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Some said it started in Peru, others said China. Still other just said it was the curse of God; the final apocalypse. Most people just died in their ignorance; only to come back to life as those things. It started small, patient zero and it spread. By the time it made the news it was too late. Air travel. The modern connivance had spread the disease? Virus? Curse from God? Science never figured out what it was in time before they too died, one by one, to return as those things. The only thing that was constant was when you died; you came back to life in a few minutes maybe, an hour. Your new life was not much beyond the quest for living food. The dead were never much interested in the dead but if it was alive they wanted to eat it. It took years of killing. The war waged on. The living, the Ving were losing. They could not stop dying. Until some scientist somewhere did just that. He took a zombie, the Zombs, and crafted a potion from it. That worked so well with only a minor side effect, craving cupcakes... only too well. Now the living cannot die either, and dead well they don’t stop either. That potion crossed over and the Zombs, well they stopped being mindless eating machines, or at least some did. The small town of Mainville, was transformed from a sleepy bedroom community into ground zero in this epic stuggle between the Vings and the Zombs All they can do now is struggle for survival and try to find a place where they can live, mayhap exist, somehow...
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