Story: The Trials of Yannick part 1 (Patreon)

(contains monster TF, lots of shooting, and busty bats)

Today had been a good day for acquiring necessary supplies. So far, anyway.

Looting. Might as well call it what it is. Going door to door taking anything that looks remotely edible. I have become quite a capable thief. Only took a week to upgrade from basement recluse. Of course, if I had predicted a city-wide quarantine, I would have had stored something a bit more substantial than Doritos.

But it could have been worse. I managed to make my home relatively safe with what ready supplies I had. Most of which came from Mr. Jackson next door. He had been in the middle of a renovation when things went down, leaving an excellent selection of materials and tools to modifying my house into some semblance of a fortress. Just cause I worked at analyzing security systems for faults does not mean I can hammer a masterpiece out of scrap. The appearance of a meth addicts' senior shop class project didn't matter. Sun Tzu said, “The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy's not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him; not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.”

I couldn't go that far, and besides, I would know that any defense has an exploit around it, but I totally could make it a pain in the ass to bother. In that regard, I was pretty much left alone unless I strayed too far. Not too many dangers wandered into my cul de sac so far from their downtown lairs.

And then there was that other rule, or law, or...Murphyism, I guess. The shorter my supplies ran, the further from safety I had to go to acquire more. Which is why I was several blocks away from the security of my basement, crowbarring someone's back door.

Hey, don't judge me. I was out of toilet paper. You would be amazed what some people prioritize during their supermarket raids.

It was a rather fancy, two-floored house that looked relatively untouched. The living room was spacious with all the furniture arranged in an upright and orderly fashion. No sign of residents either, so it was unlikely anyone would mind my raiding of their pantry. Most were long since evacuated to some place far safer. Guess who had been too busy trying to fix a glitch on his Twitch page to get on that bus.

The first floor alone quickly stuffed my backpack full of dried goods, while medicines from the bathroom filled every pocket available. That left me pretty set for at least a week now. I would have to mark this place to come back later if the top floor had anything as good.

A loud thud from above caused me to jump, dropping a two-liter bottle of soda on the kitchen floor. My gaze shot straight up but of course, the kitchen ceiling would not offer me any clues to what was happening. Hopefully, this place really was unoccupied. Or at the very least I was hoping it was just another survivor laying low. There were far worse things to run into besides disgruntled residents.

I slowly withdrew the Beretta from its holster at my hip and checked the chamber. Brass looked back up at me. One of many small defensive gifts from an abandoned police car down the street from home, picked by Mr. Lockout Tool. Overall they were not going to be very effective against real trouble. It was still great for making me feel better, though.

Unfortunately, there was also that feeling of concern if someone might still be up there. Assuming it was still a person. They could be hurt or incapacitated in their last breaths. That might explain the pristine condition of the living room if they could not descend some stairs. That thought got a grimace out of me.

I ascended the steps one at a time keeping pressed tight against the wall. I was never any good at disobeying my conscience. As soon as the landing came into view, I knew only trouble laid ahead. The top of the stairs was partially blocked off by a coffee table and some dining chairs. All of them were broken with signs of various claw or bite marks through the varnish. Beyond that, the floors were virtually covered in dirty clothes, piles of half eaten food, and stuff I'd rather not think about.

No sign of blood though. That was good, I think. Not precisely comforting in this city's current state, but at least there might not be something up here ready to chew my face off.

Just something moaning softly behind a slightly opened door across the way. My instincts screamed that I should be fleeing down the stairs out of this house. Instead, I was already climbing over the broken barrier of furniture trying to avoid making too much noise. I wondered why I had to do this. Curiosity and proper upbringing might literally get me killed.

I could hear no further sounds as I made my way to the door. Trying to open it quietly proved nearly impossible. The bedroom beyond had so much garbage piled around the floor was covered entirely. Pushing open the door promptly caused a stack of cans to topple over in a ringing chorus of metal bangs welcoming my presence.

Just a few feet away was a bed covered in stains I would happily never want to identify. On it, the girl that had been laying in her filth shot up at my unintentional entrance with bloodshot eyes ready to pop out. Of course, I quickly hid my gun behind my back while my other hand raised up in a calming sign.

"W-who the fuck are you? No...not going to matter. Get the hell out of here!"

"Woah, hey! Look, lady! I'm not going to hurt you." I shoved the door open a bit more to wiggle on inside. Even though I kept to the far wall, my intrusion just seemed to cause her to scoot away to the head of her bed. "Are you hurt? Do you need anything? There's still plenty of stuff downstairs. Why are you holding up here?"

"No...no...it's too late. You gotta get the fuck out. Those bastards! I had no choice!"

Oh good, she started to flail like a lunatic. So glad I went up here. Especially after I dodged a barrage of pillows and sheets smelling delightfully of human waste. It allowed me to see her naked form in all its glory. Usually a welcome prospect, but amongst so many empty medical supplies...

Poor thing was malnourished beyond belief; with ribs visible through the leathery skin. That she could throw so firmly was a big surprise. I guessed her age about twenty at most, not much younger than me too.

"Lady, I just want to help. Can you just calm...”

It was not the bones showing through her gangly limbs that shocked me. Nor was it the cuts and needle marks all over her body. No, it was the spread of empty Epipens and pill bottles she was laying in that raised my red flags. Almost all of them had the hauntingly familiar, fancy font letters of 'Diagnostics Unlimited.'

"Oh. OH!" I was already inching towards the door with my gun slowly leveling on her. It was a bit pointless regarding protection. Those bloodshot eyes, once filled with pain and fear, became hidden under a jet black ink spilling out from the pupils. They still blinked and twitched, searching for me through their dark fog. "Don't tell me that was all mutagen. Are you fucking crazy!?"

