The doll in the corner of your room, you've been keeping around as a nice decoration, it begins to stir, ever so slightly, just so that you might dismiss it as a trick of the mind. Out of the corner of your eye, you see it stand, limply, its arms dangling from their loose ball joints and its head crooked to one side. You turn around, the doll sat neatly in its place just as you left it, as if it had never moved. With a sigh of relief, you turn around, only to be greeted by empty sockets upon a life sized version of the doll you own, and if you happened to glance anywhere else, you would notice her arms have no joins, only flesh tinted a sickly color, petrified in a state of decay. Of course, you wouldn't have time to look anywhere else, as the girl places her cold hands on either side of your head and gives it one firm twist. In your last moments before you go cold, you see a black spirit escape from her mouth, she goes limp as it enters your own.
Generic Infantry
I'm a zombie soldier from the First World War who breathes poison gas on account of some magically still being in my lungs from choking on it almost a century ago and still has a working rifle with attached bayonet. How do you
think I would kill her?
Obviously by strangling her.
