...a figure sitting in the centre of the room

You squint your eyes. Even though the armory is illuminated by red glow in the dark emergency lights, it is still murky and difficult to see in, the red blurring together with the black shadows. You see a person sitting in a fetal position on the floor, their head slowly turning to look at you. In the low visibility the face is featureless; except two ochre eyes, one that stares straight at you, and another that has rolled back and got stuck and now seemingly stares at the ceiling.

"Sooo huungry... Cockkkk..." It slurs in a vague feminine, guttural groan as it shambles to its feet.

You jump into action, rushing over to the shelves of weaponry... And immediately being dissapointed in the selection. The place has been picked through rather thoroughly, with no pistols, shotguns, rifles, or even knives or batons left for you to pick up. Frantically searching, you only find a few dented slugs and a half disassembled flash grenade, nothing that could prove useful in you current situation.

However the infected doesn't go for you as you search, it only slowly lurches towards the door, stops just in front of it, and attempts to grasp at the handle, missing the mark a few times. She's trying to close the door! Once again you rush, this time towards the door to prevent yourself from being trapped in, but you were too late, your hand just mere inches from swatting her hand away..

She firmly grasps the handle and pulls the heavy steel door towards her with surprising ease; the door locking itself with a 'ker-chunk'! You are filled with sudden dread.

"Oh," she says innocently as your eyes lock, "trapped..." It's only now with her so close that you see her properly. If she weren't one of them she'd look rather cute, with her relatively short stature, lithe figure and blonde ponytail. She is wearing a white button up shirt with rolled up sleeves underneath the black bullet proof vest that covers her chest, sporting the word 'POLICE' in big yellow lettering across the front. She would look rather normal, but there's two things that differentiate her from a normal officer, aside the obvious signs of infection; one, she is not wearing any pants or underwear (though strangely, still wearing two clunky boots that reach halfway up her calf), her hairy, muffed, wet snatch visibly poking out from beneath the edge of her shirt, but more glaringly, two, a lot of her face is missing. One of her cheeks is just a hole, and her lips too are gone; revealing an agape set of vicious looking teeth, her tongue lulling limp and drooling copiously. Dried blood covers her face and neck.

"Sooo hungryyy..."

You turn to flee, more as an instinct rather than having actually somewhere *to* flee towards, but regardless, it's futile; she grabs you by your shirt collar, the strong, sudden grip causing you to slip and fall on your back, hitting the floor hard. You groan from the pain, clutching at your head. She suddenly falls on you like a draw bridge, knocking the wind out of you as her body slams into your belly; she immediately nuzzles against your crotch, leaving streaks of blood all over your pants, her knees pinning your arms down as her snatch hovers a foot above your face, encrusted with dried pus and dripping vile, acrid fluids that smell just awful. She tears the front of your trousers away like a vicious dog, letting your cock free. She groans, dissapointed at how limp it is, though it's not surprising with your current predicament. You can't help it from growing stiff once she uses her tongue however. She wraps this long winding tentacle of a tongue to coil around your cock like a spring, and she bobs her head forward, ushering in the entire shaft in and down her throat. It must be something to do with the infection, as she does not gag at all, or react uncomfortably for that matter, as if this was perfectly natural for her. You struggle, a last attempt to free yourself, but with every movement your cock goes further in, her slick, fleshy walls contracting and getting tighter, her constricting tongue pistoning up and down, attempting to milk you of all you've got; you hold back as long as you can, a sudden sickening pit growing in your stomach as you grow more disgusted, yet strangely finding this so appealing at the same time. She grinds her cunt against your face, letting you breathe in that intoxicating, dirty filth, yet you're still trying to fight a losing battle, squirming, tring to get your head away like a child looking at a plate of broccoli. You can't hold back any more. You don't really want to hold back any more. You feel your balls welling up, surging up your shaft as you're about to orgasm.

"Ah! Ah! AaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

You scream. Something is wrong. You feel intense pain intermixed with the pleasure. Blood trickles down from your belly and rolls of your neck. She tears a chunk of your stomach away, her tongue trailing away from your cock like a fleeing snake, fatty gristle ripping away in stringy giblets with a sound similar to Velcro unbuckling. You scream more as she digs in with her hands, pulling your small intestine out and gnawing on it, still attached. You feel her juices dripping from her cunt as her now sadistically merry munching causes her to become excited, giving you the last drop of foulness you will ever taste before it continues on and mixes with your blood on the floor. You twitch, helpless and unable to move. You feel her struggle with one of your bones, but it suddenly gives way and snaps, the immense agony and gush of crimson causing you to mercifully black out.

"Soooo hungryyy... Sooooo yummyyy..." she moans in exctasy, sucking the marrow from the bone. It's the last thing you ever hear.