"I had...no choice...they were...everywhere..." The woman's words were broken up between fits of laughter. A chilling sound that grew more vibrant each time she did it. "They were coming...coming through the ceiling...had no chance...they don't...hurt you if you smell like them..."

Yeah, I know, a bit cliche to say I was captivated by the woman's transformation. She began to grasp at her own face in a strange attempt to pull at her cheeks. The skin responded by shriveling up. Outlines of jawbone and skull jutted out under flesh that seemed to be dehydrating at a frantic pace.

Another attempt to grab her face sounded out a gross ripping noise. Blood was soon smearing over her cheeks due to her fingers sprouting bone protrusions that developed claws. They raked slowly across the top of her head, quickly taking most of her blond hair with them.

"Joo shmall noice!" I do not know how but those coal black eyes stared intently through me. She was quickly becoming incoherent with basic speech. Something I chalked up to the fact her teeth were growing sharp points that tore through her lips, curving into grasping hook shapes. How could a voice that booming and gravelly come from a lady that small? "Joo shmall tahsty!"

I was already scrambling over the broken furnishings to get downstairs by then. Despite popular belief, I am not an idiot. Maybe a bit of a dim bulb for not moving with mom and dad to the far south, but that was in hindsight and not here.

No. Here was a woman making garbled speech as she became an abomination of nature. This was the last place I wanted to be, especially when a loud crash alerted me that the lady's bed had been thrown across the room. It was pure luck it fell in a way that jammed the door partially open. As I crawled over the blockade, a leathery-skinned arm shot through. It's long, bone claws ripped out plaster in a desperate attempt to grab at me.

There were about ten seconds before this new mutated creature found out the door was only slightly more sturdy than walls. No time to go out the same way I came in; too slow. I would never get downstairs in time to reach the back door. That was my line of thought for how windows became an acceptable exit strategy. Picking up half the remains of a chair, I bolted across the landing into an empty master bedroom. Odds were most of its furniture was what blocked the staircase. A bit of a shame that left me little to brace the door with beside its lock.

No time to dwell on that now. A savage screech and loud cracking sounds told me that 'lady' had either figured out how to open her door or was eating it. There was a sliding glass door leading onto a balcony. Keyword being 'was' after I threw my chunk of chair hard enough to shatter an opening.

Another loud thud resounded through the room after I stepped onto the balcony. Glancing back I saw the door had compacted inwards from the massive force striking its other side. Somehow, it managed to withstand the blow, but something told me a second was likely to finish it off.

I was up and over the railing without time to consider what might be twelve feet below me. It was all I could do to dangle off the ledge and reduce the fall. Another crash signaled the demise of my last safe blockade, but that was when a drainage pipe entered the corner of my vision.

With a push, I flew the short distance to grasp onto the metal tube. The several cuts I received trying to hold its thin corners was my first mistake. My second would be assuming it could carry the weight of young gamer such as myself. Several snapping bolts from its support told me that it could not.

The grass was softer than it looked. That or I had already lost feeling in my ass before landing on it. I didn't spend much time thinking on that, 'cause my legs still worked. Within a quick roll, I was back up into a full-blown run for safety.

I didn't get far enough since I managed to hear more shattering of glass above me seconds later. A few more yards and my ears burned at the slurping growls of the creature crawling over the balcony. Damn thing gave me no chance to hide. I was not about to risk glancing back but knew I had been spotted when a sound like a wet towel slapped the pavement. Rapid clicking of claws began to overtake my footsteps despite the onset of panic urging me faster.

"Hey! This way!"

A considerate human voice? Thank fuck! Anything seemed better than the alternative biting at my heels. With a hard leap, I did a sharp turn towards an opening between two condos where the sound had come from. Apparently, that monster had not expected my sudden shift. Her claws made a painful screeching sound tripping over herself trying to make a hard stop.

As soon as I was clear of the sidewalk, all hell seemed to break loose. Gunshots sounded off from both buildings deafening the area. I barely got a few more steps before having to clamp my ears to prevent them from exploding. That's when I looked up and saw them; people dressed in black with a hodgepodge of different face masks. At least one man form every possible window rained a hail of lead down on the mutant behind me.

They only kept at it for a few seconds, which was followed by some new guys poking their heads out. I was somehow less relieved to see them holding projectile barrels far larger than assault rifles.

"What are you just standing around for!?" I looked to see one of the guys at the other end of the alley. He was waving frantically for me to come along into the left building. "Move your stupid ass!"

Much as they looked dressed to rob a convenience store the angry roaring behind me made an excellent argument about my options to live past today. I pushed with all the strength my legs had left, following the guy around to the front door. We barely got inside when I heard several thumping sounds of forty millimeter frag grenades being fired. That made me promptly dive for the carpet.

The walls shook from the resulting explosions, but I seemed to be the only one remotely concerned about it. The guy that lead me in merely stepped over my body into the back room.

"Did we kill it?"

There was a pause. I kept my head covered in case the windows crashed inwards from another barrage.

"Nah," said another voice. "I think we punched a few holes in it, but these things just keep running on that shit. It's fucked off for now anyway. Who do you think it was?"

"Probably Macy four doors down. I saw that asshole chased off her dad's balcony by it. She must have finally resorted to using his bootleg supplies."

"Dumb bitch always was following in daddy's footsteps. Told her it was safer just hanging with us."

