Resident Evil: The Dead Must Breed (Zombie/Monster Evolutions Fanfic)

Chapter 32: 32: Compromising Deals I

A/N: Good news for me, perhaps for thee, the laptop apparently turned on atleast. Was supposed to get it today but tech support says he needs to test charging and keyboard so would take until tomorrow noon.

Guy asked for password to check the keyboard o_O) sus af boi, sus af.

But whatever, just gimme back my baby (>.<)

And since I updated 3 Chapters in one go on patreon, I am free from

___

[A few moments later]

We spent the next hour doing what every self-respecting survival horror protagonist does best: wandering aimlessly through a spooky mansion and collecting random ornamental garbage.

Finding the marble Statue of Good and the obsidian Statue of Evil was a total breeze. I already knew exactly where they were hiding, so I simply nudged Rebecca in the right direction and barked at the appropriate pieces of antique furniture.

The major downside to this scavenger hunt was Rebecca completely leaning into treating me like a heavily armored pack mule. She unceremoniously stuffed every heavy artifact, spare box of ammo, and random shiny trinket we found right into the makeshift canvas bags strapped over my chitin plates.

I was a highly evolved, apex predator bioweapon with the ability to assimilate genetic code. And this eighteen-year-old medic was treating me like a goddamn U-Haul.

I spent half the trip grumbling internally, promising myself I would exact a thorough, incredibly perverted revenge on her later. But my annoyance evaporated every single time I looked forward.

Half of her right pant leg was still completely missing.

Every single step she took sent a glorious, mesmerizing ripple through the exposed, pale flesh of her right inner thigh. The frayed edges of her shredded military canvas framed her bare skin like a filthy masterpiece, giving me a perfect view of the black uniform panties hugging her ass cheeks. It was absolute torture, and I loved every second of it.

We eventually made our way back to the grand entrance hall of the Umbrella Training Facility. The massive portrait of James Marcus still loomed heavily over the central staircase, staring down at us with arrogant, painted eyes. Directly beneath the painting stood the massive, ornate golden scale of justice.

Rebecca marched right up to the strange architectural centerpiece. Without a single moment of hesitation, she pulled the heavy obsidian Statue of Evil out of my saddlebags and slammed it onto the left weighing pan.

The heavy metal instantly crashed downward, throwing the entire mechanism completely out of balance.

She then grabbed the marble Statue of Good and plopped it onto the right pan.

I watched her work with a profound sense of awe. I had played the games, so I obviously knew the puzzle solution. But how the hell did she figure it out?

Real life didn’t have glowing interaction markers hovering over important items. There was no UI prompt telling her to press ’F’ to balance the scales. She just looked at a random piece of abstract lobby art and instantly deduced that she needed to weigh two highly specific demonic paperweights against each other.

I chalked it up to Resident Evil protagonists just being fundamentally wired differently. They probably saw the entire world in fetch quests and inventory slots.

The two pans slowly leveled out, bobbing gently before locking into perfect, equal equilibrium.

A loud, heavy mechanical clank echoed through the massive hall.

The enormous portrait of James Marcus violently shuddered. Dust rained down from the ceiling as the heavy painting mechanically slid completely to the right, disappearing into a recessed groove in the wall.

Behind the painting was a dark, narrow corridor leading to a set of heavy concrete stairs descending directly into the bowels of the facility.

The air wafting up from the hidden basement was incredibly dense. It smelled like rusted iron, stagnant sewer water, and heavily mutated insect pheromones. My enhanced canine nose flared, picking up the distinctly acrid, chemical scent of highly corrosive venom and dusty webbing.

My meta-knowledge of the game’s route easily filled in the blanks about what was waiting for us down in those lower levels.

Giant Spiders.

They were essentially the size of aggressive, hairy beanbags covered in toxic bristles, and they absolutely loved to spit acid.

Rebecca stared down into the pitch-black stairwell, the barrel of her shotgun resting heavily against her hip. The confident, puzzle-solving momentum she had built up completely evaporated, replaced by a tense, professional wariness.

"Well," she whispered, pulling a tactical flashlight from her vest and clicking it on. The narrow beam cut through the darkness, illuminating heavy concrete walls covered in thick layers of bizarre, web-like resin. "That doesn’t look like a standard pharmaceutical basement."

I let out a low, continuous rumble from my chest cavity, flaring my thick chitin plates outward in preparation for a very messy brawl.

Rebecca took a deep breath, adjusting her grip on the shotgun.

"Ladies first," she muttered, stepping toward the threshold to begin her descent into the dark.

I completely rejected her tactical assessment.

I aggressively nudged past her legs, shoving my bulky armored frame directly in front of her to block her path.

The venom those eight-legged freaks spat was composed of gods know what. My chitin armor could maybe tank the spit. but her exposed, incredibly lickable thigh could get absolutely roasted if she took point.

"Hey, watch it," she complained, stumbling back a step.

I just let out a sharp bark and began marching down the concrete steps into the darkness, taking the vanguard position. I was deeply annoyed to be sacrificing the premium view of her bare ass, but keeping my favorite medic alive and un-melted definitely took priority.

---

Thick, ropy strands of white biological resin coated the walls and floor grates, looking exactly like cheap Halloween decorations, except these were secreted by actual prehistoric nightmares.

No, these spiders weren’t spewing jizz in the basement. I could tell, being somewhat of an jizz expert myself.

Through my night vision in this dog form was absolute ass. I was basically running on my nose and ears, trying to navigate the oppressive darkness.

A low, rumbling growl vibrated in my chest when I smelt something wrong in the air.

Smells like...8 legs

"What is it?" Rebecca whispered, immediately raising her shotgun and clicking on her under-barrel flashlight.

