● Please note that this story contains themes of incest and reluctance/non-consent. All characters involved are above the age of 18.
The first sensation I register as my consciousness comes ebbing back is a deep, disorientating ache inside my head. I feel as if my skull has been kicked in with a hard soled boot and then clumsily reconstructed by an amateur sculptor. The second sensation comes in the form of a shiver that racks over my body and sends my flesh into a frenzy of goosebumps. Why am I so cold? My eyes flutter open to see my surroundings, only I can't. Its very dark and it seems that i've been out for the count for several hours. As my senses come back to me, bit by bit, I realize the reason why I'm so cold. All my clothes seem to have left my body, the body that right now, is tensing and contracting violently in order to keep itself warm. I am lying on the grass. My thighs sting and between them, an icy cold wetness is oozing gently from within me. I feel stretched. Violated. I smell like death and decay. And worst of all, I remember every moment of it.
The desperation, the terror, the depravity and deep down, beneath that thick sludge of horror, sick pleasure. My grasp of the situation causes my stomach muscles to seize up and I vomit up what food I must have still been digesting. I'm in the process of coughing up bile, curled up painfully on my side when I hear a weak female voice call out, "are you awake?" For a moment I freeze, quivering in the darkness, every survival instinct forcing me to try and hide from the potential danger. I listen but it's hard to pick up much except for the hum of nighttime insects. Am I in the woods somewhere? Far to the left, above me somewhere, an owl hoots softly, confirming my suspicion. How did I get from the supermarket to here lying on my side, unable to move? I strain my ears to pick up a soft breathing coming from somewhere to my back.
With effort, I shift myself to face the other way, careful not to upset my fragile head too much and look across to see it. A tiny campfire sits a few meters away from me and behind it, on top of a nest of dirty, woolen blankets, a young, naked woman lies on her side, watching me. Her body is soft and glowing in the light of the fire and she displays none of the sun worn, wrinkly, tiredness of all the living folk i've seen since the outbreak started. I have no doubt that she isn't one of the infected. Her eyes are alert and watching, showing none of the degradation of madness and disease. The one thing that really draws my eye though, is her round, firm belly resting on the blankets. It's very bloated and stretches with thick black and purple veins. It is clear that this young woman is pregnant.