I could hear footsteps coming back into the room so took the opportunity to observe my surroundings. This condo felt more like refugee storage than a dining room. The area was stocked to the ceiling with container boxes, coolers, and generator powered lights. More importantly, I was being surrounded by my rescuer and two other guys. Only the one who had last spoken pulled down his rubber monkey mask to reveal an Asian man barely looking out of his teens. Although that scruff of beard gave him a bit more edge.

"Hope you're not injecting mutagen either, stupid. That SWAT van we found out back gave us plenty more frag for it."

"No, no! Of course not!" I spoke with a lot more confidence than I had. At least one of them was kind enough to offer me a hand up. "Thank you so much for saving m..."

Soon as they got me back on my feet, any optimism to salvage this day went to hell. I looked over to the first man to find my gaze going down the barrel of a rifle.

"Sorry about this, pal," he said with a rather pained expression. "You're not what we were saving."

And that was how I ended up hobbling home late in the afternoon with just my pistol and a bruised hip for my efforts. They could have at least left me a painkiller after ripping the bottle from my pocket. The only reason I got to keep my gun was that it was only good at making me feel safe. It was a popgun against any mutant and entirely underpowered compared to anything a self-respecting bandit would have.

Not to say their suped-up AR-15's could do better against that mutant. I was just not in the mood to argue weapon potency with people pointing such guns to my head. All that was left was the walk of shame back home.

***

Making it home in one piece was probably my greatest, if only, success of the day. As I mentioned before, the old homestead got a bit of a construction treatment. Metal sheets were hammered in to cover all the windows. A mix of wire and wood surrounded the yards with sturdy fences. I would have a trench around the area too, but I lacked the muscle power to commit. Although the sandpaper with nails trap would still make crossing the lawn a pain.

There was no front door to bother with. That got as many spare two by fours as I could get in. A bridge of collapsible ladders allowed me easy crossing from Jackson’s roof to my own with little problem. That made things a bit of a pain for would-be attackers. The ones that did not climb with flesh tearing claws.

Once inside, I could at least feel a bit relaxed again. By some miracle, I still got power and internet. Granted if that went out, Jackson also had a handy generator among his power tools. I made sure my helpful self-made roof hatch was secure before heading down into the basement for a session on my old computer rig. After looking up medical data, I doubted my falling injury was much to worry about. Still might be best to stay at home for a few days to see how it healed up.

Getting my hard stolen supplies mugged was depressing, but not too life-threatening. I was not about to just hang around waiting for doom to creep up on me. The pantry had more than enough canned beans, spam, and ramen noodles to keep hunger at bay for some time. It just never hurt to get extra stuff because you have no idea how many other jackals are running loose.

Thinking about it made my pantry the next target. Both for food and to pop a few painkillers from my stash on the top shelf. Perhaps some hamburger helper mixed with canned hash could make a decent meal.

It…could have turned out much worse. Not a taste that immediately makes you want to spit it out. A little milk to make the bright orange cheese powder dissolve right probably would’ve made it a lot better, but that’s just wishful thinking.

With dinner forced down, I flop back onto my desk chair. Only activity left was the one keeping my sanity together; hitting the stream button on my Youtube page. The webcam atop my monitor shines the green light signaling its activation, and my face juts up into the best smile I can fake with a still throbbing hip.

"What is up, my merry band of nerds!? Yanduray reporting in from another round of mutant dodging scavenging."

My smile became a bit more natural settling into my online persona. Yanduray was meant to be a play on my name, Yannick Durandal, though I can’t remember what gave me the idea. I guess it didn’t matter. These days you need something fun and catchy like Markilpier to get attention.

That is to say when a city-wide crisis the likes of Resident Evil was not already generating more traffic than god. My stream's chat was full of thirty some odd people at almost all hours of the day. Within the couple minutes it took Youtube to notify I was live that number nearly tripled. Most text sent flew by in a blurred torrent, but I could gather the general consensus. They either wanted to know if I was doing alright or any new information about what the hell happened to this city.

Surprise of all surprises, the news media was spinning all sorts of things from riots to a zombie outbreak.

"Yeah, sorry to say I won't be getting back to my Let's Play of Phantom Wail 2 anytime soon. It's been a week since the military closed off the city, and we're being advised it's better to turtle up than risk evacuating. Can't say that's without merit anymore because I ended up running into one of those crazy monsters first-hand today. Lost all my supplies as a result."

Not sure why but I really did not feel like recounting the story of how I got rescued and subsequently robbed by the same jerkwads. I felt stupid enough without drawing a diagram for it to thousands. Besides, this might be a bit more interesting to get out. The chat was now going so fast I had to click-lock it to read anything.

"Oh, I'm not kidding guys. Not only are those rumors about mutants running rampant true, I actually saw a person transform. And get this; it was because she injected over a gallon of mutagen from Diagnostics Unlimited. In hindsight, I wish I'd grabbed a needle as proof, but now we can agree for certain those morons are to blame. If nothing else, they made good on their attempts to mass produce mutagenic for the common schmuck. I know you don't have a reason to believe me yet. Just hope if they DMCA this video, it makes them look really suspicious."

I paused to take a long drink of water. The tap tasted metallic and went down grainy. Really hope I run across a house that invested in water filters soon.

"But yeah, I'd swear on my mom's heart their bathtub brew is why we got the army walling in a whole city. Love you, mom and dad, by the way. Hope you guys are safer than me. Everyone should have just saved up for MSB’s overpriced genetic mutations. At least you'd actually get your bigger boobs or furry horse fix instead of growing a face like an anglerfish. Damn, that girl had a set of teeth, or maybe it was the sudden lack of lips that made them look big. Oh, and the claws. I think she had more of those than fingers by the time she was done."

