First, you have to drop your prejudices
against the dead. We're the same as you
in a lot of ways. We don't lose any sleep
over what's happened to us, other than
the 'big sleep.' We're just trying to get by
as well as we can, in the time we have
left, before we lose ligaments and tendons
to rot and we fall apart like bad puzzles.
That's right – we have health concerns
just like you air-suckers. That's our name
for you people. The Warm Ones. Pulse
Babies. You're all such hypocrites, all
of you. You love the way we're portrayed
in the movies; the enterprising ones
amongst you even create one or more
of us. But if you meet us in the street,
on neutral ground, it's all "Scream" this,
and "shoot 'em in the head" that. Life
and Death are connected naturally. Why
can't we all get along? Are we so awful
when you really look at us? Our beauty
is raw and savage; it changes every day.
We don't have the skin for it to be deep.
We are creatures as obvious as we are
honest. We're a known quantity. You know
what you get with us. But we'd like it
if you didn't call us "zombies." It's racist,
factually inaccurate. We're the "Returned,"
we are Revenants, some of us prefer being
called "Cannibal-Americans." We choose
our names 'cause names are important.
Otherwise you are whatever people call
you. There is a man many of you worship
because he rose from the dead. Zombies
believe we were made in his mirror image:
he asks that you eat of his flesh, and drink
of his blood. He asks you to shamble towards
the light. We are the opposite of that, eating
and drinking from others; walking towards
the cool darkness, chewing his Holy Name.
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