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Chapter 12: _ New Look, Same Me
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... ed about. They're predictable—slow-moving, mindless. They don't come for me. I'm undead, sure, but I'm not like them.
I'm still... me. And that makes all the difference.
I see a few of them lurking in the distance. The zombie's hideous bodies twitch, some dragging limbs like they're still trying to figure out what they were supposed to be doing.
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As I approach, they glance up, but there's no reaction. No hunger in their eyes for me. I ...
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