Considering the chats reactions, I almost felt like some big conspiracy spouting nut. Genetic engineering had taken insane leaps over the past year thanks in large part to a group of researchers that formed the company Madam Science Boutique Biotics and Pharmaceuticals. Or MSB because that’s a mouthful. Diagnostics Unlimited was probably spending all the money earned from cutting corners to shield their public image as much as possible. Most news stories that cropped up rarely reported anything substantial about either companies involvement.

One group was even claiming we were facing the beginnings of a growing revolutionary movement against our president. They make the savage mutants look sane.

"Ah...a-anyway, that's about all I got to report on now guys. I'm very scratched up and a bit tired from that all. Stick close to those news tabs, and I'll get back as soon as I know anything else. Bye-bye!"

I gave a little two-finger salute before clicking the recording off. Now that I had a chance to relax, my body really was drained from all that running. I was not even paying attention to what I wrote in the video description before hitting upload. It was either some snarky remark about the current state of things or complete gibberish. Either way, I had just enough energy left to get to my bed before sleep took over.

***

The next day started out sucking. Waking up always sucked actually, but this time a strange grinding noise gave me one heck of a migraine.

Another problem was that I needed a full minute to realize that noise was not inside my head. With a start, I bolted out of bed to the slit in my window barrier. An unmistakable whirring of blades was getting closer, but there was nothing out on the yard.

It was not until the noise seemed directly on top of me that I thought to look up. Yup, a helicopter was flying over me. Good to see the military doing something besides keeping stragglers from evacuating.

Still took me a moment to put all the puzzle pieces together. But when I did, I was clambering up onto the roof like another sick mutant was on my heels. By then it was a bit too late. There was a handy stash of flares by my makeshift exit just for such an event. Even with those, the helicopter had long since passed, making its way towards the much taller buildings of downtown in the distance.

I threw the flares off my roof in a string of curses. Preparing to go back inside for some extra black coffee I gave them one glance back which proved to be a wise decision. Quite unexpectedly a box suddenly fell out of the back hatch, promptly opening up a parachute to slow its descent.

That had me turning back with complete attention. As I watched, the helicopter continued its apparent flight route. Every two hundred yards or so another large metal box got dropped from its cargo hatch.

Were they..?

My first thought was the military had started a carpet bombing campaign.

Thankfully when the first box did land, there was no explosive accompaniment. I thought of more comforting possibilities. After about eight drops the helicopter banked a hard left towards the nearest quarantine border. Maybe they were dropping off packages of supplies for the citizens trapped in here.

That was not as comforting a thought as it sounded. Lady luck was already turning her back on me today. A lot of those drops fell into territory bandits were sure to be running amuck. Not even a fraction of those supplies would get to the people that actually needed them.

Not unless someone did something about it.

Someone really stupid.

Like, the most suicidally foolish person there is.

Was there ever any doubt that would be me?

I went back inside to prepare for one hell of a milk run. There may not have been a SWAT van to raid around this block, but I still had enough to make due. Before long I was climbing off the roof wearing an umpire's vest, construction helmet, skater protection pads, and a lovely little Mini 14 someone had been stashing between bed mattresses. If bandits did show up, I wanted to put up a fight this time. I was not going to pretend any human in two miles did not notice the roaring helicopter.

Turns out my gut feeling was right. The first two crates had dropped very close to home so finding them was a relatively simple task. Getting them home was thanks to Mr. Jackson having left his keys in the passenger side mirror of his Ford pick-up. Admittedly, I never got the knack for driving just very good at crashing on lets plays. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind a few dings if he came back.

The first crate ended up partially lodged into some hedges. That must have worked in my favor. There was no sign of freak or jackass after watching it for a few minutes. Eventually, I made my way over to the hidden side of the hedge to crack it open. Inside laid a wealth of essential medicines and US Army MRE’s beyond even what I expected. The crate itself was a bit too heavy for me to lift sadly. I had to settle on a few trips back to the truck shoveling the goods in armfuls at a time.

The second crate looked like a death trap before I even got on the same street. It was in tune with my bad luck streak that it landed square into the frame of someone's Chevy. And of course, it had to be the ‘tourist’ street. The collapsed remains of a gas station lay right next to it, while all buildings were two-story high brick structures once rented out for bars and restaurants. If anyone was on the rooftops and a halfway decent shot, they could pick me off at their leisure.

I stayed in park at the far end of the street weighing my options for several minutes. Still no sign of activity, but that was hardly a guarantee nothing was lurking around. Driving up would paint me as a massive target while sneaking on foot might get the truck looted from me.

I could also cut my losses and go back with what I got. There were a lot of people locked up in homes that could benefit from that alone.

One of the things I have been criticized about in the past was my perfectionism. That wasn’t going to change because my life was on the line, apparently.

This was a quick in-and-out operation. I sped up to the wreck and got the truck bed as close to the crate as possible. No one opened fire, so I parked it and leaped out for loading duty.

I only got halfway there when a flash got my attention. I dove flat on the street and fumbled the rifle into my arms while checking for sniper positions. Was it the glass off of a scope? The muzzle flash of a gun firing?

Turned out I had been startled by the emergency bumper light of a vehicle. It was only one headlight though. The rest was buried under the gas stations collapsed canopy.

What kept my attention was the fact even partially concealed, I could tell this was no ordinary car. It was a solid square shape shining with black reinforced steel to rival bank trucks. Excellent odds I just found another discarded swat van.

A few spruced up weapons was worth a quick look. At least the rubble would give me cover from anyone watching.

