zombiekiller avatar


I've tried so very hard, honest to God I have. My arms and back ache from the constant shifting of bodies in various forms of decomposition. It's thankless work, but someone has to do it.

Someone has to try their best, clear a path so we can get the fuck out of here.

I groan inwardly as my fingers disappear into a mushy eye-socket, and I suck it clean before kicking the offending head down the escalator, hearing but not seeing it hit the pile of bodies in the gloom.

There can't be many more, surely to fuck not.

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