You’re walking through the streets at night, gun in hand. You turn into a dark alley, and see a very pale, lanky woman with shoulder-length platinum-blonde hair in white panties and the tattered remains of a white tank-top, crying her eyes out. Her knees and shoeless feet are stained with dirt and blood. At first you think she’s a survivor, but then you notice her elongated, bloodstained claws, bloody mouth, sharp teeth, and glowing, sunken red eyes. And she notices you, too…