Petra sat alone in front of her flickering screen, the silence of the house heavy around her. It was her birthday. The day should have been filled with laughter and cupcakes, but instead, it served as a reminder of the tragedy that struck last year.

She typed an email, pouring her heart out to the one man she had lost long ago—her true love, Jonathan. They had found each other online and confessed the were still star-crossed lovers. The notes between them were happening

It’s funny how the world works - just when she thought she lost everything ...she had found Jonathan.

Then one night, Petra got the urge to look at her husband Zeddie's phone. It's easy to say it was probably guilt that made her think his phone was dirty for it was her phone that was filled with tawdry notes to Jonathan.

That's when she saw the text from a private investigator on Zeddie's phone. She realized Zeddie was asking him to help him catch Petra cheating.

Her husband had been acting strange lately. His paranoia had grown like a weed. The investigator was supposed to hunt down any signs of infidelity. Instead, Petra found herself using that information to escape. She bought a ticket and flew 6000 miles to Jonathan, clinging to hope like a lifeline.

When she arrived, something was wrong immediately. Jonathan wasn't there to greet her. A note awaited her in her luggage when she picked it up from the gate. Chilling her to the bone. It read: “You shouldn’t have come, Petra.” The hairs on her neck bristled.

***

Meanwhile, Zeddie paced the floor of their living room, his heart pounding with dread. First he called her mother, "Do you know where Petra has gone?" He asked her, but her mother was suspicious of Zeddie because he hadn't invited her to their wedding rehearsal dinner.

Anger fueled his thoughts. He needed answers. Zeddie’s focus sharpened. He couldn’t let paranoia cloud his senses. He pored over every detail: the investigator notes, his memories, all the little clues. A sick thought crossed his mind.

***

Waiting at the pick-up for hours, Petra tried to calm herself. She picked up her phone, hoping for a sign from Jonathan. Instead, all she got was silence. Hours passed, stretching into an eternity and she finally hailed an Uber to go to the location that had been arranged between her and Jonathan. The cabin in the woods where they first necked and played Monopoly late into the night. She could already hear the creaking of the wood floor there, the scent of cedar walls.

She punched the code in that Jonathan had given her and flipped on the lights. After finding the cabin empty, she used the groceries in the kitchen to cook an omelete and have some cocoa, even finding a dash of cayenne to add to it ...just like she and Jonathan had last time they were there 11 years ago.

Suddenly, a soft knock echoed through the cabin.

“Jonathan?” she called peering into the door's peephole, her voice suddenly shaky as she realized the danger she had put herself in. No response.

Instead, a shadow crossed the window. It loomed larger, closer, a grotesque shadow that brought cold fear into the her veins. Panic surged through her. This was not what she had imagined. She should have been with Jonathan by now, but instead, she realized she might be in a trap.

The figure outside never moved. She glanced towards the door. Should she open it? Or should she hide? Her instincts screamed to flee.

She decided. She had to escape.

As she dashed through the back window, she caught a glimpse of the shadow. It wasn’t human. It was a zombie, it was it's own chilling cacophony of groans.

Petra’s heart raced. She ran deeper into the woods but the zombie came for her, its nails clawing at her skin. She tore away and sprinted, lungs searing, but something gnawed at her mind.

***

Zeddie texted the investigator. “I need you to find her. Now.”

“Calm down, Zeddie,” the private detective replied coolly. “I think I’ve found your wife.”

“Where?”

“She’s with Jonathan at the Bloody Creek Cabin. But there’s something... strange going on there, seems a set-up. Someone in costume is chasing her.”

"She might be in danger," Zeddie texted back to the private investigator. "That Jonathan is her ex-lover and he's a very deranged man.”

***

Petra stumbled into the clearing, breathless. The zombie was closing in. Her eyes widened in horror—this wasn't just an accident; it was a twisted game set up by Zeddie. Zeddie wasn’t looking for the truth. He was going to punish her.

Desperately, she hid in a brush hole and reached for her phone. She slid her fingers into the wet folds of her pussy to masturbate herself to stay calm. She tapped on her phone - she needed to warn Jonathan, but the battery blinked an ominous red. No signal.

The fear crawled over her - what if Jonathan came. She flicked her finger up and down the wet slit, the thrill of it all had her sopping her panty.

A figure appeared, standing firm. It was Jonathan. She instinctually spread her legs and wished to take all of him in her. He raised a weapon, a gleam of metal aimed right at the zombie.

“Run, Petra!” he shouted to the air, for he was not sure where she was.

But Petra stayed still, if she was going to die..she was going to do it in orgasm. A chilling laugh echoed through the trees. it was the moment she had come to realize was going to happen.

Zeddie stepped into the clearing, a smirk plastered across his face. He tore his zombie face off to face Jonathan.

“Did you really think you could escape from me, Petra," Zeddie asked the air and Petra breathed a small sight of relief as she realized he wasn't quite sure where she was hiding.

And her clit began to throb and swell like a fresh rose in bloom as she watched, both men fight each other, desperation filling each swing.

With each thrust of fist against flesh, Petra was growing wetter. The reds and pinks on their cheeks from the punches had her lips quivering. In desperation she rammed a stick into herself and pulled it out to taste it, pausing to rub the wet pre-cum on her tits. It was everything she could long for, two men fighting over her, one her spouse wanting to kill her and her lover dying to fuck her. She put the wet stick up her ass and rode on it, taking comfort that her rabbit hole in the brush offered her full protection from them both.

In a moment of clarity, Petra understood. Zeddie was the private investigator. He'd made it look like he'd hired someone because he wanted to show up and make it seem Jonathan had killed her.

This wasn't just about her. This was Zeddie’s fear, his need to control. She was merely a pawn, caught in his deadly game. She held her breath as she orgasmed, picturing fully what she must do.

This night would end with bloodshed, but not the way Zeddie imagined.

In the struggle, she found the weapon. With one swift motion, she turned it on Zeddie.

And in that moment, she realized fear can become power.