Chapter 1 - Full Worm Garden

"Jesus christ, fuckers are everywhere," Lupo hissed into her radio. She wasn't exaggerating, there were literally countless zombies trundling towards the trio of Umbrella mercenaries, and some of the more advanced mutations mixed in for good measure. "Who's got the grenades?"

"That'd be me," Bertha answered. She'd picked over the various explosives that had been on Beltway's corpse, and so was carrying the most grenades. "Get to cover."

Bertha took up a position behind a sturdy-looking concrete building and popped off a couple shots at the undead horde while Lupo and Four Eyes took cover about twenty feet away behind an armored car. That done, the German blonde picked one of the bombs off her belt, dropped her rifle, and held the grenade to her chest with both hands. Remove the safety clip, turn the ring, pull the ring. "Frag out!" 

The grenade had scarcely left Bertha's hand when her vision went dark. It took a minute for her to realize that something had enveloped her head, and by then it was working on her shoulders. Fortunately, her gas mask and its built-in voice-activated radio let her vocalize her displeasure unimpeded. "What the fuck!"

It was Four Eyes who responded first. "Shit, Bertha!"

"Holy fuck, stay down!" kaboom!

"Did that - oh my god."

"Jesus christ, HELP ME!" The thing around Bertha's head pulled her off her feet, and her ass hit the ground hard. In this position, laying on her back with her head trapped, she had no leverage to fight the thing. She panicked for a minute until she realized that it was having trouble fitting her into its mouth. Michaela Schneider was fairly muscular and broad-shouldered for a woman, and the fairly heavy leather coat she wore only made her bulkier. Knowing she had time, she calmed down, unholstered her sidearm and fired shots at where she hoped its body would be until it was empty. If she hit anything, the creature didn't show it. "Someone get over here goddammit!"

Lupo's voice crackled into her ear. "Hang tight. We're pinned down, there's still a ton of these things. And we can't shoot the, uh, worm thing because you're in the way. Just hold on."

"'Hang tight?' Fuck you! Help me!" She threw the handgun away and felt around the pavement, trying to find her rifle. When that proved futile she grabbed the machete from her belt and swung it blindly. It hit the concrete wall and flew out of her hand, clattering away on the ground. Unarmed, she gripped the "worm thing's" mouth in her hands and desperately tried to peel it off. It was a futile effort, and she was forced to stop when the worm managed to work its way past her shoulders. Another moment of panic, and then she almost chuckled at where it stopped next. Try as it might, the worm couldn't work its mouth around her breasts. Bertha was a well-endowed woman, a trait that had quickly gone from being a source of pride to a painful nuisance in her line of work, but if the girls saved her from being eaten alive she'd never complain about them again.

"Stop fucking screaming goddammit," Lupo yelled, "Hold still, I'm gonna shooting the thing."

Bertha heard the distinctive sound of supersonic bullets whizzing past her, and the worm seemed to loosen its grip on her a bit. She was ready to celebrate when she suddenly felt herself getting pulled backwards, her body sliding across the pavement. With horror she realized that it was dragging her to a more private location. 

"NOOOOOO!" she howled. "Don't let it take me! Lupo! Do something! Damn it LePraux, do something!"

"Jesus fuck - okay, just hold on, I'm coming."

But the worm had dragged the German woman too far too fast. Four Eyes' voice came over the radio. "Where'd she go?"

"Shit," Lupo replied. "Shit shit shit. Bertha, can you tell us anything about where you are?"

"I'm still on pavement. Oh god." Whatever it was, this worm thing was insanely agile. Bertha was dragged along like a rag doll, her body painfully bouncing over every obstacle. Her arms and legs flailed, desperately trying to find purchase, but she was moving too fast to grab anything. Her one bit of good luck was that oxygen seemed to be getting through the worm's skin, because she hadn't asphyxiated yet. There was even a bit of light seeping through.

"Don't worry, we're coming," Lupo announced. Then under her breath: "You'd think it would leave a slime trail or something."

Bertha was dragged along the pavement for a few more minutes, then the ground became soft. Dirt? Was she in the city park? The worm slowed down, and she felt her orientation change suddenly while her vision went black. Instantly she processed what was happening. She was being dragged into a tunnel. Her right hand found an exposed root and grasped it for dear life. If she was pulled underground, she would never be found.

The worm seemed almost surprised by her sudden resistance. Its mouth slid up her body to her neck; shoulders free, Bertha was able to swing her left arm over and grab the root, doubling her resistance. The worm pulled, but the woman was running on pure, desperate adrenaline. Her neck strained as her arms and the worm pulled it in opposite directions, but slowly she was getting free. 

With a wet shlorp her head popped free. Bertha was catapulted forward, yelping triumphantly, and landed on her chest. Knowing the creature was still right behind her, she scrambled to her hands and knees and looked up. She froze.

