Chapter 47: The Silent Village

Chapter 47: Chapter 47: The Silent Village

A/N: Had missed to upload the image in last Chapters. So here it is.

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Rebecca adjusted the brim of the leather cowboy hat, taking a tentative step away from the wall.

Her legs were still a little unsteady, but the sheer, bone-deep exhaustion that had pinned her to the linoleum only minutes ago was mysteriously fading away. A strange, simmering warmth was spreading outward from her lower stomach, hummed through her veins, and recharged her battery at a terrifying speed.

Then her eyes swept over the floor, and her brief moment of relief instantly evaporated.

Scattered across the blood-stained tiles lay her heavy canvas pack, the pump-action shotgun, three loose boxes of 12-gauge shells, and the massive, six-shot grenade launcher they’d hauled out of the art room. Ghosty was already trotting casually toward the doorway, his armored tail swaying like he was leading a parade and didn’t have a single care in the world.

"Hey!" Rebecca shouted, her voice echoing off the concrete walls. "Where do you think you’re going?!"

The two-hundred-pound hellhound paused, turning his canine head back to look at her with an innocent, milky-eyed stare.

"Are you serious right now?!" She threw her hands up, the red bandana around her neck shifting with the sudden movement. "You’re just going to strut out of here like a prince and leave all of this on the floor?! What am I supposed to do, haul three heavy guns and a giant supply sack on my own while wearing denim underwear?!"

Ghosty blinked. His ears flattened against his skull as the realization visibly dawned on his mutated brain. He lowered his snout, letting out a soft, pathetic whine, and sheepishly trotted back across the break room toward her.

Stopping right at her feet, he leaned down and offered a big, wet, apologetic lick directly to her bare kneecap.

Rebecca didn’t even flinch. She just stared down at him with a completely flat, deadpan expression.

"You do know that knee was on the floor two minutes ago, right?" she asked, her tone dry enough to strip paint. "You are literally licking subterranean sewer dirt. Gross."

Ghosty gave a small chuff, untroubled by the critique, and nudged the canvas pack with his nose, patiently waiting for her to strap the harness onto his armored back.

Rebecca sighed, bending down to grab the gear. As she moved, her mind couldn’t help but linger on the bizarre sensation buzzing under her skin.

Just ten minutes ago, her body had felt utterly broken. Her pelvis had throbbed, her muscles had felt like wet tissue paper, and she had been convinced she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week. But now? A smooth, high-octane surge of energy was sweeping through her limbs, washing away the soreness and leaving her feeling bizarrely refreshed.

I feel like I could literally run a marathon right now. How is that even possible?

A sudden, hot blush crept up her neck, turning her cheeks a fiery crimson.

Is this... is this just what sex does to a person? Is it really this intense?

Her mind briefly flashed back to her university dormitory. Because she had entered college as a underage prodigy, none of the older students had ever dared hit on her, but she hadn’t been deaf. She remembered listening to her roommates constantly sneaking guys in, giggling about sneaking out between classes, and constantly finding every absurd excuse to lock the bedroom doors. Back then, she had thought they were just being wildly irresponsible.

No wonder they were doing it every single chance they got. If it makes your entire body feel this alive afterward...

A sudden, traitorous tingle rippled straight through her lower belly, settling deep between her thighs where the thick, drying heat of his load was still trapped behind her panties. Her breath caught in her throat.

Stop it! What is wrong with you?! He is a mutated animal bioweapon! You are a police officer! Stop thinking about how good it felt! It was literally a crime!!

She angrily shook her head, slapping her flushed cheeks with both hands to break the mental spiral.

"Focus, Rebecca, focus," she muttered under her breath, reaching down to grab the heavy canvas mule-pack.

She braced her core, expecting her sore arms to strain under the heavy load of spare ammo and whatever random shit she had put inside. But when she lifted it, the bag came up effortlessly, feeling almost weightless in her hands.

She blinked, momentarily confused as she hoisted the six-shot grenade launcher and slung the shotgun over her shoulder. They felt remarkably light, almost like she was handling plastic replicas instead of heavy military ordnance.

Huh. Guess the adrenaline is really kicking in.

Not wanting to waste time overthinking it, she quickly strapped the canvas pack onto Ghosty’s back, securing the velvet curtain cords around his broad chest.

As she leaned over his back, she inevitably caught the distinct whiff of his scent. She couldn’t help but let out a quiet, private sigh of relief.

At least he smells good. If he’d smelled like a rotting corpse while... God, I probably would have vomited my guts out right then and there.

Ghosty turned his head, his heavy, wet tongue sliding up the side of her neck in a sloppy lick. Rebecca didn’t even flinch. She barely even paused her hands, completely desensitized to the giant bioweapon’s constant, overbearing physical affection. She just leaned away slightly so he wouldn’t get drool on her red bandana.

She gave his armored rump a light spank.

"There. All set," she said, resting her hands on her denim-clad hips. "Just do me a favor and don’t spill the load next time you decide to transform or whatever."

Before the dog could bark in response, her tactical radio burst to life with a harsh, electrical screech.

BZZZZT—KZZZZT!

Rebecca reached down, unclipping the small device and holding it close to her ear. The signal was already fighting a losing battle against the concrete ceilings.

