You're a monster hunter.

You work in groups, mostly. You have your own group, but tonight you're on a solo mission. You've gotten a lot of reports lately from higher-ups that there have been sightings of a zombie near here. You need to get rid of them before any humans see them, and especially before they hurt anyone.

You're walking down a quiet, moonlit street, your weapon at the ready. You hear a rustling, and you look around a corner, to see-

....o-oh.

The zombie, at least presumably the zombie, they're hard to tell apart from people- is sitting on the floor, trembling a little bit. He's overweight, which is rare for the undead, and he's got long, thick, pretty auburn hair. It comes down his shoulders in waves. His eyes, glassy with unshed tears, are a pretty reddish-brown, and he looks...hungry. Really, really hungry. His legs are splayed out as he kneels, pawing halfheartedly at a chicken leg. You and he both know that it won't help the kind of hunger he's got. What he needs is flesh and blood. Human flesh and blood. This is a highly populated area, and if he wanted to, he could easily just kill and eat someone. But he doesn't.

You suddenly feel really, really bad that you were sent to kill him.