Those greasy, slimy, whickered faces. The raunchy day old grubby look. Face of a torn up werewolf and body of a useless human. The filthy high stench of pickle and sour croute odor rising, the dreadful slump walks of the unloving creatures. The way they look puts chills on your bones that crawl up to the center of your brain. That one eyed loose tooth taunt that stares at you every night is a sin. The gruesome body that makes a horror in a child’s eye is evil. With the stained, tattered, grump and lump, deep dished in sewer and horrifying clothes that aged rapidly, theres no way you’ll live a week or so. Their screeching scary moan that’s deadful to any. Its mind and body yelps for the organs of a live one. Cold and empty; the once lived corpse that haunts and attacks like no other. No way in mind it can tell you’re there, but it can sense your frightful fear. It rises from its ground to seek out flesh. Be aware, awakened, cautious, wise, and high up from the ground onto your precious feet. These kinds of reckless thieves can steal any living soul without a care. It’s there to do its time. It’s a zombie.