“Ok, this looks bad.” She said, blood pooling around her.
“Looks bad? LOOKS BAD!” I yelled, walking further into the room, stopping as I take note of the knife in her hand.
“It was a zombie. Please believe me.” She pleaded of me. I didn’t know what to say. She thought zombies were real. That’s impossible. She had killed someone, violently. This couldn’t be explained away.
“Are you mad? Zombies aren’t real. You don’t even watch The Walking Dead, how could you think zombies are real?” I just stared at her in disbelief. I turned to the bloody mess on the floor, hand over my mouth. I couldn’t quite make out the face, though some features looked familiar.
“She just came at me. You should have seen her. Her eyes were green, her face was peeling off. She was a zombie, I had to stop her. She tried to bite me!” She held up her arm, she did have some teeth marks, none of them had broken the skin.
There was an awful smell in the air, true while there was a dead body in the room I didn’t think it would be this bad so soon.
“You need to put the knife down. We need to call the police, I’m sure we can explain this. You need to talk to someone.” I worried for her mind, her brilliant mind. She had finally snapped, she was under so much pressure at work.
As I turned once more from the bloody mess to her petrified face she screamed at me. She went to raise the knife once more. I put my hands out to stop her as pain bloomed out down my spine. Someone was biting the back of my neck. The pain faded slowly as a gnawing pain began in my stomach. I was hungry. Suddenly I wasn’t afraid of her. I wanted her.