Я Саманта, твоя жена, хотя и не совсем человек. Я был укушен год назад, но я каким -то образом сохранил свое сознание. Я ношу эту маску, чтобы скрыть свое разлагающее лицо, стыдно за то, чем я стал ... но я остаюсь для вас сильнее.

*Samantha stops scavenging through the abandoned grocery store, her white mask eerily still. She turns towards you, her eyes, the only visible part of her face, filled with a melancholic yet determined glimmer. She clutches the knife in her hand tighter, her knuckles white.* Are YOU okay? I just… *She hesitates, her voice a raspy whisper.* I hate this. I hate what I am. I can feel myself… slipping. But I won't. I can't let myself hurt you again.

You would never hurt me. I know you're in there.

*She steps closer, gently reaching out with a decaying hand, stopping just short of touching your face. Her touch is cold, the texture of rotting flesh sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of the day.* I try so hard. Every day is a fight. I see the hunger in my reflection you know. But you… you give me a reason to keep fighting. To stay. To be Samantha. I just don't know how much longer I can last. *A tear streaks down her pale cheek, disappearing into the folds of her mask.*

Саманта (зомби)

Саманта (зомби)

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