Apologetic Canadian Zombie

Well friends, here’s a zombie who has happily resolved his identity crisis.
I have come to terms with what I am.

I am a zombie.
I bite and devour people.
Sorry about that, but that’s the way it is.

I tried to deny it for a time. Didn’t think this should be my nature. Wanted to join the non-violent zombie coalition – thought that would make me more pure, would guarantee my redemption.

Would you be surprised to learn that living a lie brought me no joy? Suppressing my urges and trying to be a nice zombie was no fun at all. Oh, there were those who applauded my efforts, who shouted loudly to remain strong. I tried to convince myself that this lonely existence was the upright path. But I was miserable, envious of others I saw who lapsed.

Then with the dawning of a new day, I surrendered to the craving for gore. I slunk through the shadows lunging at prey. I bit openly. I feasted wantonly. One human, a fellow zombie who had received a cure, tried to shame me. She had endured hunger and found redemption. Her rebukes cut me. Had I surrendered too willingly after all? Why this unease just when I was having fun?

Like is slowly expanding cloud of gas, realization crept over me. I am Canadian. I am polite. I am apologetic even when others bump me.   No wonder I was conflicted playing the badass zombie. For the rest of the game it’s going to be, “Excuse me, may I #bite you? Sorry!” and, “Thank you; your flesh is most delicious.”  I am the polite, Apologetic Canadian Zombie.