Part 6: The Factory

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#6 of Deep in Kansas

As Amanda finally finds the chains needed to take some zombies with her, she discovers another mystery. A factory underneath a Butcher's shop.


Fortunately for the horse, she eventually found a set of chains, albeit in a butcher's place. Upon entering, she was surprised to find it large enough to house someone of her size. Unfortunately for the Indagator, nothing was ever easy for her. Inside hung dead farm animals, suspended from a hook. Some had been cut open and left in the air to rot. Others had been cut into chunks of meat. Some of the meat deteriorated similarly, while others were freshly cut.

Amanda noted how she had not seen anything recently enter or leave. Carefully she pulled out her pistol. While the house was large enough for someone of her size. It was not big enough for her to wield her blade. Luckily, there was not much inside. As there was only a large counter with two doorways behind it.

As she walked further inside, the floorboard beneath her creaked. She could feel the wood flex unnaturally. Like most of the construction on the farm, none was ever designed for anthros like her. Being a thousand, hell being drastically more enormous than anyone else with the leviathan gene, has consequences. Was the thought which crossed her mind.

Stepping further inside, she felt the floorboards groan, creak, and screech in outrage at her ridiculous weight. Although her assets constant roil, churn, and glorp. Overwhelmed her sensitive hearing. Due to this, she could not tell when the floor was about to give. She fell through the floor in the middle of the room, cracking the stone beneath her hooves when she landed.

Pain shot up her ankles; she felt them on the verge of breaking. Luckily, as an Indagator, she had uncanny resilience, preventing the inevitable. She took a moment to stand back up after she had fallen. The room she had fallen into was vastly more extensive than the butcher's shop. Now she could move around inside with her blade.

The only light dribbling in was from the butcher's shop. Her supernatural eyesight quickly adjusted, and soon the inky blackness turned over to a daytime scene despite the nighttime conditions. She found many zombies, human, and anthro working on some corpses. Behind them was a vast pile of corpses and body parts.

It was meticulously sorted to have body parts in their own separate piles while mostly whole corpses were left in another. Amanda's over-sensitive sense of smell hit her like a bowling ball to the face. The smell practically knocked her off her hooves by the rancid smell dozens of rotting corpses produced. She quickly covered her nose; the Indagator realized she'd need a few moments as she adjusted to the overwhelming scents.

Shaking her head, she took another look at her surroundings and found a production line composed of mostly stony tables where a zombie worked on a single corpse. Examining the line, she could make out two separate lines. One started with a torso, the other started with a mostly whole body. Each seemed to have their own quality check as the zombies peered at various body parts poking and prodding them in multiple areas.

Amanda noted that depending on the result of their tests, they'd either toss the part onto a separate pile or hand them off to the next zombie. The next zombie would slowly gather some parts handed to them and begin sowing them together. Taking a close look at the table, Amanda noted a particular inscription with an equation with circles and some lines drawn in a specific structure.

She noted it to be glowing. When they finish, the zombie leave the newly constructed zombie on the table for a brief moment until the inscription stops glowing. Then the zombie on the table sits up and walks off the table. It stopped when it saw Amanda and attacked her.

"Shit!" She stated aloud. Quickly she drew her blade, side-stepped, and cut the zombie's head off. The others seemed unphased as they continued, like a clockwork, building more zombies. Soon Amanda would find herself killing zombie after zombie. I need to disrupt this production line. As she slew the last zombie, she created a massive shockwave in front of her, blasting everything back.

The construction zombies got back up and went to their individual workstations, resuming their job unchanged. I guess I'll have to kill them. She paused momentarily until she recalled the chains she had found. I can tie a few together and kill the rest. Quickly, the Indagator went and wrapped up several zombies in chains. She then threw them over her shoulder, thankful for her cloak, and killed the rest.

She waited a few seconds expecting some more to return but found none. No backups? She furrowed her brow, suspicious of how easy it was to put a zombie factory out of service. She lingered for a few more moments, then determining no one else would show up left. The Indagator had fallen through the floor and pondered how she'd get back up.

She searched around the cavern to find the regular entrance down. Amanda hoped she could take it back up, only to discover a trap door woefully undersized for her. Shit. She continued to search the cavern to find a tunnel leading out. Unfortunately, once again, her immense height would prevent her from utilizing it. With no other options, she decided to use the hole she had fallen through.

She looked around in hopes she could build a makeshift ladder or stairway up. The wood which had fallen through, she deduced, would be of no use. Peering at the scraps of wood, a thought struck her. I put on my special horseshoes. Why the hell did I fall through?! She quickly peered down at her hooves. Her cloak making it possible to see them. She stood on one leg, then lifted the other one as best as she could and gazed intently at the horseshoe.

