2. Meet the XXXombies
“Hi sweetie, good hunting?” said a sultry girl’s voice, as Kirsten entered the apartment.
Her roommate Petra was lounging on the chaise, reading a fitness magazine. She had lilac yoga pants draped dreamily around her long, toned legs and a matching workout bra top that hugged her breasts together above her firm midriff. The lanky Latina smiled, with a gleam in her eye that lit up her face. She sprang up to give Kirsten a hug. Kirsten was glad to see her. Petra always made her feel safe. They had been best friends since high school; she knew Kirsten better than anyone else. It felt good to have someone you could trust all your secrets to. Especially when you’re undead.
Petra was the consummate picture of loyalty. She would always go all out for her friends, and she was the queen of sociability. Everyone knew her and loved her forthright, gregarious nature. But she was also the wise, practical and street smart one, even as a young schoolgirl. “Every human being will disappoint you somehow,” she would frequently tell Kirsten. “In one way or another, their flaws and selfishness will catch up with them. You and me, we are cursed. We love giving and being there for others, but some people will just take and take. I can spot them early on, but you? You give everybody too much credit.”
Petra was effectively big sister to Kirsten. In appearance though, she was a total departure from Kirsten’s Swedish blonde looks. Her light olive skin and dark chestnut hair set off her naturally red lips. She was three quarters Mexican, but had German and Romanian genes in her mixed parentage giving her exquisitely exotic looks.
Two other women were in the small but tastefully decorated brick apartment. Their housemates Shalini and Eva were sprawled on the large cushy L-shaped sofa, with glazed eyes on the TV but not really processing what was on the screen.
“Hi Kirsty,” they piped up, casting a brief look at Kirsten lingering in Petra’s embrace. It was just longer than usual.
“You seem relieved to be back. Shitty day at work?” said Shalini, in her deep breathy voice, thick with sardonic overtones without even trying. The voluptuous Indian girl had on thick disco make up, a turquoise sequined minidress that hugged every inch of her body, and giant gold loop earrings. It wasn’t clear whether she had just come home or was going out. Quite possibly both.
Shalini enjoyed flaunting her sexuality. It was always over the top, and always gaudy, exuding confidence so thick it was like a force field challenging you to penetrate it. There was also a certain desperation about it, like a girl at 30 who had partied too much and was trying to fend off what the next decade would bring. Tonight she looked a little disheveled but nonetheless pleased with herself. Her thick black wavy hair was in sexy disarray, and she was toying with her own curls with some self-satisfaction. It was the just-fucked look.
Sitting next to her, the Korean girl Eva looked severely prim and proper in her monochrome business suit and her geeky dark-rimmed glasses. But the girls knew what was underneath that conservative attire — her favorite red patent leather bra and thong. With metal studs. There was probably a small riding crop stashed in her skirt too.
“Tsk, you want to see shitty days, come work at my firm,” said Eva with a cynical snarl.
Eva had a thing for painfully demanding jobs. She worked as an M&A lawyer in a mid-sized firm, one that always had to try harder. She liked it because it wasn’t as high profile as the other prestigious firms, where she wouldn’t draw too much attention. And she liked that they weren’t beneath using her as a bribe for clients. The kinky, twisted clients who loved her brand of pain.
Eva was older than all the rest, somewhere in her mid 30s, but her Asian genes gave her that perennially youthful beauty which always had you unable to place her age.
They were all the same kind. Beautiful zombies, or perhaps more accurately “xxxombies” — undead with an immortal hunger, kept alive by the miracle of sexual “qi”. Bound together by the same secret, they helped look after one another in a world that had zero tolerance for their kind.
Or at least that was the idea. They didn’t always get along, but at least they understood each other.
“Hi girls, I had a good day actually,” said Kirsten, turning to look at them but still not releasing the hug.
“You do look much better than you did this morning,” said Petra with a cheeky smile.
“Yes, I’m sure you can tell I just fed,” said Kirsten, kissing her best friend briefly on the cheek, leaving a faint stain of semen. Petra’s cheek glowed as it absorbed the residual qi. The Latina let out a small “oooh” as she felt the enervating buzz. She jumped about in mock joy. Yes, once they were xxxombies, their skin could absorb the goodness of cum as well. But oral feedings were the most beneficial.
