she got up and swatted as many of the crawling parasites off of herself as she could. Exiting the stall, now wearing only her black tank top and boots, she rushed to the sink and turned the faucet on full blast before trying to wash any remaining stragglers off her arms.

Stripping her damp tank top off, she splashed the scalding water all over herself, rinsing off any worms that had managed to make its way under her clothes before she washed off the ones clinging to her legs. Hopping breathlessly up onto the countertop, she tried to ignore the unmistakable wriggling that she felt inside herself -- not just in her vagina, but deep in her womb and anus as well.

Don't think about it Claire. Gritting her teeth, she repeated that sentence in her mind. Don't think about it.

Hastily, she pulled her boots off with trembling hands to upend and shake them, banging them firmly against the side of the counter to get rid of any remaining worms. Now completely naked, she shoved her feet under the powerful spray of the faucet to cleanse them.

For a brief second, she almost felt clean again, almost felt like she could stop to take a breath of relief.

But the distinct feeling of foreign objects moving inside of her made her laugh hysterically for a while instead. After coming to Raccoon City, she'd fought off zombies, mutated freaks, deformed animals and escaped from the freaking Terminator! Yet here she was, naked in some rundown liquor store's dingy restroom infested with tiny ass fucking parasites.

She couldn't stop laughing and a part of her mind, the remaining rational part that had kept her alive for this long, told her that she was hyperventilating.

Her laughter eventually morphed into uncontrollable sobs as she suddenly realized, with startling clarity, that she was completely alone. Chris was hopefully having a blast in Europe, she hadn't seen Leon since the helicopter had crashed into the police station, and she'd put a fucking bullet through poor Marvin's head...

"Fuck," she chuckled softly to herself, "get yourself together Claire." Dipping her cupped palms under the faucet, she splashed the hot water on her face with a gasp. The scalding heat refreshed her and she assessed her situation with newly determined eyes.

Now that she knew what to look for, she could see the parasites swimming on the flooded tiles, almost like schools of tiny fish darting about. Scanning the sink countertop, she was relieved to see that she'd managed to keep it pest free. Some of her clothes and other belongings were scattered about, most of it having landed on the floor, knocked off the counter during her mad rush to cleanse and seclude herself.

She knew what she had to do, but she dreaded it. She wasn't sure if her stomach cramps were due to the shuddering apprehension she felt or because she still hadn't properly relieved herself or...Don't think about it Claire...

Scooting over so that she was leaning against the wall, almost wedged in the corner of the countertop, she positioned herself so that she could clearly and easily look at her own reflection. She almost looked normal, almost looked like herself. Her tangled hair was still pulled back in a haphazard ponytail, her nipples were hard, erect from the cold air and looked like little brown pebbles adorning her soft breasts.

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, she spread her legs. With her right side leaning against the wall, the hand dryer nudging against her back, she stretched her left leg out along the countertop while scrunching her right leg forwards until it hit the mirror. She let her eyes wander up from her toes first, past her toned calves and smooth thighs until she was looking at her spread pussy in the mirror.

She immediately wished she hadn't looked and felt a little sick to her stomach.

Parasites of different sizes clung to her genitals and she could feel herself about to hyperventilate again. Looking away, she took deep breaths while her mind screamed an endless stream of ohgodohgodohgod. She wished she could somehow fit herself into the sink and use the force of the water from the faucet to flush them out. But it wouldn't be that easy.

Scooching as close as she could get to the faucet, she tried to angle the water towards her crotch but was only semi--successful. Gingerly, she carefully rinsed herself until her skin was flushed a deep pink from the heat. She kept on until she couldn't stand the scalding water anymore.

Steeling herself, she looked back at her reflection.

It wasn't nearly as infested as before. But they were still there. Clinging on stubbornly.

One had burrowed under the hood of her clit and seemed to be pulsating directly on her clitoris -- it had wrapped itself around her clit, its "head" latched onto her sensitive nubbin. Another, about half an inch long, was attached to her urethra. Trying to pull either of them off only caused blinding pain to streak through her body, like tugging directly on her own nervous system.

Spreading her labia further apart, she tried to look into her vagina but couldn't see anything. She felt it though. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm against her chest as she slowly inserted her middle and index fingers inside herself. She was surprised to find that she was wet, but everything also felt strangely hypersensitive.

She had to bite back a low moan as she once again tried to spread her pussy wide open, only to again fail to see anything. She needed a flashlight, but it was out of reach, halfway beneath the stall door of the furthest toilet. Gritting her teeth, she pushed her fingers deeper into herself and her toes pointed as pleasure laced up and through her body. "W-Why," she gasped. Why did it feel good?

Before she fully realized what she was doing, her fingers were sliding wetly in and out of her slick hole. Her head tilted back as she fingered herself, the pleasure undulating through her core in little waves. As her fingers thrust deeply into herself, she heard herself moaning and realized that she'd almost forgotten what she was doing, she'd almost completely lost herself to the pleasure.

It was hard to stop herself, but she managed to find restraint and tried to give herself a more clinical touch. Even so, she was fully aware of how wet she was, how her slick and swollen walls sucked her own fingers greedily in as she instinctively clenched with each subtle movement. She swirled her fingers around inside of herself, trying to feel for the parasite that she could feel wriggling further inside of her, just out of reach.

She froze when she suddenly felt something foreign brush against her fingertips. It felt almost like a string, thin and just barely there. She couldn't seem to get a firm grip on it. The thought of pulling on it set her teeth on edge -- clearly remembering the intense, electrifying pain whenever she attempted to remove one that seemed to have latched onto and embedded itself to her.

She screamed as she did it anyway.

The pain was so intense that she saw red, then white, before her vision slowly returned.

Her breath came in ragged pants that made her wonder how loudly she must've screamed; her throat felt raw, like the sound had been sliced out of her. Her whole body trembled slightly and she realized that she must've convulsed a bit while jerking her hand away. Inspecting her slick fingers, she realized that they were covered in more than just her juices.

Little white dots, like sesame seeds, speckled her fingers.

She didn't know how long she stared at them, strangely entranced, but she could've sworn that some of them...No, they were definitely...

She flung her hand away from herself in shocked disgust, quickly shoving her hand under the faucet's powerful stream with a nauseated cry as her mind pieced together what she'd seen.

Eggs.

They'd steadily grown larger even as she watched, before hatching tiny wriggling worms, so small and translucent she barely saw them. Bile rose at the back of her throat as she realized that she must be infested with hundreds, possibly thousands of eggs, larvae, parasites at all stages of growth. Infested by them, full of parasitic insects just growing inside of her.

Just as she wondered how quickly they grew, she looked down and realized that the worm attached to her urethra seemed larger and plumper than before. Her clit was engorged, a swollen nub of nerves; it was hard to tell whether the parasite had grown or not. She couldn't tell if she was simply being paranoid, or if she felt bloated. Maybe she'd held off from relieving herself for too long and her body was cramping in protest.