InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stream of Consciousness: A LiveJournal Collection ❯ From Mourning to Moaning ( Chapter 28 )

Title: From Mourning to Moaning

Community: Iyhedonism

Theme: Zombie Sex

Place Earned: none

Genre: Romance, Hentai

Rating: R

Word count: 1,523

Warnings: sexual content

 

 

**Warning: this story contains sexual content. Adults only, please**

 

 

From Mourning to Moaning

 

The wind howled against the outer walls of the dark and lonely hut, its fury going unnoticed by the sole occupant. Sango rested on the futon formerly shared by her late husband, weeping bitterly. Inuyasha and Kagome had graciously offered to watch the children for the night, and the miko had stayed with her until about an hour ago. She had nearly broken down at the funeral, only just maintaining her composure. She was a warrior, not one of those other weak women. And she would not let anyone see her cry.

 

A sudden chill went down her spine, causing her to fly upright. Her eyes flitted nervously around the hut, but nothing was out of the ordinary. She jumped at a sudden clunk on the outer wall, much louder than the pitter-patter of the raindrops. Listening closely, she detected the sound of soft footsteps in the grass. Just outside the door. Grabbing hiraikotsu, she inched closer to the swaying door flap, the only thing shielding her from the mysterious presence outside. Stopping just before the entrance, she listened again. No sounds reached her ears this time save her own breathing. Hesitantly she reached forward toward the mat.

 

A grimy hand shot through the opening and latched onto her wrist, and she instinctively stumbled back a few steps. Her attacker followed, revealing himself in the dim glow of the lightning strike. A hulking figure with filthy, pale skin and dark, sunken eyes. Its other hand rose stiffly, reaching for her… The accompanying thunder clap covered Sango's scream, as she swung hiraikotsu at the monster's head, knocking it clean off. The spherical object rolled along the floor, past her feet and deeper into the hut. To her dismay, the body didn't collapse. In fact it was still moving. Sango had just decided to chop it into a thousand pieces when a familiar voice stilled her weapon.

 

“Is that any way to greet your husband, my dear Sango?” She froze. That voice… But it couldn't be. Miroku was dead…right? Was she going insane from grief? She had to be imagining his voice coming from behind her. Right? Only one way to find out, she mused. She nearly fainted when she glimpsed the fallen head, gazing at her with a mischievous grin. Even in the dim light, there was no doubt as to its identity.

 

“H-h-houshi-sama?” she questioned in disbelief.

 

“In the flesh!” he declared happily. “Now would you please put me back together? I'm afraid my body isn't as coordinated by—oh, there it goes.”

 

*Thunk*

 

Sango turned in time to see the body bounce off a wall, standing confusedly in front of it for a moment as if wondering what it was doing there. Then it spun and walked into another wall, the sight making Sango giggle. It was a pleasant sensation, one which she had never expected to experience again. But Houshi-sama was here, and alive—or was he? How could he survive decapitation, not to mention being buried in the ground?

 

“I don't understand,” she admitted, turning back toward Miroku's head. “I thought you were dead.”

 

“I am dead,” he replied easily. Seeing her stunned look, he continued with his story. “When I awoke from my supposedly eternal slumber, the lingering spirits spoke to me. They told me that the place of my internment was once an ancient youkai burial ground. I now walk the earth as the living dead, cursed to feed on the flesh of the living for all eternity.”

 

“B-but,” Sango started, only to cut herself off at the sensation of a recognizable hand resting on her backside. Growling, she spun on her heel and moved to slap the offender, only to miss completely as her hand whooshed over the houshi's neck.

 

“Well, I guess my body still remembers a few things. And apparently there are advantages to being headless,” Miroku observed amusedly. That was the last straw for Sango's patience. This situation was far too bizarre for her to approach it calmly. Striding over to Miroku's head, she picked it up and tossed it to his body.

 

“Here you go!” Unfortunately, the body muffed the catch, and the head fell to the floor.

 

“Owwwww, Sango that hurt,” Miroku whined as his body reached down and groped blindly for him. “Ah, watch it, you moron!” he yelled when one of his fingers poked him in the eye. Finally, after much effort, and one instance of putting the head on backwards, Miroku was whole again. “There now,” he said, “let's hope that doesn't happen again any time soon!” Sango harrumphed, causing the monk to frown.

