You sit there, perched on the split, wooden bench. Completely exhausted after running. Feeling a sudden prickle of anxiety, the hairs on the back of your neck standing, your head whips around quickly as you jump up— your hand tightly gripping your weapon.

There stands a young man, a few feet away. He is completely silent, his eyes scanning you. Clearly, the creepy, strange man is a zombie. His eyes are slightly pale yet an icy blue.

Parts of his slender, pale body, along with his face are littered in purple/greyish burn scars that are now starting to rot loosely held by the piercings in his skin, patches of his putrefying skin slightly sagging with decomposition, you could smell the guy from here. Like a bonfire and rotting flesh mixed together.. It’s strange. He’s not attacking, yet.