The Toilet Zombie

in Make a Monster 4 comments

Monster parent: Jenny Bones (@JennyBBones)

Chad was so wasted. Wasted beyond wasted, like… so wasted. He stumbled into the bathroom, tripping over an unconscious pledge in the hallway on his way in.

The bathroom reeked of vomit and the floor was sticky, but Chad didn’t care. He felt like he needed to piss for about seven hours straight. He pulled his dick out and swayed dangerously over the toilet for a moment, a wave of dizziness smacking into him with the force of a truck. The room began spinning around him in an almost spiteful way, as if it wanted to make him face-plant into the toilet.

The wet giggle that burbled out of his throat as he sat down on the toilet carried some bile-flavored, recently-swallowed beer with it. He’d pee like a girl, just this once. It was better than getting some sort of toilet-related face injury that would haunt him throughout the rest of his time in college.

A delicious little shiver passed through him as he finally began releasing the contents of his over-burdened bladder. Chad was just starting to think that this sitting down stuff wasn’t half bad when he felt a sharp sting in the tip of his penis. He yelped, jumping up.

And then the yelp became a shriek.

Tiny, clawed blue-gray fingers dug into the head of his cock. The blue-gray fingers were attached to tiny blue-gray hands, the blue-gray hands attached to tiny bony arms, and the tiny bony arms attached to the rotting torso of… a tiny man? Its head was bald and greenish from corruption, dirty yellow skull peeking out here and there where the flesh had peeled away. One itsy-bitsy eye dangled on a sunken cheek, the other socket empty. The lower half of its body wriggled back and forth enthusiastically: a fish tail, black with putrefaction.

Chad processed the details of this horrifying sight in the space of one hallucinatory half-second. There was a mini mer-zombie trying to climb inside his fucking dick.

He slapped at the creature hysterically, but it was already burrowing into him, its head already fully inserted, its eenie-weenie jaws already chewing. He tried yanking it by the tail—its slippery torso now too far in for him to reach—and tiny spines exploded out of its body. The pain nearly made him pass out, and the toilet colliding with his head as he collapsed to the floor finished the job.

He was only out for a second or two. The spines retracted long enough for the zombie to finish its journey up his urethra, and then extended again, ensuring that nothing could dislodge the monster from its tasty new home. Chad rocketed back to consciousness on a blinding comet of white-hot agony.

No one could hear his screams over the doosh-doosh-doosh of the club music blaring through the frat house.

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