Ashes to ashes, Tush to Tits.

[Deska]

Had it been...weeks... or months, maybe even a year?

No one really knew... everyone always had a different answer depending when you managed to ask. When they found the peace of mind to gather their frazzled psyche, and those moments of relaxation were few and far between. Life had changed from the comfortable norm that this generation had grown accustomed too. Sure, there were still some comforts to be had, twinkling little lights in an ever growing net of darkness that covered the globe... the past not completely extinguished, but one thing was certain... the old world, as fresh in the mind as it was for some, was never coming back.

It had started like most things of importance do... quietly. There had been scattered reports in most major countries of a strange illness, symptoms had included an intense, but manageable, fever, profuse sweating, a general restlessness followed by intense hunger pains. It was little to be concerned about. A few schools closed here and there, minor quarantine procedures at the major airports more for publicity then anything else. After all, no one ever died from it... a few days of rest at home, perhaps a hospital visit from a concerned parent. Standard antibiotics were prescribed, alongside a general consensus to keep the individual well fed and provide ample fluids.

It wasn't until the antibiotics stimulated a more profound symptom in the mutated strain of the disease that people realized the severity of this seemingly benign epidemic... and by then, it was far, far too late.

Everyone had a different story who "patient zero" had been. Some were adamant through word of mouth that it had been a reclusive woman in the downtown core of some major, metropolitan area. Others said it was a young girl in a small town in the mountains. Regardless, that hunger that had been gnawing at every afflicted individual eventually won out... and they turned their appetites on their fellow woman rather then the food on their plates. You can imagine the skepticism when the reports began flooding in, more at home in a tabloid then in any credible news source.

"Woman swallowed alive... Digested, human remains discovered in home... Military mobilized to major cities in wake of I.O.S virus"

They all read the same... to peoples credit, even if they had believed the initial reports there was no stopping it. it's airborne, benign strain spreading far too fast under the guise of a harmless pathogen, when the mutation finally presented itself there was no stopping it. The military's of the world quickly changed tactics from quarantine to isolation zones as town after town, city after city was consumed in an orgy of hungry violence. Those infected quick to descend on whatever female flesh they could find, stuffing strangers, former friends, lovers and families into wide gaping maws.

The chaos overran everything. Countries turned away from their counterparts as swarms of hungry, well endowed woman swarmed the streets. The safe zones quickly overwhelmed as not only the infected, but the survivors swarmed the compounds in desperation to avoid such a humiliating, horrendous fate.

... The infected ate well in those first few months...

Now? Now things were quite. Whatever remained of structured government had long since gone underground, if it had even managed to survive in the first place. Those who remained alive scavenged what they could out of the bones of their old society. There were rumors of safe zones that hadn't been overrun... of places that had managed to either go undetected, or ride out the first initial weeks of the infection... but for most, life had become a struggle to scavenge just enough food to survive... and avoid joining the rest of the world on the hips of an amazonian beauty...