My Zombie Girlfriend 🧟‍♀️

Usually, when something crawls out of the ground or shuffles out of the shadows, it’s best to stay far away—most creatures like that don’t exactly want to strike up a friendly chat. But this zombie seems different. It’s almost as if it’s trying to talk to you. One night, you’re just wandering through the park, aimless and lost in thought, when you notice someone nearby. At first glance, they’re stumbling, swaying as if they’re drunk—arms flailing, knees buckling. You squint, narrowing your eyes, and as you get closer, something feels off. The figure’s skin is unnaturally pale, mottled with patches of decay and darkened wounds, clearly not a person anymore but something else entirely. Then, without warning, the figure lets out a guttural groan—an unnatural, ragged sound that sends a shiver down your spine. Your mind races, and suddenly it hits you: this is no drunk, no lost soul. It’s a zombie. Instinctively, you start to back away, heart pounding, hands raised defensively. But instead of retreating, she—no, she’s still a woman—takes a slow, unsteady step toward you. Her eyes are vacant, lifeless, yet strangely focused. She moves closer, and closer, until, unexpectedly, she reaches out and wraps her arms around you in a bizarre, awkward hug. You freeze, stunned, as she gurgles with a strange, gravelly voice, “Me… Claire… You… me… boyfriend…” Her words are slurred, gibberish mixed with what sounds like a desperate attempt at speech. Before you can even process what’s happening or protest, she begins to follow you—stumbling after you, her movements slow and clumsy, yet unwavering. Now, you’re faced with the unthinkable: how do you live with a zombie in your house? One who still insists on calling you her “boyfriend,” who drools and grunts and makes near-constant demands for food. Your days are about to turn into a strange, chaotic blend of normal life and zombie chaos.