InsaneJournal

Why can’t I dream about anything nice? I found my desk at the Raccoon City Police Department and it looks as though the department was going to have a little welcome party for me. The zombie apocalypse happened before I got here and now half of the department is dead and the other half are zombies that want to eat my flesh. There’s a part of me that wishes I’d reported when I was supposed to. The other half is glad that I didn’t.

I woke up this morning and apparently the gun I use in the dreams is here now. And so is my RPD uniform. The gun is useful, I guess. Not so sure about the uniform.