You the Zombie: Happy Family

by Facemelt91

Rating: mature
Tags: Romance, Random, Slice of Life, Dark, Sad
Length: 1520

The cakes are such a happy family. They love each other so much and now they are expecting young foals! It would be a pity if they were to be attacked by zombies, mere days before Mrs Cake was due to give birth...

The Cakes have two babies on the way and they couldn't be happier. But something evil stirs in the night…

You stumble through the town, blood dripping from your face where you so desperately ravished the sweet young mare. You fed yourself well, but your insatiable hunger persists. You crave more blood, more succulent female flesh.

This is a story about love and hope, the magic of young children and the miracle of birth!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-04-22 10:35:51 UTC

Many Happy Returns

You the Zombie

"Are you coming to bed, dear?" asked Mr Cake as he lay in bed reading a book.

"Yes, dear, I am!" replied the heavily pregnant Mrs Cake as she waddled across the room and heaved her bulging stomach into bed.

"I love you, dear," said Mr Cake lovingly.

"I love you too, dear," replied Mrs Cake, equally lovingly.

"Goodnight dear!" said Mr Cake, settling down into bed.

"Goodnight dear!" said Mrs Cake, also settling down into bed.

They fell asleep blissfully.

*

You stumble through the town, blood dripping from your face where you so desperately ravished the sweet young mare. You fed yourself well, but your insatiable hunger persists. You crave more blood, more succulent female flesh.

An enticing smell coming from within a large house the high street grabs your attention. The names on the mailbox say: “Mr and Mrs Cake”. You slowly amble your way to the back door of the house and press your nose against the door. It isn’t the smell of freshly baked bread or fluffy white scones that is tantalising your nostrils.

It is the smell of fresh female cunt.

You strike your undead fist through the window and clamber through it. You follow the smell all the way up a set of stairs towards the master bedroom, where you find them: two ponies, sleeping together in bed. One is a male, the other a female. The female has a large, swollen bump on her stomach.

The smell.

Oh God, the smell.

She is carrying.

You slide that diseased tongue over those rotten lips. You retrieve a meat-cleaver from the kitchen and carry it back upstairs, trying to work out the most efficient way of doing this. As you stand over the male pony, he suddenly opens his eyes, his mouth twisting into an expression of sheer, unadulterated terror as he sees you before him, standing there in all your glory with a fucking meat cleaver in one had.

He opens his mouth to scream, but you bring the weapon down upon his right forelimb, carving a huge gash into it. You retract the weapon and strike him again, this time on the leg, severing his tendons and preventing him from running away. He dives for the floor and starts crawling, but you stomp on his back legs, crushing the bones underneath your feet.

You turn your head and see the heavily pregnant mare waddling away from their bedroom, screaming at the top of her lungs. You pursue her, running as fast as your legs can carry you.

She manages to reach the ground floor of the house before you can throw your meat cleaver at her leg, cutting through it and causing her to fall to the ground. She cradles her bump, pain running through her body as you advance towards her. You drag the mother to-be back upstairs and lay her out on her bed. Her husband is trying to crawl to the bathroom for safety, but you reach down and grab him.

You drive the stallion against the wall of his bedroom, lay his hooves out against the wall and bang long metal nails through his hooves. Nailed to the wall, wailing in agony, the stallion has been rendered useless.

For his insolence, you take your meat cleaver and draw it across his exposed stomach, rending open a wide gash and letting his internal organs spill out from the gaping wound. Intestines hang like fleshy ribbons from his stomach. He gasps at the sight and smell of his own slippery innards. Fear overtakes him and he loses bladder control, pissing all over himself and his leaking organs. You lick your lips hungrily: they will have to wait because the mare is carrying something altogether sweeter.

