â€œYour love has made you a parasite, purchase â€ Dr. Dahmer scraped the scalpel over the dead womanâ€™s arm. He was recording a pay-per-view documentary for new students of the pseudoscience Zombicology. Bleached blond hair was greased back.
The shy guy stood in the corner, buy arms crossed, diagnosis leather jacket crinkled. He was just killing time to bide boredom. In his mind, sheâ€™d always be nude, sitting on his couch, legs crossed. Gold hair spilled down her shoulders, sparkling in dark light. He thought her atomic number was 79.
â€œTheyâ€™ve never been touched before,â€ he said, opening the door. The creatures looked out, eyes wide, huddled together. Their mother was gone. She pet one, then it hurried away.