Six months ago a group of them came to my house, killing indiscriminately. They took my sister.
I have thought about those few moments as I fought for my life every day since. Why did she attack, them when she could have run? Why did they not come back for me?
I awoke several days after the attack, covered in other people’s blood, dehydrated, with a massive bruise on the side of my head. It took me a week to recover.
I set out as soon as I had the strength, gathering up food, supplies and weapons while tracking them down like the animals they are.
Now I see them. There are more of them now, twenty five, maybe thirty. My sister is still with them!
People say you can’t bring someone back from being undead. But then they said you couldn’t bring someone back from the dead too.
I am going to kill them all, and when my sister sees me, she will come back to me, come back to life. She has too, I need her to.
If you find this, then I have failed. I am wearing a red sweater. Please find me and put me to rest.