Shambling Dead: Endless Night

They're coming to get you, Barbara. The radio's screaming, a voice in

the dark. About a plague, a final mark. The corpses are rising,

a hungry silent crawl. From out of the ground, answering

a final call. They're slow but they're coming, with a hunger in their eyes.

They're the end of the living, in this grim disguise. They're the shambling

dead. Lurching through the night, with hollow stares and hungry dread.

In a world devoid of light. They don't run and they don't scream,

they just break down the door. They're not the end, they're here for