You hold the struggling mare down, pressing a decrepit hand against her neck. Cryptic breath emanates from your diseased mouth, making the mare gag as you devour her face, pulling at flesh and gum. Your cock is getting hard at the sight of this struggling, pregnant pony. You open out her legs and find her creaming slit, then force your undead penis deep inside her. Her sexualised moans accompany the horrified screams of her husband as he watches you banging his pregnant wife while he slowly dies from his wounds, powerless to stop you.

Her bladder cannot take the combined pressure of the foals she is carrying and the violent thrusting of your cock. It bursts inside her and piss flows from her gaping pussy as you continue to assault it with desperate, merciless cock thrusts. As you approach your climax, you release your foul, yellow seed. You unload yourself inside her, pumping copious quantities of vile, festering cum from your rotten penis inside the mare’s gigantic slit. As you withdraw your cock, your putrid semen leaks from her ravaged cunt.

The birthing time approaches, you think to yourself as you grab your meat cleaver. The mare’s bulging stomach is highly erotic, but the real prize lies beneath. You must deliver her babies.

You strike the mare’s stomach with your cleaver, hacking deep into it. You reach in and take hold of the thick flaps of her stomach and slowly tear it apart. Her organs spill open and she screams in agony. You rummage through her exposed innards frantically. Young life must be free. Must be free to live. You dig with your filthy hands, pulling and clawing through the mare's open guts to hastily excavate the unborn life from within her womb. You reach in and take hold of the two foals and pull them both out into the open air. Disturbed of their sleep, they begin to cry. You cradle the innocent foals close to you, holding them close in your loving embrace. Their flesh is soft and their tiny hearts are beating against their chests.

The mother reaches up desperately for the foals you have taken from her, trying to pull them back inside her ravaged guts, a mother’s instinct. How foolish she is. You lovingly pull the two screaming foals away from her, ripping away the chords they are still attached to. You lay one crying foal down on the ground and cradle the other one lovingly in your hands. This one is a boy, you observe, noticing his tiny genitals between his new-born legs.  You press your mouth to the young foal’s crotch and bite hard, ripping his genitals away in your mouth. He screams desperately, his new-born instincts kicking in, filling his body with adrenaline. He just wants to survive. He just wants to live!

The father is crying bitterly as he watches, consumed by his own wounds, spewing acrid bile over the floor. He is kept alive only by adrenaline and the rapid loss of blood is causing him to slip into a coma. The last thing he sees before the world fades is the sight of you, devouring the internal organs of his new-born son.

Your fleshy meal finished, you discard the corpse of the boy and turn your attention to the girl. It pleases you that one of the babies was female, because for everything that you might be, at least you are not queer. Even you have standards.

You take the filly and hold your erect penis to her mouth. She moves forward to meet it, for it is her instinct to suckle her mother’s teat. The poor child knows no different, and for now, your raging erect penis will have to suffice. She takes the glans into her mouth, trying to suckle for milk. You force it down her throat, silencing her desperate cries and begin fucking the premature foal’s face with your pulsating cock.

Somehow, the mother is still alive, watching you shake your penis with a new-born foal attached to it by their mouth. You hold the foal close to the mother’s face as you pound her skull, pushing your penis out through the back of her fragile head. Her brains bubble to the surface and the foal dies slowly, her limp corpse still attached to your cock. As the mother dies in a hysterical flood of tears, you continue to fuck the dead foal’s corpse until you eventually reach your erotic climax, spraying the entire room with your diseased cum.

Hungrily, you gobble up the remains of the foals and then turn your attention to the father.

One by one, you pull his organs from his body and consume them. As you bite into his still beating heart, blood ejects as the organ bursts violently in your mouth. You scoop up the slush and bloody matter from within the stallion’s stomach and devour it all until he has become little more than a hollow husk, stripped of organs and blood, hanging from the wall like a butchered crucifix.

The mare is truly dead. No life left in her body. You cannibalize her remains as quickly as you can and then leave the building before anybody sees you.

Your feasting now complete and your hunger once again satisfied, you head back to the graveyard before sunrise.