SGT CH125: Extra

125 if Extra: If Mousse was the one turned into a zombie

◎ Two corpses snuggling together for warmth in the lonely apocalypse ◎

Whenever he woke up from the hazy, chaotic dreams and saw the “person” lying quietly in his arms, Aix would have the illusion that Mousse had never left him.

Even though the other party was gnawing and grinding on his body, he was willing to treat it as a kiss.

On the day Mousse turned into a zombie, his spiritual world collapsed along with it. Lingering in this world, he was just a remnant.

A walking corpse in another sense.

There wasn’t much difference between him and a zombie.

He and Mousse were merely two corpses snuggling together for warmth in the lonely apocalypse.

So, it’s quite normal for a corpse to fall in love with a corpse, right?

Amidst intense self-loathing and self-contempt, Aix accepted his desire for zombie Mousse, and also accepted his despicable self.

He no longer refused Mousse seeking food from his mouth, even actively catering to him, offering himself up.

The room with tightly drawn curtains was dim and lightless.

In such an environment, Mousse’s eyes appeared a deep black, making him look more human.

Occasionally, when Mousse lay on top of him, lowering his eyes to gaze at him.

Aix would have the illusion that Mousse was still alive.

Uncontrollable intense emotions surged in his body, his heart aching terribly. He could only hug the “person” on him tightly, collapsing and sinking under his demands.

This messy relationship lasted for a long time, until Aix broke through to S-rank, bringing a change.

·

From some unknown point, only an empty whiteness remained in Mousse’s brain.

He forgot many things.

Forgot where he came from, what he was supposed to do, even forgot who he was.

Only an eternally unsated appetite urged him to eat.

He had a very delicious meal.

At the beginning of his birth, the first moment he opened his eyes and looked at the world, he was standing in front of him.

Like food specially bestowed upon him by heaven.

He pounced on him, tasting an extremely delicious flavor.

But a faint trace of consciousness struggled in his empty brain, telling him he couldn’t do this.

But the food smelled really good, really delicious.

And he was very hungry.

He sucked, licked, unwilling to let go of a trace of sweetness.

But the sweet juice gradually disappeared, no longer flowing out.

He tore anxiously, wanting to obtain more food.

The food in his mouth was fragrant and delicious, but he couldn’t bite through it no matter what.

Moreover, he could feel that below this, there was even more attractive, more delicious food.

It was calling him.

However, he couldn’t eat it no matter what.

This made him extremely irritable.

And the hunger grew stronger and stronger, so hungry.

The instinct to survive made him want to abandon this unchewable delicacy and find other food.

But he didn’t want to leave.

This food smelled really good. Even just biting and licking it made him very satisfied.

Even if he could never eat it, never fill his stomach, and finally starved to death on this food, it would be a beautiful ending.

The food, which hadn’t struggled since being bitten by him, as if accepting fate, suddenly moved.

Mousse bit tight on the meat in his mouth without letting go, staring at him with both eyes, vigilant against his escape.

But this food was a bit silly.

Not only did he not run, he even put his finger into his mouth, which Mousse bit in one go.

The food gazed at him sadly, said a string of words he didn’t understand, and finally cut himself open, delivering the sweet juice to his mouth.

Mousse temporarily let go of the food’s finger, pounced excitedly, sucking and licking eagerly.

But he had just tasted the flavor, hadn’t eaten his fill, when the sweet juice disappeared again.

He sucked anxiously, but couldn’t make it flow out again no matter what.

“Healed.”

The food frowned tightly, saying words he didn’t understand.

“Healing ability automatically treating the body.”

“Ao-wu…”

So hungry.

Mousse reluctantly held that piece of flesh in his mouth.

The food stroked his head, sat up, and picked him up.

The zombie’s hunting instinct told him the prey was starting to resist; it was very dangerous.

Mousse struggled hard, his mouth still biting tight on that piece of meat, refusing to let go, biting even tighter.

“Hiss—”

The food looked down at him, stroked his head soothingly again, and said to him:

“Don’t worry, preparing food for you right now.”

Didn’t understand, continued biting.