“Mmmm. Bet he was hot,” said Eva, licking her lips.
“Oh, he wasn’t too shabby actually, except that he tried to mug me when I took the darker shortcut home…” said Kirsten, kicking off her shoes.
The girls laughed, picturing the folly of the wannabe mugger. Kirsten knew how to take care of herself. Even without resorting to aikido and Brazilian jiu-jitsu, the luscious blonde could freeze men in their steps with just one look. She could strike icy fear into them just long enough to have the upper hand. Even the toughest of ruffians had no chance.
“Men,” said Kirsten, rolling her eyes. “He shouldn’t have, but just as well. My hair was starting to fall out!”
“Sweetie, you need to get your head out of that R&D lab more often,” said Petra, referring to Kirsten’s work place. “All the work and no play…plus male colleagues whose libidos have chemically disintegrated…maybe one day yours will too!”
Kirsten stuck her tongue out in defiance. She joined Shalini and Eva on the sofa. There was a late night detective drama on TV with a plot that had too much talking and no destination. No doubt they were watching it just for the male eye candy.
“Well, I suppose you had a good day at the library today?” Kirsten asked. Petra was a librarian. The hottest one the county library ever hired.
“Mmmmh! Yes! Twins!”
Petra sank in next to her giggling.
“Oh?” Kirsten raised her eyebrows with interest, awaiting more details.
“Twins?” Shalini sat bolted up, her frosty blue eyeshadow clashing with her huge brown eyes. She had had many men, but yet to score twins, her elusive fantasy.
“Yes, it was like seeing a double miracle! They were so awesomely buff and cute…at first I thought geez, they had to be gay. But they gave me ‘that look’,” said Petra, her eyebrows dancing with knowing emphasis. “So I put on my librarian glasses and showed them the rare books collection. Nobody ever goes there, as you know…”
“Darn, and I thought I got lucky,” said Kirsten. “No wonder you look extra languid and satisfied!”
“Yes, I had both my mouth and pussy well-filled. Repeatedly,” said Petra. “I’m good for a few days, I think!”
Petra leaned over backwards and did a handstand, her long legs crossing above her and coming down the other side like a gymnast. She sure was rubbing it in.
Kirsten rose up too, taking her shirt and thigh-high stockings off. She tossed them into a nearby linen-lined wicker basket, her skin glowing smooth in the incandescent lighting. She liked being naked at home, and the girls were used to it. Some days they all lounged around in the nude, giving each other oil massages — essential for keeping their skin supple.
“Ugh, but I can’t stand the library,” said Shalini, wrinkling her nose as though the library was a refuse center.
Kirsten flung her bra playfully at Shalini. “Why, no pickings at the hospital today?”
Shalini worked at the district hospital as a nurse. Her exotic Indian looks always made her stand out. That curvy hourglass body was top-heavy with bouncy tits threatening to spill forth from her tight uniform. Shalini pretty much showed up just for sex. If it wasn’t with the hospital management or interns, it was with the visitors, and sometimes a VIP patient in the private suites. When she wasn’t having sex, she was constantly teasing patients on her routines, bending over to reveal her cleavage or rubbing her ass across their hands. Those who groped her would find she was not wearing panties. She kept a few hearts pumping well; blood circulation was healthy in her ward.
“Well, I called in sick…then the landlord showed up, so that was all I had today,” she whined, her Indian accent and melodrama unmistakable. “You know I’m the reason he keeps our rent low, right?”
Eva jumped in, “And I’ve told you repeatedly, you don’t need to do that fat ass Italian. We can afford this address just fine.”
Shalini ignored her. She took Kirsten’s bra, lifted it to her face and inhaled the lightly perfumed scent. “Another Jo Malone fragrance? You should really try Dior. I’m forever a Poison girl.”
“Oh please. Poison is so ’80s!” said Kirsten, shuddering. “What kind of men would you get with that? Old geezers still reminiscing about their youth?”
Shalini threw all the cushions on the sofa at Kirsten. It was fast becoming a pillow fight with peals of laughter.