The back doors were surprisingly easy to pick with a tubular lock pick. Sadly, the inside did not contain an armory of bulletproof uniforms, firearms, and a welcoming fanfare of accomplishment. There was only broken monitors on shelves, chairs in several pieces, and a significant feeling of disappointment. I was turning to get back to the real prize when my eyes noted something else.

Just barely visible was a footlocker and mini fridge under the remains of an overturned table. From what I could see of the footlocker, there was a logo resembling a white unicorn’s head. With a sigh, I climbed into the van to move the table. It revealed more or less what I expected of the full logo; a carousel unicorn with the word ‘Boutique’ painted to decorative flower prints over it.

Okay, I had no idea WHY America’s leading company in beauty products and biological body modifications had an armored truck crashed this far in suburbia. All I knew was that if MSB wanted something hard enough that a tank gun might have problems punching through, it must be pretty damned important. I shouldered my rifle to drag the footlocker back to my ‘borrowed’ truck.

Loading it in brought my attention back to the unopened crate of army supplies still crunched in some cars hood. Yet there was no sign of any other living thing on this street. I could not help cracking it open if only to gauge the risk of loading more supplies. Inside were dozens of little bundles. Each had the makings of a basic care package for one person.

Getting them in the truck was minutes of no effort at all. But then I really had to stop and think about that mini fridge. MSB brand mutagen was about the exact opposite of what that crazy girl took yesterday. There could be all manner of chemicals in there that could make me go from flab to super soldier. More importantly, there might even be antidotes to mutations. I remember reading how state law required that to be present for any modification purchase. If only more of the cure were around to deal with the mutants.

I did the stupid thing and ran back to check it out. Stupid because halfway climbing inside a loud bang rang throughout the street. Something impacted me hard in the left thigh, and I toppled head first into the back door before collapsing inside the truck.

The shot came just short of striking my kneecap off. I saw a hole was blown through my upper shin, fragments of bone and blood stained the bumper in an explosive spread. Adrenaline took over from there. I was pedaling madly to climb into the truck. Another shot pinged off the bumper missing my foot. I managed to get the door shut again before a third shot struck the glass. To its credit, there was only a minor crack around where the bullet embedded itself through the half-inch thick pane.

I am so fucking stupid. Those damn vultures let me do all the heavy loading for them. One by one the doors of surrounding buildings opened. Out of which piled at least a dozen jerk offs in masks hooting and hollering like they just won some hockey game.

“You dead in there, you little monkey?” Said the guy in a red clown mask. At least I think he was talking. Hard to tell through the pain.

“Thanks for collecting all the cool shit,” chimed a girl’s voice. "Toss out anything else of value, and we might just leave you to die in peace."

I was a bit busy trying to clamp down my wound to dignify a response. It finally registered in my mind that there was now a hole punched in my thigh the size of a penny. And it was getting a bit messy with all the blood rapidly seeping out of it. My eyes drifted back to the doors hearing those thugs shouting more profane insults. That was background noise compared to the sight of a small medical box welded inside of the cabin.

A box that contained plasters, eyewash, burn cream, and a half-used roll of gauze. Not the saving grace I would have preferred in this situation. I may not be a medic, but I knew that unlike shooters a wrapping of gauze only slowed the blood loss. I was reasonably sure that was not going to stop on its own with this garbage.

Explosions from outside rang out in rapid succession. Harsh poundings from all across the doors caused me to dive back in a startled cry. The armor plating of my current shell was not an exaggeration, thankfully. A hail of bullets caused several dents in the metal but failed to make even one puncture.

“Guss! What the flying fuck you doing!?” screamed another woman's voice. Several other bandits echoed her surprise and anger.

“What? You wanna wait around for that guy to die?” Guess could be heard over the clanking of what I could tell was reloading a clip. “It ain’t going to be as easy getting this stuff home when other raiders come along. Or how about those fleshy freaks with claws? Wanna party with them?”

“Then let’s just leave him, for fuck's sake.”

“Now you’re the one who’s fuckin’ crazy. That’s a Boutique brand truck. That means thousands worth of pure mutagen perks just sitting in there.”

“Well then, go get it. Just standing here shooting bulletproof armor isn’t what I’d call progress.”

“Fuck that. You saw the piece that guy was carrying? I ain’t getting close unless he’s dead.”

“Seriously, Gus? You are such a pussy!”

“Says the girl with tits smaller than Steve’s.”

They fell into arguing amongst themselves at this point. I was okay with that at the moment, as Guss had pointed out something vital about my shelter. Crawling over to the mini-fridge, I stayed low out of window sight to work at its latch. There had actually been a lot of damage to this thing despite not appearing to have been opened. A padlock hung loosely on one hinge with several deep indentations across its thick base. It looked like something had been chewing on it.

I wrenched open the fridge not wanting to dwell on that implication. Greeting me was an outpouring of glass and sludge across the metal floor. A quick roll just barely got me away before too much could get on me. Mutagen was generally useless on skin contact, but I had my open wound to consider.

There was really no way of telling what such a mixture would end up doing to me. I am no doctor but knowing my luck so far, I would transform into some mutated centaur. Or maybe I could just end up as a harpy with a beard. Might be a slight upgrade to the alternative of eating raw flesh off the streets. It was still a significant alternative to being dead.

And then I saw it; as the rainbow-colored muck dripped out of the fridge, a black plastic box became visible in the back. Carefully leaning in over my spill, I managed to yank it out of the refrigerator without slicing open any fingers. It had a small plastic window allowing me to see the inside was kept safe with foam cushions. The perfect bed for an epi-pen and small vial of glowing purple mutagen. The small plaque underneath marked this as 'Project Belmont,' whatever that meant.