 

“Sango, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy?”

 

“I am happy,” she sighed, dropping her hands to her sides, “but what happens now?”

 

“I resume my role as your husband and the father of our children,” he stated, completely serious.

 

“But will that even work? I mean, if you have to eat people, then…”

 

“I will subsist on nothing but sawdust if I have to!” Miroku cried, pulling Sango tightly into his arms. “Please, Sango, I have been given another chance at life. But I need your help to take full advantage of it.”

 

“I don't know…”

 

“We can make this work, Sango. Trust me,” he begged before breaking out in a wicked grin. “And I know exactly how to prove it to you.” Sango's eyes grew wide as saucers, and she tried unsuccessfully to shimmy out of his grasp.

 

“No, Houshi-sama-a-ah…” Her half-hearted protests died on her lips as Miroku's tongue laved her neck, its coolness making her shiver. His hand slipped inside her robes and drew goose bumps from her stomach. She groaned as he nibbled tenderly on her collarbone, and all thoughts of resisting deserted her. What was the point? Sex was another thing she had determined to live without, but now that he was here, her body would not permit abstinence. Her willpower was no match for his skillful lips and hands, and the logical reasons for refusing him suddenly seemed trivial.

 

Reaching down, she moved his hand up to caress an area further north, throwing her head back when the delicious chill spread to her breast. With a blissful smile she recalled their wedding night; she had not worn a breast binding to bed since. His touch was reverent, much like it had been back on that beautiful evening, and it filled her heart with enough warmth for both of them. She flung her arms around his neck and planted her lips on his, shoving her tongue inside the coolness of his mouth. He tensed in surprise, then responded eagerly in kind, pulling her closer and pressing his hardness into her thigh. Sango allowed herself to melt at his attentions. She would warm him up tonight, take him into her body and fill him with her heat. Without breaking their intimate contact, she edged backward and pulled him down onto the futon, he settling comfortably between her legs. Her nails ran up and down his back, demanding that he not make her wait any longer for what they both needed. Finally breaking the kiss, Miroku pulled away, hesitation in his gaze as he tried to speak.

 

“S-Sango, there's something I should tell y—”

 

“Later.”

 

“But it's importa—oof!” The monk suddenly found himself on his back, staring up at the taijiya looming over him. If he wasn't going to give her what she wanted, then Sango would take it. Eyes like a wildcat's, she tore off her robes and pounced.

 

 

 

“Wow,” Miroku said when he finally regained the ability to speak.

 

“Mmmmm,” Sango purred from her position cuddled into his side, her fingers tracing invisible lines on his chest.

 

“How come you were never that…vicious when I was alive, Sango?”

 

She shrugged. “You complaining?”

 

“Certainly not!” Recalling the small tidbit of information from earlier, Miroku grimaced and tightened his arm around her shoulders. “Uh, Sango? Remember when I said something was important before?”

 

“Mm.”

 

“Well, the spirits also told me that if you have sex with a zombie you become one yourself.”

 

“WHAT?!!!”

 

 

 

“Don't be mad at me! I did try to tell you,” Miroku said defensively.

 

“I'm not mad,” Sango replied, “it's just really weird.” No heartbeat pulsed from her chest, and she didn't need to draw breath. Her skin was deathly pale, but didn't feel cold to the touch, probably because her whole body was chilled. Standing, she began to dress.

 

“What are you doing, my sweet?” Miroku asked, clearly disappointed to see her donning clothes. Sango grinned to herself and shook her head.

 

“I want to stretch my legs, plus tell the kids you're alright.” The mention of his children was all it took to get the monk out of bed, and he hastily threw on his robes. The pair exited the hut together, the blackness of the nearby forest calling forth dark thoughts.

 

“Do you think they'll be afraid of us?” Sango questioned sadly.

 

“I don't know,” Miroku answered. “Don't worry, Sango. We'll make this work, somehow.” Sango nodded, accepting his comfort. As long as they were together, they could conquer anything, even death itself.

 

 

A/N - inspired by South Park episode 107, “Pinkeye.” Too bad I couldn't find a place for some lines from the song. Chef becomes a zombie and goes into “Thriller” mode. Classic! XD