text: [Themes: horror, horror, zombie, female protagonist]
  
  The mysterious night is full of sounds and smells new to you, the human senses are so simple.
  
  The corpses are cold and hard without the tender and soft tenderness of the bodies in heat. However, there is a hardness and rigidity, pressing your burning flesh and sweat all over his manhood.
  
  Your mind surpassed by wild emotions, you feel as your spirit is navigating through another world of heavenly sensations, as you move up and down to the beat of your heart feeling like your breathing follows the song older than the world.
  
  Your body explodes with a pleasure beyond what you have experienced.
  
  As your passion, unfolds, your magical snakes puncture with their teeth into the inert member by releasing the seeds of your infection into the poison. Your gift, nature's redeeming seed.
  
  You wait for a little until the corpse starts to twisting and shaking. The colour return to his flesh and the damaged area is regenerating.
  
  In barely one minute, He heavily rises from the scorched earth with a single thought in his mind to kill and infect without mind, without ratiocination, only a destructive and drooling force walking along the California trail, sniffing the air in search of a victim.
  
  A lustful smirk appears in your face, you ate tired and sweaty but excited with the idea of repeating the pleasure with the 4 beefy remaining corpses.
  
  > wait to a new caravan arrive to infect it
  Time goes by so slowly, you are starting to feel in your mind the connection with the zombies that you have created.
  
  You are like a queen bee, the only will of the hive mind. However, even if you have your useful soldiers, what you need are workers,as only females can create more, recruits spreading your sacred infection over the land.
  
  You can see it crystal clear thanks to the eternal wisdom of the Wrath Goddess. A world without the white men butchers, polluting the earth and breaking the balance of the heavens and the rivers.
  
  They poisoned our skies, raped our mines, stinging Mother Earth's stomach like wasps.
  
  Here it comes! I can hear a caravan from a kilometre away. and it has females, excellent guys, prepare for the ambush
  
  Of course, you don't even need to give a mental command, your mind is spiritually linked to your drones, every thought of yours is an unbreakable command to them.
  
  > stand in the middle of the road waving your arms.
  Three big wagons rattle back and forth due to being overweight, protecting the caravan from two cowboys armed with modern rifles. A strange itch possesses your body, boiling your blood and making you sweat with jets spreading your sexual pheromones all over the area.
  
  When the distance is right, you start screaming, pretending to panic:
  
  "Help, in the name of the Lord, please, assist!"
  
  the Dantesque vision of the accident with the horses and your wagon in black and broken. In addition to your half-naked screams of terror. Have one of the riders order the halt and the 3 carriages stop in front of you on the side of the road perfect for ambushes for your snake men.
  
  Three other men each get off their parents' carriage, probably from the cult. Not that you care. His appearance, his nationality means nothing compared to the glory of spreading corruption through this sacred land.
  
  "What happened?" says the closest man getting off the horse. the athletic complexion will serve you as a warrior
  
  You signal him to come closer and he does so totally confident. You can observe the effects of your pheromones on his body, you don't need anything else to kiss him and bite him, spreading your poison all over his body and drugging him to do your will.
  
  You watch the other three farm men old and sunk by decades of hard work from sunrise to sunset. One of them practically toothless. They are of no use to you except as food for your warriors.
  
  > kill them. You order him between whispers.
  "Kill them," you whisper to him. His body turns red and twists between screams for a few moments you can see how his whole body is trembling and fighting. He is trying to resist your order, but before the three farmers could say anything. He shoots once, then twice... and in less than two minutes all three lay down in the middle of the road.
  
  Your zombies ambush the other man's horse by knocking him to the ground before he could shoot his rifle.
  
  The rest of the scene is inevitable as the flow of the Truckee river itself. The three women begin to scream and try to take up arms. They all are sisters by marriage as all are wifes of the old man.
  
  "It is useless to unite my sisters to become Apostle of revenge and corruption.
  
  "Bitch, die!" The older woman tanned by the sun and her husband's belt points you with a well kept doubled barreled 12 gauge shotgun. while the zombies devour the three males useless for the hive.
  
  You smile happily knowing that you are The Hand of the Goddess in this land damaged by the white man.
  
  The shot rings out in miles as you laugh out loud looking at the exploded chunks of your stomach and intestines scattered around, leaving a visible skeleton.
  
  You scream feverish fervour: "Pain is a mere caress compared to the gift of my goddess."
  
  You keep laughing as the black snakes inside you creep up from your vagina and begin to rebuild your body, cell by cell. The
  terrorized younger woman faints, falling to the ground at the scene.
  
  "No." The desperate old woman yells while she points directly at her own head. She doesn't even hesitate for a moment, pressing the trigger at point-blank range. Her skull and brain explode in a rain of brains eyes that fall on the remains of her own husband as a kind of macabre side dish.
  
  In reality, it is indifferent the gift can resurrect anyone. In a few minutes, the only thing heard is the moans of your new three disciples riding without saddles to the two riders who will soon be two proud soldiers for your army.
  
  You enter the symbols of the false lord in one of the wagons and strip over the pathetic remains of those three men.
  
  It's been a good day.