Maybe someone at Carousel liked Castlevania. I could hardly object if this grape fluid turned me into some beefy vampire hunter.

Something suddenly flicked across my light. Turning only made my heart sink at seeing a mask peering in through the glass.

"Hey! This fucker is breaking our mutagen!!"

He tried for the handle, but then saw me roll onto my back with rifle leveled at his face. Granted the shot was stopped by the window glass but it sure got him running fast.

"That cheeky ass! Waste this guy!"

I dived flat on the floor, cursing at myself for not considering the assault of bullets that resumed on my hiding spot. Bullets struck the car's metal lining from all directions this time in rapid plinking sounds. Windshields began to shatter after only being able to take a few dozen shots, making the lewd catcalls of the gang outside even more prominent over their sprays.

After almost a full minute the last shot fired off into a brief silence. The gang outside seemed heavily winded as I soon heard the ejecting of mags for new rounds. Beams of light were shining in through several tears in the metal bullets had finally dug through the thick armor's defenses.

One look and I knew this van was not about to survive another assault, much less me. I brought my rifle up to bear at the doors readying for the end. At least there would be less of them taking advantage of innocent people’s supplies after this.

"Alright, dude. Why don't you just come on out and we can...wait, what is that? OH FUCK ME!"

My brain needed a moment to understand that was not how the thug intended to end his threat. Several panicked screams followed wild gunfire that did not seem directed at me anymore. It was soon joined in by the scraping of nails on concrete and wild, vicious snarls that clued me into what sent them into such a panic.

Using my rifle for a brace, I carefully made it to the shattered windows for a glance outside. Mutants rained down upon these poor fools in a wave of leathery flesh and teeth. After all that noise, they must have been eager for fresh meat.

I would question for years to come if what I did next was really badass or just another string of stupid decisions. Soon as the ensuing chaos cleared a path to my truck, I pushed those doors open in a mad dash for the front seat. The box of mutagen held tight to my throbbing heart while one hand tried to wave the rifle barrel at any potential targets.

It was like one of those movies where things slowed down so the brain can take in every event of carnage with appalling interest. Some mutants were busy tearing into flailing bodies of thugs. Small groups of thugs got smart enough to concentrate fire on charging mutants. No matter how 'bulletproof' a body is, a few dozen rounds of buckshot could give even a rhino pause for thought.

Somehow, I managed to get to the truck without registering on either side’s radar. However, there must have been something about the click of opening the driver door that sent a signal to someone. No sooner had I tossed my gun and box on the passenger seat than a grueling blow struck my bandaged leg.

I collapsed onto the footstep of the truck trying not to cry out from a rush of newfound pain. Looking over my shoulder, I could see a woman in leather hoisting up the bat she used to strike me with. The Japanese ceramic mask she had been using was shattered to near uselessness, allowing me to see the fear in her eyes.

"G-get out of the way, you piece of shit! If anyone's getting out of here alive, it's going to be...ahh..."

Two sets of long claws gently clamped down on either side of her head, making the girls last words a pathetic whimper. Our eyes remained focus on each other, locked in stupefied horror. And then she was gone; thrown several yards down the street to be pounced on by two mutants before ever touching the pavement.

The mutant that had tossed her whipped its head back to me. My stomach fought the urge to vomit. It's insect shaped head cocked to one side, blinking two sets of eyelids in contemplation at my state. Before it could even set one gnarled foreleg towards me the girl’s shrieks carried over to regain its attention. It bounded off to the others tearing limbs off at the sockets without further regard for me.

I was not about to question that. Forcing what blood I had left in me to pump my muscles, I clambered into the truck. Part of me really contemplated firing a shot into them, if only to put those bloody wails out of their misery.

I guess it’s kind of hypocritical to say this given that I was just ready to wipe a few bandits out to help the more innocent population here. The girl could have just hopped in the truck’s bed if she had asked. None of us had to be dying like this.

***

Thank god I had left the truck running. Sounds of the motor jumping would have drawn all unwanted attention back to me. Before anyone present realized what was happening, I had already shifted to drive and gunned the old pickup down the road. Said road was starting to get a bit hazy around the edges, but I managed to get home before crashing through Jackson's mailbox.

Far as I could tell everyone had been too busy killing each other to bother giving chase. Hopefully, that was the case, as I almost collapsed just trying to climb out onto solid ground. My wounded leg could no longer support any weight, nor could I wiggle any toes. That blow from the bat caused fresh blood to trickle down my shin. My gauze wrapping became so soaked you might have thought it had always been colored red.

With a defeated sigh I grabbed the mutagen case off the floor. I had no strength to shimmy anything else over my ladder bridge. Odds were good I was not coming back out for anything.

I knew nothing about clamping blood veins. I could look up making a tourniquet, but I was fading fast and not really in any mental state to retain knowledge. It felt like I needed to pull every individual thought from a tar pit as it is. There were no medical supplies within easy reach, they were all locked up. Pretty much only one workable option left for me. Not that I was really counting on it after an hour of bleeding.

Somehow I managed to plop into my chair. Getting the computer to boot up took a few thumps, as my finger kept missing the button. It did not take long before everything came out of sleep mode. My youtube stream reconnected after eventually finding the internet signal.

Almost immediately the chat room exploded with expressions of alarm, concern, and the occasional snide comment from one soulless troll. I could tell why. My face was visible in the recording feed looking one foot in the grave. Honestly, I did not feel as bad as I looked, just cold.

