Things long forgotten are stirring, eager to balance the scales and repay insults men have lost to the years. The undead have come home to Jersey, and not just the ancient Bon Jovi fans.
I turn to face the zombies who have cornered me in the alleyway, cutting off my escape. I start to scream when they begin to consume me alive.
Benny hunted ghouls in the Shriners’ cemetery, doubting they existed. When a Fez tassel slapped his face and a corpse gnawed on his skull he believed, briefly.
Giant Undead Babies. Sounds Interesting…