Eva got up and decided she had had enough of puerile banter. She threw her hands in the air, saying, “You girls are just a gaggle of sluts!”
They were all a little high and drunk on life’s essence. Sex was just nourishment, something they needed every day in place of real food, ideally three times a day. They did feel trashy sometimes, but even that was decidedly enjoyable.
“Well, I haven’t had my night feed yet,” said Eva, checking her reflection in the large wall mirror behind the sofa and smoothening her outfit. She released three buttons on her white shirt to let her red bra peep out. “I’m going out. Maybe I’ll get lucky at Willie’s Bar. Damn, I love that name.”
“Willie’s Bar!” Shalini also shot up from the sofa. “Oh it’s awesome! Can I come with you, Eva? Pleeeease? Please, please, pretty please?” She started doing a little belly dance around Eva. It was annoying and Eva pursed her lips tightly.
“No, silly girl. I hunt alone. You know that,” Eva said. She didn’t need a loud, attention-seeking girl around to hinder her efforts. Their styles were poles apart, and frankly, Eva didn’t like the men that Shalini drew.
“Eva, you’re a rotten sport,” said Shalini, sticking her tongue out at her. “You’re just afraid I’ll get your men! Can’t handle some competition?”
Eva’s face turned dark, her eyes burning angrily. Without warning, she swiped a fork from the nearby breakfast counter, and stabbed it into Shalini’s cheek. She tore the flesh out as she dragged the fork along the jaw.
Shalini gave a shriek. She quickly backed off before Eva could make another lunge at her. But Eva merely sat down at the breakfast counter, placed the stained fork calmly down on a plate, and trained her eyes on Shalini’s cheek intently.
The cheek wound, with bloody shreds gaping open seconds ago, was no longer there. Shalini’s tissues had regenerated quickly, the new skin a pale patch where too much blusher used to be.
“See, Shalini? Your healing power is at maximum. You’ve fed more than well enough today,” Eva said, with nonchalant objectivity, resting her elbow on the counter. “This isn’t about competition. Our styles are just too different, and so are the men we aim for. The main point is, you’ve already had enough for the day. You know you can’t stockpile this energy.”
“You’re always bullying me!” Shalini pouted and stormed off to her room. Eva fished out her lipstick from her bag on the living room table and put on her warpaint.
Petra and Kirsten had watched the whole scene in surprise, but neither were too perturbed about bodily harm. Eva shredding Shalini’s cheek was as inconsequential as tearing her outfit.
“You know, after all these years, it still spooks me that we feel no pain,” said Petra wistfully, lifting her hand up to her gaze, studying it like a strange object. “I can barely remember what pain feels like.”
Kirsten smiled. “Do you miss that? I don’t.”
Petra laughed, casting a glance back at Eva. “Our hotshot lawyer might, though. S&M just isn’t quite the same anymore without pain.”
“Well,” said Eva, “I find my joy in other ways. Torturing my bosses and clients. Trumping a deathly difficult negotiation. Making scads of money and throwing it away. I make do. Plenty of ways.”
“Pleasure from pain. Well, I’m squeamish. Pain, blood, cuts. Thank god we regenerate quickly,” said Petra.
“Yes, but we must never show it,” said Kirsten. “So far we’ve been lucky. We’d have to skip town if anyone saw us. Then again, I suspect we have to do that anyway, every ten years or so. People get so suspicious when they notice that we never age. There’s only so much you can blame expensive skincare!”
“Speaking of skincare, I’m in need of a nice facial and a stiff drink,” Eva laughed, her spiky Louboutin heels already clicking impatiently as she headed towards the door. “See you girls later.”
Eva stepped out into the cold night air. She paused to light a cigarette. She had never smoked before she was a zombie. Afterwards, however, it became a game, like playing with fire, zombies’ biggest fear. Fire that she had full control over.
Eva looked at her mobile phone. There was a message from Jarrett, again asking to meet. He was a vet that she met when she brought an injured stray cat in. She liked him. Very much. He was sweeter than most men she had dated when she had been alive. But tonight she was going to bed a stranger, not him.
They could not have relationships with humans. It was far too risky. For both sides.
She flung the cigarette butt on the pavement and stubbed it out.