It wasn't so much the zombies that wore at him. It was the daily grind, the inevitable battle against nature, other survivors, even himself- food and water became prizes, and other humans he originally hoped would be allies turned into fellow competitors. He never dreamt he'd be a killer, but after a particularly nasty man tried to steal his hammock, he began a streak.
Blood once induced stomach wrenching episodes, but now, as it drenched his hands, it became a reward. Because that blood was not his, it meant he could live yet another day- he had long since given up hope for anything, but his desire to survive was stronger than his desire to leave this hellish world.
As he padded down the road, he knew only that this city- Arklay, he believed was its name- offered a sanctuary from the grind. Here, he could salvage some of his life, return to being a friend of the helpless, assist in ridding the town of zombies and establishing some semblance of a government. He could become a good guy again.
In his heart, however, he knew that was a foolish wish. In this world there was no room for morals- unless he wished to end up dead. And death was one thing he was intent on avoiding.
OOC: Hey all, looking forward to once again RPing seriously in SL. I've been around the Alterscape block, mainly in DE. Can't wait to meet everyone and begin writing another epic story!