Its inscription had faded. No longer was the dirt accumulated on the horseshoes cleared. Amanda swore. My horseshoes don't work anymore. Now armed with the knowledge of her entire weight no longer displaced, she made sure to be extra careful. After pondering for what felt like hours, the horse settled on a decision.

Amanda decided to generate a massive shockwave beneath her propelling her upwards. She knew it would be costly, as she would be no longer able to cast spells due to mental exhaustion. But, seeing no other way out, she readied herself.

Feeling the energy around her, she gathered as much as possible and fired herself up out of the hole. As it turned out, she used too much and fired herself straight out of the roof.

"FUUUUUCK!" She screamed atop her lungs as she tumbled toward the Earth with a massive thump, like a tank falling from the sky. She could practically feel every bone inside her break from the force.

"Ow." She firmly stated.

"Amanda?!" She heard the familiar voice of the fox. She listened as the fox quickly ran to her.

"Oh my God! Amanda! Are you all right?!" The fox knelt down beside the horse.

"I just launched myself 10 meters into the air and hit the ground with my full mass. All my bones are broken, and I'm not sure I can move anymore. I am not okay." She coldly stated.

"Sorry! Sorry! Is there anything I can do?!" The fox panicked.

"Yes. Reach into my cloak; my sword strap has slots for potions; grab the topmost one and pour it down my mouth."

The fox frantically nodded and reached into Amanda's cloak, only for her hand to be consumed in a matter of moments by a single colossal boob. She immediately pulled her hand back out.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Just get the damned potion! Think I give an ounce of a shit grabbing my tits like that?! They're fucking huge! It's physically impossible not to touch them! Just go!"

"Yes, ma'am!" In her panicked state, the fox continued to search inside Amanda's cloak. "Oh my God! Are these tits or steel?!"

"Just search for the potion! You think after hearing my tits, they wouldn't be as tight as they were! I have to constantly milk them! Otherwise, I would flood the world in minutes!"

"Why are you shouting?!"

"Because a dozen zombies are bearing down on us right now! Get that damned potion already!"

The fox looked up to find a slowly bumbling horde of zombies making their way toward them.

"Get the potion!" The horse shouted.

"Yes! Yes!" The fox continued rummaging around Amanda's stuffed tits. She could tell the fox was having a hard time, given the sheer tightness of her breasts made it almost impossible to squish her hand between them. Eventually, she prevailed, unearthing a small green potion bottle. Quickly she poured it down Amanda's mouth. She coughed and sputtered.

"Not so fast, dammit!"

"Sorry! Sorry!"

Amanda felt her bones mend back together, and her body rapidly repaired itself. Soon she was able to stand up again.

"Get behind me!" She shouted at the fox as she unsheathed her blade with a twirl. The zombies changed their pace from lumbering to a full-on sprint; Amanda stepped aside, pushing the fox with her, and removed its head. Another attacked shortly afterward; she spun around the zombie, decapitated it while narrowly missing the fox.

"Angela, hang onto something inside my cloak. It'll be safer there!"

Angela, terrified, as she was almost skewered by the Indagator, complied. The horse felt the fox latch onto her titanic nutsack. She knew the fox would find it hard to grip, as it too, similar to her breasts, was drum-tight. Still, Amanda could feel fox making do somehow.

She ran straight into the zombies, spinning and twirling like a ballerina avoiding their attacks and returning some of her own. Her elegant dance, trained, and honed over a century showed her to be a fighter like none other. Soon all the zombies had been dispatched, and she'd hardly broken a sweat.

"Is it safe?" She found it hard to hear the fox's voice between the muffling of her cloak and the rumble and roil of her assets.

"Yes. The zombies are dead for now."

"What?" The fox yelled.

"It's safe!" She shouted in response.

The fox slid off the side of Amanda's balls and walked out from underneath her cloak.

"I can hardly hear a thing!" The fox was loud. "How do you live like that?!"

"By loving my body and myself." The horse firmly responded in a steady voice. "I'm proud of it."

"What?!"

"Proudly!"

"Oh! Okay!"

Amanda unslung the zombies she had chained to see if they were intact. She swore. The zombies had been reduced to a large red splotch all across the back of her cloak.

"What's that horrid smell?!"

"Zombies!"

The Indagator looked over her chained zombies to see if anything was redeemable. Luckily for her, their heads had remained miraculously intact.

"Come on, Angela! We've got zombies to track!"

"What?!"

"We're tracking zombies!" Amanda yelled atop her lungs.