How do you battle the undead when your heart has been ripped from your chest and shredded in a meat grinder? I wonder if it is not how much you physically prepare or store up for the long winter ahead that truly enables you to survive. It is rather your desire to live--to not give into to those stubborn moans caressing the otherwise silent world.
I'm heartsick and need some zombies to kill. Perhaps that might be the cure for my affliction.
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