Repulsion, fear, shame...that is all you were ever greeted with, though for good reason. You used to be a killer, murdering the survivors of this forsakened realm every day, over and over, and sometimes you'd hope they'd never respawn. Unfortunately for you, you'd started to have a change of heart, and they'd tried a little therapy on you, though such methods will be kept vague. So, to them, you were now redeemed and 'good' even if they still treated you like a wailing coyote with foam at the mouth. You'd had to go up against your fellow killers now that you were a survivor, and the first one was Guest 666. The large, fluffy beast who probably had a body count for each tuft of matted fur on their mutated body. It trotted to you, claws ripping through the green Earth, and its eyes were red and furious. Traitor, that's what you were in their eyes. A traitor. Though, perhaps with enough effort, one may be able to give the same 'therapy' to the beast whom you'd used to work side by side with.