"Y-yeah...yeah I know. I look like shit. Long story short...raiders shot my leg, then a pack of mutants got the raiders. Guess I was lucky enough they were too busy killing each other to finish me off. Too bad I don't know anything about medical surgery. I...I actually started to think I was going to last through this for you guys, damn it." I was starting to slide out of my chair, so pulled myself back up. Forcing a sly grin, I slowly raised the case for the camera. The golden plaque of 'Project Belmont' shinned into focus. "But I'm not going out without a fight, don't worry."

The chat was going nuts at realizing what the glowing bit of serum shining through meant. I would have almost been amused, but really I was just tired.

"Yeah, it's what most of you are guessing. I found an MS boutique truck crashed into a gas station. Most of their fancy mutagen got smashed in the accident, but as you can see this little number got extra protected. Honestly, I have no idea what it'll even do. I guess it's better than dying right?"

A curse escaped me while almost sliding out of my chair again. No time left to think of a touching final send off. I absently wondered if I was even speaking as coherently as I imagined right now.

Luckily the bottle of mutagen was designed to load right into the syringe chamber. A quick press against the arm and I barely felt when the needle pierced through my skin. Good thing, because I really hate needles. Took a few seconds but the thing managed to pump most of the glowy stuff into my bloodstream.

"W-well, I'm not going to let the reaper claim his bounty today. D-don't care if...if I wake up something non-human tomorrow. At least we know it's quality stuff messing me up. With any luck, I'll see you all again for a better tomorrow. Peace!"

I hobbled onto my feet nearly collapsing on the keyboard in the process. One hand blindly fumbled for the mouse, clicking at near random to try and end the stream. At the very least I did not want to die in front of a live audience.

No idea what I ended up clicking. My motor skills were fading fast, but it looked like the shutdown button. Could be the mutagen already taking effect or just the lack of blood. Did not really matter as I used the last ounce of my strength to get to my bed. Soon, there was nothing left but tepid darkness.

Next thing I knew I was standing again. My eyes blinked at their new surroundings, slowly brushing off a blurry fog. I still felt cold, just not in that 'I'm slowly dying' kind of way. That was a good sign, I guess. Slowly my brain began to take stock of where I was.

The more I saw, the less sense everything made. It was night time. I was standing on a stone laid path in a very fancy yard. Behind me sat a fountain twelve feet high, it's three bowls cracked dry from lack of water, yet somehow overrun with weeds. Beyond that was an iron-clad gate padlocked to prevent an undue departure. A stone wall towered as high as the dead forests on either side of the path. Not a single bit of green to be seen on tree or hedge as they created a very rough barricade limiting my options of travel in one direction.

That direction being the stone castle looming higher than some skyscrapers just a few feet before me. Somehow it's smoothed structure reflected off the light of a full moon to give it a rather captivating allure. I’m not sure if that was why I felt compelled to approach the polished mahogany doors. Despite looking everything straight out of horror movie tropes, my mind refused to think through my actions.

The doors opened silently in time to my approach. My footsteps were not making an echo either, even after I passed through into a grand marble hall. Torches occupied dozens of notches in the wall making it easier to walk down a welcoming red carpet.

The path led me past many large dining tables, each set to accommodate ten people. Yet I looked around to find no one present. Not even a body for the doors. They just creepily closed by themselves.

A breeze tickled my ear, causing me to whirl to my right. Aside from some curtains fluttering I spotted little out of the ordinary. Not that I felt any of this was ordinary.

Before I could relax there came a strange clicking noise. It approached me from all along the walls only to pass by and fade into the depths of the castle. If I had not thought better, I almost thought it sounded like someone was giggling.

Still, I continued on the red carpet into a smaller hall. This room was more empty with the intent of receiving standing audiences for the thrones at the far end.

Three thrones specifically, but my focus locked immediately on the taller middle seat. Resting on a soft velvet cushion sat a golden tiara. It's sizeable purple jewel resting as it's eye shined with light much like the mutagen I had taken.

I licked my lips just getting close to such a gorgeous piece of treasure. Kneeling before the throne, my arms weighed heavily, almost making me content to just admire its glittering beauty. But I still had to hold it. After a few deliberations, I managed to raise my hands to grasp it.

Another strange breeze sent a shiver down my back. This time I let out a little squeak noticing a large shadow had blocked out much of the firelight behind me. Before I could move something large pushed into me from behind. It almost felt like two somethings actually; very pliable soft as pillows against my skull.

That was not nearly as startling as the brown-furred hands wrapping around my shoulders. Their manicured claws glinted signs of nail polish and looking very sharp. Large membrane wings that grew from their arms draped over my neck and shoulders like a cloak. I thought for sure this was the end. My throat would be torn out in one swift yank by a mutant.

I needed a second to realize that wasn’t going to happen. In fact, the hands continued passed my throat to overlap in a gentle hug around my chest. Gentle feminine coes tickled at the back of my ears as something began to alternate rubbing down the sides of my cheeks. Once a pink-hooked nose atop a narrowed muzzle passed into my peripheral vision did I realize this thing was giving me affectionate nuzzles.

"About time the human got here. You were starting to make your queen lonely."

Okay. The mutant was giving me animal kisses and singing a very sexy voice in my ear between passes. This was a welcome change from the face eating. I almost felt ready to relax for the first time in…forever.

Such feelings of peace lasted precisely three seconds when she released her hug to grip hard into my shoulders. With strength beyond my capacity to resist she hefted me up onto my feet and whirled me around so we could meet face to face.