"Chambers... come in! Chambers, do you... zzzzt... read me?!"

"Captain Marini!" Rebecca pressed the transmit button. "I hear you! I’m here!"

"...located the... zzzzt... transport?! Did you find the escaped convict, Billy Coen?!"

"Captain, Coen is dead!" Rebecca spoke clearly into the receiver. "He was already infected—I had to neutralize him!"

She opened her mouth to report the rest, but a deafening wall of white noise tore through the speaker, completely drowning her out.

"Repeat... Coen is... zzzzt... Chambers? Are you... KZZZZZT..."

The line went entirely flat, returning to a low, continuous hiss of static. Rebecca pressed the button a few more times, but she didn’t get so much as a click in response.

She let out a frustrated sigh, clipping the radio back onto her belt.

"Figures," she muttered, adjusting her cowboy hat. "We need to get out of this underground dump first if we want any kind of decent reception."

She looked down at the two-hundred-pound hound standing beside her.

"You wouldn’t happen to know a way out of here, would you?" she asked casually, not actually expecting a response.

Ghosty let out a sharp, enthusiastic bark and gave his massive canine head a very distinct, deliberate nod.

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

"Oh. You actually do?"

The hound gave a proud wag of his tail, spun on his haunches, and trotted out into the dark hallway. Rebecca shook her head, a faint, amused smile tugging at her lips as she adjusted the strap of her shotgun and followed him into the corridor.

The grinding of heavy iron gears vibrated straight through the soles of Rebecca’s boots. She held onto Ghosty’s broad, armored shoulder, her fingers digging into his dark chitin as the circular observatory platform shuddered its way up the dark vertical shaft.

Then, the dark soil pressing against the thick glass dome gave way.

Moonlight flooded the chamber.

Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat. She pushed off Ghosty’s back and stepped closer to the glass, her eyes wide under the brim of her cowboy hat. The thick layer of subterranean dirt was gone, replaced by a vast, obsidian sky peppered with millions of sharp stars.

Real sky. Actual, honest-to-god fresh air.

A breathless laugh escaped her lips. She pressed her bare palm against the cool glass, feeling a wave of pure relief wash over her. After spending hours trapped in flooded sewers, blood-splattered break rooms, and suffocating concrete corridors, seeing the open night sky felt almost surreal.

"We’re actually outside," she whispered, her voice carrying a rare, fragile note of pure joy. She looked down at the hellhound beside her. "Look, Ghosty! We made it out of that creepy ass facility!"

Ghosty let out a gruff chuff, giving his heavy tail a lazy thump against the metal grates, though his milky eyes were far more focused on the bare skin of her exposed thigh than the celestial view.

With a heavy, echoing CLANG, the platform locked into place at the top of the shaft. A heavy steel door at the edge of the observatory hissed open, releasing a draft of crisp, pine-scented mountain air.

Rebecca took a deep breath, instantly regretting her choice of outfit as the cold wind whipped across her exposed stomach and bare legs. Her nipples hardened against the thin orange crop top.

That was because of the chilly wind of course, there was no other reason...

She unslung her pump-action shotgun and stepped out onto an elevated stone bridge. Below them, shallow, dark water lapped gently against mossy stone pillars, covered in a thick blanket of low-lying fog.

Ahead of them lay a bizarre, dilapidated settlement. Old, wooden and stone buildings stood huddled together beneath the towering mountain peaks, looking like an abandoned nineteenth-century European village that had been swallowed by the forest.

"What the hell is this place?" Rebecca muttered, stepping carefully over the slick cobblestones. "Did Umbrella build an entire village in the middle of the mountains?"

Ghosty trotted right at her heel, his heavy claws clicking rhythmically against the stone. He gave her bare knee a warm, wet boop with his nose, making her jump slightly.

"Cut it out," she scolded softly, though there was no real bite to her voice. She swatted his snout away with the barrel of her gun. "Keep your eyes peeled. This whole place gives me the creeps."

She swept her flashlight beam across the dark windows of the wooden structures. Nothing moved. No low growls echoed through the mist. No dragging feet or wet, hungry squelches filled the silence.

It was dead quiet.

"This doesn’t make any sense," Rebecca murmured, her frown deepening as they walked deeper into the settlement. "If this place is connected to the training facility—which it obviously is, considering our basement opens right into it—where are all the people? Even if everyone in this village got infected, shouldn’t there be zombies shuffling around?"

[To Be Continued]

A/N: Next update tomorrow at same time.

Also one of you had mentioned about problems in using patreon cuz your country etc doesnt support it smth and had suggested Boosty?

So i went down the rabbit hole and worked out some support for Boosty. Its a tad more complicated because boosty doesnt have direct links like patreon, but i made some workaround. basically you link you discord to boosty and my site and it will give you a role on discord server and automatically give you corresponding access on the website.

as boosty doesnt have any option of gifting memberships, i couldnt test it. in case anyone wanna help, feel free to drop message on discord server.

Discord Invite Link:

discord.gg/7fCsqsFecD

You can support the author and read advanced Chapter at patreon:

www.patreon.com/HornyShitler

You can check out the story at my website:

cornyshitler.pages.dev