The narrow beam of light swept up the concrete wall and illuminated the ceiling.

A cluster of eight massive, unblinking black eyes stared back at us, surrounded by thick, bristly hair and a pair of mandibles dripping with bubbling green venom.

Giant Spiders

"Oh, you have got to be—" she started.

The spiders didn’t wait for her to finish that sentence.

The closest one detached from the ceiling, dropping its massive bulk directly toward the floor with a terrifying, wet thud.

I didn’t give it a second to orient itself.

I launched my two-hundred-pound armored ass off the concrete, crossing the distance in a single, explosive bound. I collided squarely with the overgrown arachnid, my heavy claws tearing right through the bristly hairs of its cephalothorax.

I know science bitches! took one class(failed) in community college yeehaw!

The creature shrieked with a high-pitched, grinding sound of clicking mandibles, and thrashed its front legs, trying to impale me with its barbed spikes.

The fuck you will.

While I was busy trying to rip its face off, a second spider dropped silently behind my unaware ass.

When another spider tried to flank me, scuttling rapidly along the wall to get behind my position, my muscles were alerted and through I pivoted to meet it, I completely underestimated its speed.

It lunged, not at my armored front, but at my exposed, furry ass.

A searing, white-hot pain shot through my left butt cheek as its fangs sank deep into the muscle.

The motherfucker bit me.

On the ass.

Wait a minute. I’m the one who gives the backshots around here!

A surge of pure, indignant rage flooded my brain. I clamped my jaws down on the first spider’s eye cluster with every ounce of hydraulic pressure my mutated muscles could generate. The thick carapace cracked like a rotten egg, and viscous green fluid exploded into my mouth. I twisted my neck violently, ripping the front half of its face clean off.

I spun around, my scorpion tail whipping over my head with terrifying speed. I drove the wickedly curved, purple-dripping stinger directly into the soft, bloated underside of the second spider’s abdomen.

I pumped a massive dose of my liquefying venom straight into its internal organs.

The spider instantly spasmed, its eight legs curling inward as its insides rapidly turned into hot soup.

Another motherfucking spider tried to flank, scuttling rapidly along the wall to get behind me.

"Fucking Umbrella and their goddamn pet projects!" Rebecca snarled, her voice tight with a mixture of fear and pure, unfiltered rage.

She sidestepped a glob of acidic venom that sizzled against the concrete where she’d been standing, her movements surprisingly agile. She pumped the action on her shotgun and squeezed the trigger.

Damn, girl’s got moves.

The heavy spray of buckshot slammed into the spider’s side, completely severing two of its legs and blowing a massive, gaping hole in its carapace.

But unlike my encounters, this creature didn’t die quietly.

No, it went off as if on a personal mission under Bin Laden.

Its ruptured abdomen convulsed violently. Instead of venom, it ejected a massive cloud of tiny, needle-sharp bristles. Hundreds of them. They exploded outward like a biological fragmentation grenade, filling the narrow corridor with a dense, swirling cloud of dark, barbed hairs.

Oh shit. I definitely do not remember them doing that in the game.

I had my chitin armor. The bristles pinged harmlessly off my plated hide like hail off a car hood.

Rebecca did not have chitin armor.

The bristle cloud hit her legs and midsection. A particularly dense cluster of the dark, barbed hairs embedded themselves directly into the soft, pale skin of her upper thigh, right where my teeth had so graciously ventilated her pants. Several even peppered across the tight black elastic of her uniform panties.

Talk about fucking coincidence.

"Gah! What the—" She frantically swatted at her legs, her free hand brushing uselessly against the bristly hairs now protruding from her skin like tiny dark cactus needles.

I quickly finished the third spider, lunging forward and crushing its skull beneath my heavy front paws.

[Targets Eliminated. +120 Evolution Points.]

[New Biomass Template Unlocked: Giant Spider-Black Tiger Variant (Uncommon). Available in Evolution Shop.]

I deployed my black tendrils, rapidly vacuuming the liquefied green viscera and remaining meat directly into my biological reserves. The sheer volume of raw biomass flooded my system, topping my cellular integrity off and leaving me feeling absolutely invigorated.

I pulled the tendrils back into my skin, gave a satisfied shake of my armored frame, and let out a massive, echoing burp.

Tasted like crab. Rotten ones.

Before I checked on my medic, I quickly pulled up the Evolution Shop, checking the mutations assosiated with the spider template, hoping to find more info about this bristles attack.

Lo and behold, there was an entry for it.

[Mutation: Irritant Bristle Ejection - 75 EP]

[Description: A defensive biological mechanism. Allows the host to violently expel a cloud of microscopic, barbed hairs from their abdomen. The bristles are non-venomous but are a highly effective rapid-acting skin irritant designed to cause extreme itching and discomfort upon contact.]

A wave of relief washed over me. It wasn’t poisonous, just intensely, agonizingly itchy. Now should I go find those green herbs to treat it? Wait, would the progenitor panacea work on this two?

Hey, System, does my super-fluids fix itching?

A text box materialized in my vision.

[Notice: The Progenitor Panacea trait can neutralize mild chemical irritants and low-grade toxins through topical application. However, against high-potency biological agents, direct application of concentrated biological fluids to the affected area or via internal insemination is recommended for maximum efficacy.]

This fucking System. It could tell me I needed to go fuck a toaster to make toast and it would sound like a peer-reviewed scientific journal.

I closed the shop menu and finally turned to check on my medic.

Guess someone gonna get slathered tonight...again.

[To Be Gooned]

PS: Liked the ideas people dropped in comments about the mysterious form.

That aside, as always, read advanced Chapters at patreon and support the gooning of the author, for a better, whiter future :)

link: patreon.com/HornyShitler

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