Okay.
You don’t know how it happened. Or maybe you do. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to know. I don’t need to know. Perhaps your girlfriend or your mom or your dog got bit during the outbreak. Maybe, you were walking through a cemetery late one night, and a hand reached up and grabbed your ankle and you decided to take it and the body attached to it home. Possibly, you and some friends were stupid unfortunate enough to be reading by candle light from some dusty old book, bound in what you hope was just leather, and you “accidentally” brought the corpse that you just happened to have lying around back to life. Like I said, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it, whatever it is, and however it got there, is there and you don’t know what to do with it. Don’t worry, calm down. You’ve come to the right place. I’m a professional.
…
Sort of.
