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

Chapter 50: Chapter 50: Fly Away

A/N: So due to new semester start, I am having a bit less time to write which have kinda dwindled the advanced Chapter supply so Chapters updates are being a bit erratic these days(like 1 day gaps between updates). Might continue like that for a week or two. Will try to do it daily but can’t promise rn

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Rebecca sat on the cold Umbrella pressure plate, her face still burning a bright crimson as she aggressively hugged her knees to her chest.

Who does that scaly bastard think he is?!

She rubbed her lower lip with the back of her hand, trying and failing to erase the lingering memory of his thick, musky tongue invading her mouth. She should have bitten him. She should have clamped her jaw down and torn a chunk off his lipless snout the second he pinned her. He was an ugly, green, scaly monster, and she was a S.T.A.R.S. officer, not some helpless damsel to be French-kissed into submission and left on the floor like a glorified doorstop.

"Hmph," she huffed, pulling her cowboy hat down further over her eyes to hide her flush. "If he thinks I’m letting him get away with that, he’s insane. The second he comes back out, I’m shooting him right in his stupid lizard tail."

CRASH!

A loud, violent shudder rattled the chapel doors behind her, instantly shattering her internal rant.

Rebecca tensed, her hand flying to the grip of her pump-action shotgun. Her immediate, knee-jerk reaction was to spring to her feet and rush inside to back him up.

She flexed her legs, ready to launch off the floor, but froze mid-motion.

Wait. The tile.

If she stood up, the weight plate would reset. The heavy metal doors would slam shut, locking him inside and completely cutting off any chance she had of reaching him. Not to mention, she would even close the possibly only path out of the church in case he needed to get out.

"Dammit..." she gritted her teeth, settling back onto the tile with a heavy, frustrated thud.

From inside the cathedral came a deafening, glass-shattering screech that made her ears ring even through the heavy doors. It sounded like a giant, rabid animal tearing its way through a metal grater.

Then came the chaos.

SPLINTER! CRASH! BANG!

The heavy sounds of solid oak pews detonating, stone pillars cracking, and wet, heavy impacts echoed out through the courtyard. Rebecca squeezed the grip of her shotgun so hard her knuckles turned stark white.

He better not die in there, she prayed, her heart hammering against her ribs. If some subterranean monster kills him before I get to shoot him for kissing me, I am going to be so furious.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the carnage stopped.

Silence settled over the courtyard.

"Ghosty?" she called out softly, her voice barely a whisper in the cold mountain air.

Her breathing accelerated as she waited, the silence stretching out for agonizing seconds. She shifted her weight, her fingers nervously sliding along the pump-action handle of her 12-gauge

She looked down, her brow furrowing under her hat. Deep finger indentations were set right into the dark composite material where her hands rested.

Huh. Were those always there? Weird, I don’t remember this having custom finger grooves.

She ran her thumb over the smooth indentations, casually dismissing it as just something she hadn’t noticed before.

Before she could think about it any further, a massive shadow eclipsed the moonlight directly above her.

THUD.

Something massive dropped out of the sky, slamming onto the cobblestones just five feet in front of her. The sheer impact stirred up a thick, blinding cloud of dust and pine needles that swept straight into her face.

"Cough! Cough!" Rebecca shielded her eyes with her forearm, waving her free hand to clear the air. "Ugh, what the..."

As the dust settled, she lowered her arm.

Her vision cleared, and her breath caught in her throat.

Standing directly in front of her was a ginormous, nightmare-inducing beast. It stood easily over seven feet tall, its hulking frame dwarfing her completely. Thick, dark fur covered its massive torso, and two colossal, leathery wings folded against its sides, spanning wide enough to cover a small truck. It looked like an infected, roided-out bat straight from the depths of hell, its tiny red eyes staring down at her.

Rebecca’s mind blanked as she stared up at the massive flying rat.

"What the fuck...?"

Rebecca’s hands trembled against the stock of her 12-gauge, her knuckles turning chalk-white as she aimed the barrel straight at the beast’s fuzzy snout.

Oh god. Oh god. Where did this thing come from?! Did it eat him?! Did it drop down from the ceiling and rip Ghosty to shreds while I was sitting here like a helpless idiot?!

