Apocalypse: After Reanimation, I Became The Queen-Chapter 59: _ Undead Feast

Robbie’s hand tries to grab me but I duck.

Slap.

The sound echoes louder than my heartbeat, and I swear I felt his wrist vibrate from the force of it. His cocky grin disappears immediately.

It’s so obvious he doesn’t think I’m going to be defiant as just one girl in the middle of an apocalypse.

"You try that again and I’ll shove this umbrella so far up your ass, you’ll be tasting rainwater for weeks." I hissed, eyes blazing with fury.

He laughs. The bastard actually laughs, like I’m joking. But Hugh doesn’t.

"You’re making a mistake," I say, stepping back.

My pulse is pounding. It’s not in fear, but in anticipation and in the dark, twisted thrill of what’s to come.

Robbie winks. "No, babe. You’ll see who made the mistake when we tie you up and leave you out front like bait. Ambush is easier when we have our own fat ass whore as a sacrificial lamb."

The two cronies exchange glances, whistling as they lustfully size my ass:

I go dead still. Hell, I’m still not used to having a fat ass or such huge boobs, but what to do when the system claims it’s an essential part of my mission.

My fingers tighten around the handle of my umbrella. So that’s their plan. They are not just planning to rape me.

No, it’s not just humiliation... oh no, these assholes are planning to dangle me out there like a slab of meat to draw in the zombies over some ambush with some unfortunate survivor base that is unlucky to have them as enemies.

It almost makes me laugh. I say almost because they don’t know what I am. Yet.

Robbie tauntingly draws closer to me again. His breath reeks of protein bars. "C’mon, sugar. We’ve had a long day."

His hand brushes my hip, like he owns it. I slap it off with the same precision casually.

Behind him, Hugh shifts, just enough to step forward like he’s about to "help."

I step back into the corner, making my body tremble like I’m terrified. My eyes dart to the ceiling, like I’m begging for help. Then I whisper, just low enough that only someone whose ears are strained enough could hear.

"System... give me the rusty dagger."

There’s a flicker in my sight before a blink materializes across my palm like sunlight catching steel... and there it is.

Rusted and crooked.

Soon enough, this blade will be fully dull. I should be able to unlock a new weapon by then. I would have opted for the rifle but I want this done silently.

Silence is a general language in the apocalypse:

Robbie notices the dagger in my hand that suddenly appears out of nowhere. "What’s that..."

Shlick.

The dagger drives into his side. He screams, loud and wet, like an animalistic sound. Hugh, shocked, attacks, but I’m already twisting the blade, dragging it up his ribcage like I’m filleting a fish.

Robbie collapses and begins to twitch. His skin is pale and his limbs begin to jerk.

Hugh grabs me from behind which is so much of a big mistake.

I ram my elbow back, crunching into his nose. Blood sprays all over like a broken faucet. He howls in pain. I spin, the dagger already slicing through his side.

The blade bites deep into his thigh. I yank it out and go again; shoulder, arm, side. He writhes in pain, his legs wobble, and he drops to one knee, sputtering something that sounds like, "What are you...?!"

I lean in, close enough to feel his ragged breath against my face.

"I’m your worst goddamn mistake."

Then I drive the dagger into his throat. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to make him gurgle, and enough to paralyze him.

Because killing? Nah. That’s too merciful. Moreover, I only eat the living.

I drag the two of them into the middle of the room, grunting, and panting. My arms are wet with blood, my shirt is ruined, and my hair is stuck to my neck.

Oh, and the smell of their blood all over me? It’s fucking Glorious.

Robbie tries to crawl away pitifully. I watch him as he drags himself on the floor like a snail.

Jerk.

I step on his hand, grinding my heel down until I hear a sickening pop.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

He gives out a pathetic whimper.

I crouch beside him, my head tilting like I’m curiously observing a dying animal.

"You wanted to use me as bait," I say, giggling. "Should’ve made sure I wasn’t the predator."

I trace the dagger’s edge across his cheek, slowly, savoring the moment. A line of blood wells up instantly, and he shudders like I’ve just marked him.

"Don’t worry," I murmur, my voice sweet as sugar. "You’ll stay alive long enough to enjoy this."

Then, I feast.

The dagger drops from my hand, and I sink my teeth hard into his shoulder like a dog on a bone. His flesh tears away with a sickening rip, the taste flooding my mouth.

By God, it’s so warm and metallic, pulsing with terror. I chew, savoring the flavor of fear.

The fear of bad men who think they are above the world is particularly the tastiest. Noted.

Robbie screams, the sound cracking and breaking and disintegrating into a sob.

Ouu... what a pitiful weak thing.

I swallow his flesh and blood, gulping it down.

The rush hits me like a jolt of lightning, the power coursing through my veins. My limbs are humming with stolen heat. My twisted ankle snaps back into place with a satisfying pop.

It wasn’t painful before but it aches. But now, there’s no more pain anywhere in my body. Just the hunger. Just the high.

I laugh.

"Oh, that’s the good stuff."

Behind me, Hugh wheezes. He makes a pitiful attempt to crawl across the blood-stained floor and run away from me. The same pitiful girl they were going to fuck and kill.

I let him.