The ground was littered with huge tunnels. A "Raccoon Park" sign was strangely untouched. And there were dozens of the creatures. "Worms" was the right description: they vaguely resembled massively overgrown earthworms, dozens of meters long and definitely wide enough to swallow a human. Their skin was translucent and tan; in one seemingly uninterested worm, just a couple feet from her, was a bulge immediately recognized as a man. He was still moving.

Bertha took off running. She couldn't see the streets, she had no idea where in the park she was, but anyplace had to be better than here. She made it only a few feet before something slammed into her from behind. A big, slimy form pinned her legs to the ground and wrapped around her head, again. 

"NOOOOOOO!" she howled in frustration. Her leather-clad breasts jutted out and her spine arched painfully as she was pulled to her knees. "DON'T EAT MEEEEEE!"

"Schneider! Where are you?" Lupo called over the radio.

"I'M I'M I'M IN THE PARK. HEEELP!"

"Just stay calm! We're on our way."

Bertha was too terrified to respond. The worm had gotten past her shoulders with record speed and had once again gotten stuck at her chest, but this time its efforts were being aided by gravity and the ground. It was no longer sitting on her legs, but its weight on her torso was enough to keep her pinned to her knees. Her legs slowly slid apart in a kneeling splits, removing her leverage completely until all she could do was flail her arms uselessly. 

Bertha's mind clouded with pain from the constricting of her breasts as the ground slowly pushed her into the worm. Her legs were pushed so far apart she felt like she was going to split down the middle, but she could do nothing to move them. She cried out as with one final effort the worm completely engulfed her bosom, the tight gullet painfully crushing the ample mounds.

It was over. Her arms were pinned to her sides as the worm easily made its way down her narrow waist. It lifted her into the air, legs kicking and flailing, her hips and ass slowly sliding down its gullet. She kicked until the worm's grip on her thighs made such movement impossible.

"No no no no no no no," she shouted as the worm steadily gulped down her legs. The mouth closed around her booted feet and Bertha was gone too the world.

The German woman screamed in terror as the worm's muscles pushed her deeper and deeper inside the worm. She felt like she was in some giant vice, her arms crushed to their breaking point against her sides, her legs so tightly pressed together that she couldn't move a single muscle, her large breasts flattened against her body. About the only thing she could do was breathe, but it was such a tight fit that even that was painful. 

Bertha thought back to high school biology. It held a special place in her heart, as it was her first dissection. Dissecting things and people had turned into a lifelong passion. Worms had a storage chamber, called the crop, then it was onto the gizzard where a combination of rocks, muscles, and acids turned the food into paste. Not fun. She tried the radio.

"Lupo! Four Eyes! What's your location?!" No answer. "L-listen guys, come on, you can't just leave me. Karen? Christine?" For the first time in as long as she could remember, she began crying. "Karen? Please help me. Please."

She began sobbing as the truth hit her. Her comrades had seen the mass of worms, and decided she wasn't worth the effort. Her pleas were bothering them so they'd cut her communication link. Psychopathy was a lot less fun when you were on the other end.

"Fuck you guys," she sobbed, "Fuck you. SOMEBODY! HELP ME!"

Help wasn't coming. Bertha knew she was going to die here, alone, eaten alive by a worm. She screamed and struggled as best she could until she was exhausted and just lay there. She wasn't dead yet, so she must have been in the crop. And there wasn't any light seeping through, so the worm must have moved underground. She'd been trapped for what felt like hours. She was ten feet inside a giant worm, possibly miles from any living human. It was hopeless.

Soon she was moved a few more feet into a chamber filled with rocks. The gizzard. Immediately she felt a burning sensation on her exposed scalp and ears. "Oh my god. Oh my god."

It quickly turned into an agonizing, burning pain. Her outfit offered protection from the digestive enzymes but was not watertight, and the caustic fluid found its way down her collar and coated her chest and abs. The powerful, muscular walls churned and flexed, breaking her arms like twigs. Hard, sharp stones smashed her legs like hammers and tore gashes in her protective leather clothes.

Bertha howled in blind agony, the hard plastic of her air-tight gas mask only serving to prolong her death. The acids ate away at her once-gorgeous breasts until the half-melted mounds were pulped by a particularly violent contraction that also shattered most of her ribs. A rock broke her spine and she became mercifully numb to the acids eating away at her most sensitive regions.

Cracks were spreading across the German woman's gas mask as it was steadily smashed apart. Soon a stone shattered it completely, filling Bertha's with plastic shards as the stomach muscles enthusiastically coated the newly-exposed flesh in acids. Her final scream was choked off as the fluids raced down her throat and began disintegrating her from the inside. 

Satisfied, the worm curled up in a corner of the tunnel, deep under the earth. The t-virus had not made it particularly intelligent, and it didn't register when its latest meal stopped wriggling inside it. The virus had, however, given it a voracious appetite and a fast metabolism. It would only be hours before it would hunt again. It hacked the tattered remains of a leather outfit and a broken plastic mask, the only remains of Michaela Schneider.