I think I’ve been dead for a while now.
I can’t remember how I died because my clothes have multiple knife wounds, bullet holes, and my wrists are marked with bite marks from someone, all covered in messy blood…
Oh, right, I also noticed that my exposed arm has several cuts, probably from scraping against barbed wire, but these are neat and probably occurred after death, so they’re not fatal.
Um… the last sentence seems to be awkwardly phrased.
But I’m dead now, so why worry about such things.
I don’t remember what I used to do, maybe I was a lowly store clerk or a janitor; definitely not a white-collar worker because these clothes are torn and definitely not a suit.
In fact, I don’t care at all about what I used to do, how I died, or whether I had family, friends, or relatives.
The only thing I feel now is hunger.
A gnawing hunger.
I sway along with a group of people around me, not sure why we must walk this way; it looks so foolish.
I tried to adjust my walking posture, but found it a bit uncontrollable.
Then I heard some murmurs from nearby.
I don’t know the names of those hideous creatures staring at me. Damn, I don’t even remember my own name, but I think they were mocking me, with my swaying and exaggerated arm movements while I tried to correct my walking posture.
As if they walked so gracefully.
I felt like I rolled my eyes, but they didn’t react, so I couldn’t be bothered and just continued moving forward with the main group.
Occasionally, we hear the sounds of objects clattering from the shops along the road, though most of the time it’s just broken windows letting the wind blow in.
That causes discarded cans and such to make noise, but we always pass by.
This is quite a waste of time—this reflex mechanism.
Oh, and we still have many reflexes, besides sound, light, smell, temperature, and so on.
For example, we never eat our own kind, probably because we have no warmth and smell terrible.
The smell of death.
Perhaps because this smell is so strong, we are especially sensitive to the smells associated with survival.
But I seem to have an additional reflex.
If it’s not because I’m abnormal, it’s probably because that thing reflects light.
There’s a person on it.
To be precise, it’s half a person. The legs are out of sight, and the upper body is about twice as large as mine?
No warmth, no smell, flat, but looks very three-dimensional. The person has white skin, hair combed back, exposing a full forehead, thick eyebrows, double eyelids, light brown eyes with black pupils, a straight nose, and light pink lips. Hmm… like that cat that startled us last time?
He’s smiling.
He’s wearing a white shirt, stained with blood and mud towards the lower part.
But overall, he still looks clean.
It’s rare to see someone so clean while scavenging for food.
I tried to approach him once but couldn’t bite him.
The box that holds him is cold and hard.
So, whenever I get the chance, I don’t go near him anymore and just take a distant look.
It’s big, reflecting sunlight, very dazzling.
Also a bit out of place in this gray, desolate city.
The murmurs ahead brought my attention back, and I started moving my feet to catch up with my group.
The advantage of walking further behind is that if our food includes something that makes a lot of noise, my survival rate should be a bit higher.
Strange…
Why do I keep thinking about survival issues when I’m already dead?
Eating, maintaining this state, seems to be the only goal for us corpses.
I don’t know when I started considering this a goal; maybe it was always like this from the beginning or maybe it started in some room where I suddenly developed this goal and then began noticing many things around me.
Of course, they often seem more like obstacles.
To get to the other side of the city, we can’t walk straight but must wander along those unfortunate buildings and planned streets.
It’s really not a good thing.
Because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this person for the second time today.
I’m a bit annoyed, maybe because I’m hungry.
Why hasn’t the food wandering the streets shown up yet?
I feel like I could eat a lot now, a brain, a piece of chest muscle, and half a liver.
I don’t know why so many zombie movies describe us as loving to eat intestines; they taste terrible. If given a choice, I would absolutely avoid eating that stuff.
The sun is strong, and I’ve finally walked past a place I hadn’t reached today, and then I smelled a strong stench of decay.
It smells terrible, but it’s not to the point where I need to cover my nose.
I think my own smell might be slightly better but limited?
That strong stench of decay only means one thing.
They’ll soon turn into a skeletal version, moving a bit faster, and looking even uglier.
In fact, I bet there are many upgraded zombies in that fence.
They get hungrier than I do.
It’s better to leave quickly, or even if I find food, it will definitely be taken by those guys.
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