Anonymous He was called. Draped in black with a shadow that never seemed to leave his face. His hands covered in black leather, a large overcoat disguising his figure. His hat brim sat low on his forehead, angled downward.
Anonymous. It wasn’t his name it was his persona. The man who lived in the shadows and vacationed in the sewers. He cocked his gun. He screwed on the silencer. Walking down the alley behind the lovely blond in a backless dress. He raised the gun. His steps were silent. He let his finger slide down the trigger, her head bobbing with every step.

She stopped.

He froze. She turned around, her face red with rage, eyes glowing red, her flesh began to boil and peel to the ground. She tore out her hair in clumps with long skinny hands. Her fingernails were sharp and long, as were her teeth. She began to run at him, strafing back and forth down the alley, her beauty gone, left behind in a pile of decomposing flesh.

He fired. Twice.

“Damn Zombies” He said

She slid face first into his shoes