In our most modern show, the infected swarm in packs and attack while you maneuver through the most hostile environment possible. From fresh dead to rotten, the biters moan and wail, reaching, striving toward the life-blood that fills your veins and the warmth that covers your skin. Their skin is quickly rotting, falling from them in slick, pulpy masses to litter the ground and be eaten by those no longer able to stand, still propelling themselves with their arms to seek your trembling legs and feet.
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