Panic surged through her veins, her pulse racing in her ears. The creature stood there, hovering over her like a dark, furry mountain. Its leathery wings twitched, casting a long, terrifying shadow over her denim hot pants and bare legs. Her mind raced through every tactical scenario taught at the S.T.A.R.S. academy, but not a single manual prepared her for a seven-foot-tall, furry flying rat.

"S-Stay back!" she stammered, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to sound authoritative. "I swear to god, I’ll blow your head off!"

The giant bat didn’t attack. It didn’t screech, it didn’t flex its claws, and it certainly didn’t try to bite her head off. Instead, it just stood there, cocking its massive, furry head to the side in a disturbingly familiar, dopey gesture.

Rebecca’s eyes darted down its body, looking for a weak spot to target—and froze.

Tied securely around the creature’s thick, muscular left thigh was a crude, heavy canvas pack, held in place by bright red velvet curtain cords tied in a precise double knot.

Rebecca blinked. She stared at the velvet cords.

Wait a minute. I tied those cords. That’s... that’s the makeshift pack I made back in the training facility.

Her eyes slowly trailed upward, moving past the canvas bag and settling directly on the creature’s lower abdomen.

Her mind completely blue-screened.

Hanging prominently between its thick, furry thighs was a ginormous, absurdly massive monster-schmeat. It was easily more than fourteen inches long, thick as a telephone pole, completely hairless, and ending in a heavy, blunt, mushroom-shaped tip that twitched softly in the cool night air. Clear, glistening pre-cum leaked slowly from the tip, dripping onto the cobblestones.

Rebecca just stared. Her mouth hung open, her brain completely failing to process the visual information.

What... what am I looking at? Why is it so big?! Why does a bat have a blunt-tipped battering ram between its legs?!

She stood there in total, paralyzed silence for five full seconds, her eyes locked onto the massive, pulsing appendage.

And then, the final piece of the puzzle clicked together in her head.

Her mind settled, her heart rate slowly dropping from critical levels as a bizarre, utterly ridiculous realization washed over her.

Does any other motherfucking creature in this entire mountain range have a dick?!

She had fought giant leeches, giant centipedes, infected dogs, and skinless scythe-clawed lizards. Not a single one of Umbrella’s bio-weapons had reproductive organs on display. None of them walked around with a giant, throbbing, fourteen-inch bludgeon swinging between their legs.

Only one creature in the entire Arklay Mountains possessed that specific, horrifying, hyper-sexual biological trait.

Rebecca slowly lowered her shotgun, her arms dropping to her sides as she let out a long, exhausted, deeply exasperated breath.

"Ghosty...?" she asked tentatively, her tone a mix of disbelief and sheer mental fatigue.

The moment the name left her lips, the giant bat let out a series of high-pitched, incredibly happy, squeaky chuffs.

Its massive, leathery wings fluttered wildly, kicking up a gentle breeze that rustled her bandana, and its entire lower body wiggled like an overly excited golden retriever. It immediately dropped onto all fours, lowering its massive, furry snout straight down to her eye level.

Rebecca let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I can’t believe this," she muttered, taking a hesitant step forward. She extended her hand, her small, pale fingers sinking into the thick, soft dark fur at the top of his head. "What the hell happened inside that church?!"

Ghosty leaned into her palm, letting out a deep, purring rumble that vibrated through his entire chest.

"You literally just turned into a seven-foot dinosaur lizard!" she scolded, though her hands were already scratching the soft fur behind his large, pointed bat ears. "And now you’re a giant flying rat?! You are changing your whole body faster than I change clothes!"

Ghosty didn’t offer a verbal explanation—mostly because his vocal cords could only produce high-frequency squeaks and deep rumbles—but he certainly knew how to show affection.

He lunged forward softly, burying his massive, furry snout right into the crook of her neck. His thick, wet tongue snaked out, delivering a long, warm, sloppy lick right across her cheek and down her collarbone.

"Ah! Hey!" Rebecca squeiped, squirming in his grip as she tried to push his heavy head away. "Stawp it! That’s so tickly!"