Afterward, the food delivered fragrantly roasted meat to his mouth.

This was a very special food. Whenever he was hungry, the food would produce things to eat from various unknown places to feed him.

Although these foods weren’t as delicious as this sweet food itself in front of him, they could fill his stomach.

While eating the jerky the food delivered to his mouth, he stared at the food, pretending he was eating him, and the jerky in his mouth became even more fragrant.

Just that the food was always very stingy, not allowing him to eat much.

Every time he ate just a little bit, the food would touch his stomach and forbid him from eating more.

Angry.

Bite him.

Life went on like this for more than ten days.

Suddenly one day, the food changed into a new black packaging bag, wrapping himself up tightly.

Mousse was a bit unhappy; it wasn’t easy to bite at all like this.

Before he could make do and bite, the food stroked his head, then disappeared.

The scent of the food still lingered in the room, but the food vanished.

Mousse searched the room for him in panic but couldn’t find him anywhere.

He walked to the door where the food usually took him in and out, wanting to go out to find the food.

But he couldn’t get out no matter what.

He slapped the door irritably, to no avail.

His not-so-smart brain suddenly realized at this moment that the food had abandoned him and left.

He was sealed here, completely losing his food.

Emotions shifted from panic upon discovering the food’s disappearance, to irritability at not finding the food, to now, realizing the complete loss of the food…

Mousse didn’t understand what the emotion surging in his body was now.

His body felt terrible, as if he were going to die.

Even though zombies could live for months without eating or drinking.

He felt like he would die without the food.

Mousse hid, concealing himself in the cramped cabinet, curling up tightly in the dark.

After an unknown amount of time.

He suddenly smelled the scent of the food again.

He and the food had lived in this house for more than ten days; the scent of the food was everywhere in the room.

But this time, it seemed faintly different.

As Mousse’s gaze moved to the crack of the cabinet door, the door was pulled open, and the food appeared before him.

He pounced, grabbing the food tightly, biting madly on his body, tearing at the food’s packaging bag.

The food tried to feed him jerky.

Mousse ignored it; he only wanted the food in front of him, nothing else.

Before he tore the packaging bag to shreds, the food actively tore open the packaging, revealing himself before him.

Mousse bit down.

Still the familiar touch and taste.

Just biting down calmed his irritable and panicked heart a lot.

But it wasn’t enough; he wanted more.

Perhaps only by eating the food completely, eating it into his stomach, could he keep the food with him forever.

The food seemed to say something, and some cold liquid fell on his body.

The food’s juices were all sweet, but this drop inexplicably carried a bitter taste, making Mousse uncomfortable.

Making him eager to do something.

His gaze fell on the food’s lips; Mousse’s heart moved, and he bit down.

So delicious.

A particularly sweet and refreshing taste, completely different from the red juice he had before.

And the more he ate, the more delicious it became, making him want more.

Mousse seemed to hear his own heart beating violently.

Of course, a zombie’s heart wouldn’t beat.

Oh, it was the food’s heart beating.

Beating so fiercely, the aura around him became even more delicious.

Suddenly pushed away.

The food hurriedly stuffed several pieces of jerky into his mouth, stopping him from continuing to gnaw.

Mousse was a bit unhappy.

But the food leaned back against the wall, breathing and heartbeat extremely rapid and chaotic, looking like he was about to die.

Mousse wanted to eat the food completely, claim him for himself, make him unable to leave again, belonging to him forever.

But he didn’t wish for the food to die.

This was an extremely contradictory thought.

Mousse didn’t know what to do.

His empty brain couldn’t make a decision for him.

Finally, he leaned quietly in the food’s embrace, eating the jerky handed over by the food.

Since then, the food never left him again.

Occasionally, the food would produce an extremely special fluid.

But the food forbade him from eating it.

Every time he wanted to eat, the food would roll him up in the quilt and run into the bathroom himself.

When he came out, the taste had disappeared.

If he sneaked a taste while the food wasn’t paying attention, the food’s reaction would be immense.

Body tensed and arched, fingers clutching the sheets into shreds, his whole person emitting heat, his face showing a roasted red color, as if he would die the next second.

