I Picked Up a Zombie

During the peak of my shameless physical desires, I picked up a pet zombie to play with.

He could not speak. Whenever I teased him too much, a single drop of my blood was enough to placate him.

But today, right after I messed up his soft curls, a glowing chat box popped up in front of my eyes.

Oh my god. I've seen people raise cats and dogs, but this is my first time seeing someone keep a Zombie King as a house pet!

The Zombie King has been enduring this cannon fodder's abuse for a year just to map out the Haven's defense systems!

This dumb girl is going to end up as humanity's biggest traitor. Just wait till she gets thrown to the horde and ripped to shreds!

My hand froze right as I was strapping the silver muzzle onto my little zombie.

Sensing my hesitation, he lunged, shaking off the loose strap. His sharp fangs bared, sinking deep into my wrist.

I hissed, a sharp breath catching in my throat.

The little zombie froze. He looked stunned, as if he had not expected his sneak attack to actually land. His milky-blue eyes widened in sheer confusion. Then, slowly, his cold tongue darted out, gently licking the bead of blood welling on my skin.

I pulled my hand back and snapped the muzzle shut. The silver metal locked around his jaw. He thrashed in frustration, but it was useless.

Seven days ago, before heading out on a raid, I had injected him with a heavy-duty sedative designed specifically for infected. It should have kept him out cold on my bed the entire time. But during a quiet moment on the field, I had pulled up the feed of the hidden camera I recently installed in my bedroom.

I wanted to admire his sleeping face, but instead, I saw him sitting up, casually unclasping the muzzle himself.

"Captain, move! The horde is closing in!" My squad's shout had cut my feed short. I shut off my phone and leaped back into the armored vehicle.

When I finally got home, new muzzle in hand, I braced myself for an ambush. But when I unlocked the door, he was lying there, completely still, muzzle perfectly secure. It was as if the security footage had been a hallucination. Still, I woke him up and strapped the tighter, upgraded model onto him.

I washed the fresh bite on my wrist and jabbed an antiseptic serum into my arm. When I walked back into the bedroom, the little zombie was sitting on the edge of the mattress, knees pulled to his chest, burying his face in his arms. Only his messy curls were visible.

I ruffled his soft hair. He looked up, his damp eyes filled with a pitiful, soft gaze. It was incredibly endearing. I pinched his cheek and leaned down, pressing a light kiss to the center of his forehead.

"You bit me today. No dinner for you."

He responded with a low, menacing growl, but it sounded more like a pout than a threat.

Honestly, believing my little zombie is some legendary Zombie King is like believing I am the ruler of the empire.

When the outbreak hit three years ago, a fraction of humanity gained supernatural abilities. I was one of the heavy hitters. Because of my raw power, countless opportunists tried to crawl into my bed just to secure my protection. Even the self-proclaimed strongest commander of the Haven once reached out a hand to me, saying, "You are the only woman fit to stand by my side."

That line made me so nauseous I could not sleep. So, I snuck into his quarters at midnight and castrated him with a combat knife.

I fled the Haven that very night. On my way out, I ran into a ragged little zombie trying to ambush me at an abandoned gas station. I was going to decapitate him on the spot, but before he could even reach me, he tripped over his own feet and faceplanted.

"Dumbass," I muttered, sheathing my dagger. But as I turned to leave, he scrambled up and chased after me.

That was when I got a proper look at his face. I froze. I actually looked around to see if someone was pulling a prank. There was no way a creature of the apocalypse could look so perfectly tailored to my exact aesthetic tastes.

I pulled a spare muzzle out of my pack and strapped it onto him. "An idiot zombie like you is never going to successfully bite anyone. Other monsters will probably eat you alive."

"Growl!"

"Want to come with me instead?"

He lunged, but I caught his wrists and immediately started trimming his dangerously long claws.

Traveling with a brain-dead pet had its challenges. Eventually, when the Haven practically begged me to return, even forcing that castrated commander to offer a formal apology, I decided to go back. It felt great knowing he despised me but could not touch me.

"You guys don't mind if I bring a pet, right?" I stepped aside, revealing my little zombie. "He is very sweet."

The Haven ran him through a dozen scanners before finally letting him in. And now, these random glowing comments were telling me this adorable idiot is the Zombie King?

He had barely tasted a drop of blood all day. By midnight, the sound of his furious teeth-grinding was driving me insane. I snapped my eyes open, irritated.

The Zombie King is insanely brutal to himself. He literally shattered his own core just to bypass the Haven's scanners.

With a broken core, his memory and IQ plummeted. This girl got incredibly lucky. If he had his full faculties, she would be history.

It's fine. His core is healing. The moment he fully recovers, she's dead meat.

A Zombie King, huh?

I reached over and clicked on the dim bedside lamp.

He was curled up at the corner of the mattress, still grinding his teeth. But then I noticed he had somehow stolen one of my sweaters and buried his entire face in the fabric.

"Stealing from me?" I yanked the sweater away.

Nico stared at me, his eyes wide. Sensing my movement, he grabbed my arm and lunged to bite, only for his teeth to clank harmlessly against the silver metal of the muzzle. His loose pajamas had slid down, exposing a sliver of his pale waist.

I pressed my hand against his bare skin. He froze instantly. Under the faint yellow light, his cheeks seemed to flush, though I did not pay it much mind. I flipped over, pinning his hips down with my knees. "If you are going to keep me awake, then you don't get to sleep either."

Though he had a remarkably innocent face, Nico stood at a solid six-foot-two. Beneath his clothes, he was built like a lean, powerful athlete. Just as I was about to indulge in my late-night snack, the chat exploded.

Here it comes! His memories aren't fully back, but his intellect is. He's not going to let this low-tier villainess touch him anymore!

Imagine waking up to see your annoying captor riding you. He's going to tear her apart.

Oh, he won't kill her yet. He's going to sabotage the Haven and frame her first, making her a pariah before letting the horde rip her to shreds.

My brow furrowed. I could enjoy this meal anytime, but I had no interest in a death row feast. Just as I went to slide off him, a cold, heavy hand clamped around my waist, pinning me firmly against him.