Start with the older fear, the one that has nothing to do with appetite. A person dies. That is bad, but it is not the worst of it. The body gets up again, not because it is hungry, but because it now belongs to someone else. It works, It obeys. It goes where it is sent, and the one thing it cannot do is leave. That is where the zombie begins, and it is a quieter horror than the one we print on lunchboxes now. Nobody is being eaten. Somebody is …
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