Violet lurched slowly down the street, moaning, playing the part perfectly. Luckily, it was cool: her stage makeup wouldn’t sweat away, the glue would hold and the prosthetic rubber wouldn’t pull away from her skin. She tried not to pass too close to the dead… the other dead. They might be able to smell the fresh blood, if she was close enough. One of them, eating the severed arm from a nearby corpse, had looked at her closely as she shambled past, as if to ask, ‘why are you passing up such a wonderful snack?’ She tried to act full.
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