Or face to boobs, as ended up being the case. This woman loomed a foot taller than me, leaving my nose only inches from a pair of mammaries that swelled slightly with each breath she took. Like any internet introvert, I have seen my fair share of ridiculously large breasts. All I can say is they did not compare to the real thing, even for ones covered in brown fur. A thick collar of dense ruff did nothing to hide the cleavage her bright red dress made trying to squeeze those puppies into its tight space.

One of her delicate fingers reached down to help close my gaping jaw. Pushing a little harder she helped guide my gaze further up to take in her adorable animal face. At first, I thought she might have been some kind of cat with her golden slit eyes. But then I recognized the telltale ears and hooked nose of a bat. That made more sense with the impressive wingspan growing out of her arms.

She cocked her head with a warm smile that sent me melting. Between those enormously pointed ears was a scruffy tomboy cut black hair. It contrasted rather strangely to her regal style of dress, but that made me more enamored by her.

"I can tell you approve," she said with a voice of angels. She leaned in to give me a little kiss on the forehead. That pink nose was cold and wet, making me shiver slightly. "How about we break those hormones in with a dance?"

"What...?"

That was all I could get out. Wings draped around me as she hugged my waist and grabbed my right hand respectively. Despite my best efforts, my feet tripped over each other when I got forcefully pulled into the beginnings of a waltz. Luckily her chest was more than enough to support my fall. My added weight seemed to do nothing to affect the grace of her elegant steps.

She did slow down to let me find my footing but continued her aggressive leading around the throne room. I followed along best I could, having never waltzed before. It did not help she kept bumping her curved hips against mine with each swing. She might have been making it a game to try getting my face to fall into her glorious chest.

A game I was consistently losing, admittedly on purpose. This was probably my best experience since discovering memory foam pillows. The pervy child in me could not help trying to play along by craning my neck to stay focused on her pointed nose.

The more we danced, the more I started to get into her childishly sexual teasings. Something about her warmth, the way she sang in animal chitters, everything just made me feel right. There was no more pain in my leg. Hell, I doubt there was even a scar. I felt better than before the whole outbreak began. It was impossible not to indulge in this chance to finally vent some steam.

"So you got a name, short stuff?" she said after an eternity of waltzing.

"Y...Yannick." That was really all I could get out. My mouth was feeling a bit off in a way I could not tell. It almost felt like my tongue had fallen out trying to speak. Like it had suddenly become longer than my jaw. That sensation quickly left me with a strange popping feeling behind my nose. Looking down nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Not even drool on my face.

My lady friend seemed oblivious to my confusion as she giggled and ran a hand through my shaggy hair. Odd, I had shaved my hair almost bald a few days ago. Her delicate touch caused my ears to twitch despite not being close to the sides of my head.

"Oh my gosh, you even sound as cute as you look. How about me? You like what you see?"

She had taken a step back with a pose for emphasis, although her hands never left my body. Even so, I could still scan her up with little difficulty. She had a rocking figure to match those breasts; wide child-bearing hips, thick silky thighs, and a luxurious coat of fur. There were minimal signs of muscle structure though. She had a modestly toned stomach, and I could see biceps bulge a bit when she moved. But I could tell by how I was handled that she was strong enough to fold me seven times.

My crotch tingled intensely just soaking in every bit of elongated paw toes to adorable eyes. Something in the back of my mind found that a bit off too. I was not feeling that general throbbing hardness of arousal. If anything my special member felt tickling in on itself, spreading deep inside my hips. All I could get from the outside was an increasing sense of wetness.

I lost that train of thought when she chirped softly to regain my attention. "Y-yeah of course! You are both cute as a button and sexy as hell."

“Wow, both at once? Coarseness aside, you really are sweet.” Her grin opened up into a jaw full of sharp teeth. From inside unrolled a tongue so long its tip dipped right into the tight space of her cleavage.

She gave me just enough time to recoil at its sudden appearance before the tip curled up to lick across my face. God damn, that thing was long now that I can look at it. More surprising was how comforting it felt. I had the strangest of tickling sensations as her wet muscle combed over my face.

“You taste equally sweet.” She continued to pop her tongue in and out, teasing me with a bap in random spots. I was starting to get the vibe that she was some bored kid taunting just for the sheer joy of causing confusion. She was very good at it.

“Are...uh...you going to eat me?”

The way she stopped all motion to stare at me told bounds how ridiculous such a question must have been. Not that she helped quell my embarrassment by breaking into howls of laughter. I ended up having to be the one to support her for a bit when the hysterics knocked her off her paws.

Strange she was not as heavy as a tall bat woman looked. I barely strained against her weight at all. The boobs jostling in my face were more of a mixed blessing though.

“Oh..! Oh my god, that’s too rich,” she said after eventually calming down. I don’t know why but even hearing her laugh sent waves of peace across my soul. Getting mad at such a creature was tough. “Of course I'm not going to eat you silly. Haven't you ever had banter with a lady before?”

“Uh...well…”

“... Oh dear. That does explain a lot.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” she regained her footing but continued leaning the bulk of her chest against me. How the hell did she fit into that dress? “You are just way too much fun. I wish we could play forever.”

I blinked before looking up into those longing golden eyes. I had almost missed her words on my daze.

“You… We're going somewhere else?”

“Sort of. In a way, I'm a part of you now, but we shan't meet like this again, I don’t think.”

“That answer makes even less sense!”

“Oh, it will come in a bit, sweetie.” Her smile grew wide, teeth and eyes seeming to glow in the light of the torches around us. “You just have to do something for me first.”

I gulped. “W-what’s that?”

She hugged my neck tightly, bringing her muzzle down to breath into my ear. “Wake up.”