After that, the food would avoid him for a while.

But no matter how he avoided, the food wouldn’t disappear or leave again. He would stay in the same room with him, where he could see him.

Unknown when it started, the look in the food’s eyes when looking at him became more and more complicated, also more and more gentle and passionate.

He began to teach him some things.

For example, pointing at him and saying “Si Si,” “Mousse.”

Then pointing at himself, saying “Aix.”

He didn’t understand at first, nor did he want to understand.

He just wanted to lie in the food’s arms, gnawing on him slowly, grinding gently with his teeth, savoring.

He no longer bit the food as forcefully as in the beginning.

Anyway, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bite through.

And if he bit too much, the food would worryingly rub his cheek and jaw.

As if this simple gnawing would make his jaw fall off.

If he continued to bite, the food would put a mask on him.

Too hateful.

Mousse gradually learned to control his strength, only holding a small part to grind. This way, the food would allow him to bite a bit longer.

Occasionally, the food would lower his head, offering his lips for him to eat, giving him sweet and refreshing juice to quench his thirst.

Although every time after doing this, the food would become very strange, avoiding his eyes, daring not look at him, or covering his own eyes with his arm, letting him gnaw.

Sometimes, the food would also cling tightly to him, calling him Si Si.

He now knew, “Si Si” and “Mousse” were his names.

And “Aix” was the food’s name.

“Ao ao-wu…”

Zombie and human voices were very different. The first time he tried calling the food’s name, the food didn’t notice he was calling him.

Mousse held his face, not very happy, then took a bite on the food’s chest.

The food thought he was hungry and fed him a piece of jerky.

Later, while the food was asleep, Mousse temporarily abandoned his great cause of grinding teeth on the food’s muscles, moving his lips in the food’s embrace, calling the food’s name extremely softly.

Aix.

Aix.

…

The pronunciation became closer and closer, more and more standard.

When the food frowned slightly, murmuring his name, waking up from sleep with reddened eyes.

Mousse called out to him expectantly:

“Aix!”

The food’s eyes gradually widened, full of astonishment, as well as panic and joy.

The food sat up, holding his face with trembling hands, saying many words to him excitedly.

Didn’t understand eh.

Mousse opened his mouth, bit on the food’s body, and continued his great cause of grinding teeth.

The food seemed to realize something, stopped talking, and held him tightly in silence.

Some bitter taste spread.

Mousse wanted to look up but was held down by the food; a drop of cold liquid fell on the back of his neck.

Mousse didn’t know what to do.

Probably because he had practiced for a long time just now, he subconsciously called out the food’s name when opening his mouth.

“Aix, Aix…”

The food suddenly broke down, lowered his head, cupped his face, pressed his lips up, and actively sent himself into his mouth.

Mousse ate very satisfied.

After that, whenever he wanted to eat, he called the food’s name.

The food would never refuse him again, satisfying him every time.

Such a life lasted for a long time until one day, the food seemed to discover something and explained a lot to him.

Although he didn’t quite understand those words, Mousse chose to trust the food.

The food settled him in the room, put an hourglass in his arms, and then went out for a trip.

Mousse shook the hourglass left and right, hoping it would fall faster.

Before the sand fell completely, the food returned.

His state didn’t look right, his body burning with high fever, but he smelled even more fragrant and delicious.

Want to eat.

Mousse pounced, opened the food’s packaging bag familiarly, and started gnawing.

The food held him, lying down on the bed.

Mousse heard the food’s breathing gradually become steady.

He fell asleep.

Some warm power spread from the food’s chest to his brain.

The thick white fog shrouding Mousse’s mind gradually dispersed.

Many memories emerged.

He suddenly remembered.

He wasn’t a zombie; he was originally a human.

His name was Mousse, an ordinary person who lost his ability at the beginning of the apocalypse.

The “food” in front of him was his former ability user boyfriend.

Mousse let go of the small piece of skin and flesh he was biting in his mouth.

Raising his eyes in a daze, he looked at the person lying beside him.

“Aix…”

Support me on Ko-fi