His fur was surprisingly plush, completely unlike the cold, slimy scales of his Hunter form or the patchy, rotting hide of his Cerberus body. As she brought her hands up to push against his chest, her fingers sank deep into the thick, warm coat covering his torso.

At least this form is softer, she thought, her cheeks flushing as she involuntarily nuzzled into the warmth. And way less ugly than that terrifying lizard monster. He actually looks kind of... fluffy.

Her momentary appreciation for his soft fur was short-lived.

Ghosty let out a low, satisfied chuff and shifted his weight. His massive, leathery wings swept forward, folding completely around her back like a heavy, fleshy blanket, while his thick, furry arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He lifted her slightly off her feet, pulling her flush against his furnace-hot chest in an overwhelming, suffocating embrace.

"W-Whoa!" Rebecca gasped, her hands clinging to his shoulders for support. "Ghosty, wait! Too tight!"

He didn’t squeeze hard enough to break her ribs, but he held her with possessive, unyielding firmness. Trapped inside the cocoon of his wings, the cool mountain draft was completely cut off, replaced by his suffocatingly sweet, aphrodisiac-laced pheromones and the intense, radiant heat of his body.

And then she felt it.

Pressed directly against the denim fabric of her hot pants, right between her thighs, was that massive, fourteen-inch blunt-tipped monster.

Rebecca’s eyes went wide. The friction of that grinding straight against her denim hot pants sent a violent, betraying jolt of heat straight to her core.

"G-Ghosty!" she gasped, her hands frantically pushing against his soft, furry chest. Her face burned with absolute mortification. "S-Stop it! I’m serious, put me down!"

He shifted his weight, his heavy, throbbing shaft nudging ruthlessly against her soaking panties. Her thighs trembled, a quiet, involuntary whimper slipping past her lips as her body traitorously reacted to the intense, furnace-like heat.

"I-I can’t do this right now!" she pleaded, her voice dropping into a meek, desperate stammer. "My body... I literally can’t take any more! You already broke my pelvis earlier, if you try to put that... that battering ram inside me, I’m going to die!"

I can’t stop him, she thought, her heart hammering against her ribs as she braced herself for the worst. He’s a seven-foot flying rat with a fourteen-inch dick. If he decides to take me right here on the cobblestones, there is literally nothing I can do to fight it.

She closed her eyes, tensing her body for the sudden, overwhelming sensation of him ripping her denim shorts off—

Nothing happened.

The intense pressure against her crotch suddenly vanished.

Ghosty let out a soft, surprisingly gentle chuff. His massive, leathery wings unfolded, releasing her from the tight blanket of his chest, and his heavy arms gently set her boots back down on the stone floor. He stepped back two full paces, giving her plenty of space to breathe.

Rebecca stumbled slightly on her shaky legs, her hands flying to her hips as she stared at him in absolute, dumbfounded shock.

Wait... he actually listened to me? He actually stopped?!

This was the second time that he had listened to her and for some reason she was feeling disappointed

Her face flushed an even deeper shade of red, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over her as she realized she had worked herself up into a frantic panic over nothing.

"O-Oh," she muttered, adjusting her bandana, her voice tiny and awkward. "Well... good. Glad we have an understanding."

Ghosty didn’t seem bothered by her reaction at all. Instead, the giant bat turned his body sideways and crouched low to the cobblestones. He flattened his massive torso against the stone, extending one of his broad, leathery wings like a ramp, and tapped his soft, furry back with his clawed foot.

He turned his head, giving her a clear, expectant look, and let out a series of excited, high-pitched squeaks.

Rebecca blinked, her eyebrows shooting up beneath the brim of her cowboy hat.

"Wait..." She pointed a finger at his furry back. "You want me to... ride you?"

Ghosty nodded his massive head enthusiastically, giving a happy, low-frequency rumble from his chest.

Rebecca stared at his broad, soft-furred shoulders, then looked up at the vast, open night sky above the courtyard. A breathless, giddy smile slowly broke across her face, completely replacing her earlier anxiety.

"Fly..." she whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "We’re actually going to fly?!"

Forget subterranean sewers and creepy Gothic churches. She was about to fly over the Arklay Mountains on the back of a giant, soft-furred mutant bat.

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