Good News

Your Status: Strong Resistance, Infection at 3%

Your Equipment: Ball Cap, Clothes(B), Sneakers

Your Inventory: Pistol A (15/15), Flip Lighter, Mini Flashlight, Jury-rigged cord

You take a glance out the windows and breath a sigh of relief. Though there are a few Infected outside, none of them are close enough to notice you when you cross. Still, you don't take chances. You pull off the cord and unravel it, before grabbing the end and crossing. Luckily, the door you're after is on the other side of the front desk, and it gives you ample cover to check outside once more. When you do, you bite back a curse. You didn't notice those two before. They didn't see you it looks like, thankfully. You continue on, mindful of the time limit you are on.

You turn on your flashlight, open the door, and manage to draw a good length of cord through, before you turn to survey the room. You are startled, however, when you feel hands grab your head and you are unable to prevent a large meat tube from being shoved down your throat. Your attacker wastes no time in using you as a sex toy, the dick (you are certain about that) driving down to the base and pulling back until only the head is still in your throat. On one of the drives down, your eyes look up to try to catch your attacker's face, however, all you can see are a pair of large breasts in the dim light granted from your flashlight. Of course. (Wait, where did your hat go....)

It's when you finally regain your balance, and after you realize that you dropped the flashlight, that you notice the odd tightness in your chest. This thing is fucking your throat so rapidly that you can't breath! Already, you can see darkness encroaching from the edges of your vision. You lift your hands to the Infected's thighs and push, but it's too strong. You can't get away! What are you going to do?!?

Your vision reduces to about the size of quarters when something happens. Everything slows down and you stop thinking. You just....act....

As the hands guide your almost limp head back, you shoot forward, burring the dick down your throat as the grip on your head loosens. Your hands, still on the Infected's thighs, reach around and grab its ass to hold it in place and you struggle to your feet, lifting the Infected as you do so. The action doesn't stop it from coming as you do so, flooding your stomach with its tainted cum. You don't care though, as, as soon as you have the necessary leverage to do so, bend forward as fast as you can. You aren't sure what the results were, but the hands keeping your head in place go limp, prompting you to pull your head free and take a deep breath.... only to immediately vomit. The disgusting breakfast mixed with semen, was just waiting to come up, and that deep breath was an open door for it to do so.

You dry heave twice more, before you fight back the urges and grab your dropped flashlight. Need to hurry. It doesn't take long for you to find and unplug the power strip, and plug it into the extension cord. A quick glance over the system tells you most of what you need to operate it. Your hands fly over the controls and end with you hitting play......to silence. You curse, before you spin around, trying to find something with the flashlight to use before you spot a cd half buried under some papers. You jam it into the player and press play once again. You step back, to begin actually searching the room as the cd plays, before the first song start and you groan. Why in the hell did someone have a cd with THAT song on it? You fight the urge to turn it off, and start to search as 'Gangnam Style' plays in the background.

As the song winds to an end, you are disappointed at the contents of the room. The only thing of value is an keycard you guess opens every door in this place, but there's no power to read it. Still, you did wipe off what vomit remained on you with the sleeve of a jacket hanging on a coat rack, and you downed what was left of a roll of breath mints to try to get rid of the taste. You also managed to retrieve your ball cap, threading your hair through the opening in the back this time to keep it from falling off again. Luckily, the song ends, and you are extremely eager to unplug the extension cord and get the hell out of here. At the door, you pause briefly to turn the flashlight off and stuff it into your jeans.

Once again, you reach the main lobby and you bolt, in a mad dash to the stairwell, your eyes glancing at the windows. Unfortunately, the moment you do, your eyes seem to lock onto 4 or 5 pairs. The distraction definitely worked, and now that some of the Infected noticed you, almost all of them at once raise their hands to slam onto the windows. You can only hope that the windows don't break.