Cavity Fillings

A Zombies violent behaviour is so much more than what you can see on the outside. Inside is a battle. Fight, after fight, after fight. There's a war going on like that of two wolves. The infection, the virus that causes such a primeval effect, yet doesn't quite kill... So now you're not quite dead, but you're not at all alive. Undead. And everything else seems surreal. The space inside, just an abyss, no longer a star in sight. Crash landed ships. Spewed debris and shrapnel slice. The innards of decaying carcass, insides pour out when pressure is piled on. Except nobody patches up holes on that of which is already dead. The burning hunger that growls verbrato. The stomach empty, body empty, heart empty, mind empty. Hungry for not only brains, but an insideous desire for all parts. Your inside screaming power as you tear into the head of some naive victim of your circumstance. Full now, for a second. Always more. Wanting more. Wanting more. Needing more. And that feeling takes you to your knees. Or was that a gun shot to the head? Stabbed in the back? Right in the heart you say? You might say it's for the best.