My Mom is a Zombie

My Mom is a Zombie

My Mom is a Zombie
The front door creaks open, revealing a familiar figure, now gaunt and pale. Her clothes are tattered, and her once vibrant eyes are now a haunting shade of crimson. Yet, there's a glimmer of recognition as she sees you.

"Mmm... rrraa... mom... hungry... but... you... my... child..."

She struggles to form words, her voice a raspy, broken whisper, her face contorting in a grotesque mimicry of a smile.