ZOMBIE.

[MADAM GRIMM]

ZOMBIE

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original name: Eros.
current name: Zombie. (current & permanent.)
nicknames: Whatever you feel like calling him.
age: Seven.
breed: Mongrel. (he's got just about any large breed in him- from wolf to great dane to irish wolfhound to lesser known breeds such as the cao de castro laboreiro.)
gender: Male.
pack or loner?: Pack.
if pack, which pack?: Ariston.
smells like: Rotting flesh.
sexual orientation: Not applicable.
children: Zombie is, and has always been, sterile. Though this doesn't mean he isn't up for taking a couple pets under his wing.
voiced by: Anthony Hopkins.
theme song: House of 1000 Corpses - Rob Zombie.
other: Zombie is infected with the X7 virus.

alias: Grimm.
age: 17.
timezone: Eastern ; Florida.
read the rules: Doggone.

BASICS
appearance:

There is nothing more terrifying in the world than a man with no face. Of his years on Earth, Zombie has erased the burden of his face. Once having beautiful features, God-like features, Zombie took them all away. His body is mangled, tattered and matted. His coat is stained a piss-yellow in some areas. Most say it’s from the blood that never washed away, others say it's from a bladder disorder. Whatever you believe it is, doesn't change the fact that his once beautifully white coat is now a wretched off-white. In certain areas of his fur, are pockets of dried blood that have collected in the matts. Some are incredibly hard, and others, in some cases, can be quite squishy. If rubbed too hard, or touched too roughly, a thick blood filling will ooze out. The smell from the paste is vomit-encouraging enough.

Zombie suffers from a disease known as demodicosis, or red mange. Demodicosis is noncontagious to those who aren't related to him and hadn't nursed from his mother. His entire back is almost completely hairless (apart from very few hairs that were able to grow) and covered with thick, bloody scabs, dandruff and infection. This is Zombie's 'weak spot'. The only place on his body that actually feels anything. Pus leaks from any little crevice that becomes infected, nearly drenching his back in that sticky yellow gunk.

Though his back is a large attraction to attention- his face is unforgettable. Zombie is completely eyeless- though it doesn't mean he is entirely blind. Zombie's vision is quite strange to say in the least, how he can see is a mystery to nearly everyone that sees him. His vision is very similar to how Daredevil views things. He does not see details in anything. Not color, not the depth of a pond, or the whiskers on a cat. Zombie sees in a black/red/grey color. Anything his 'eyes' lay sight on, is seen very blurred, and very distorted. He won't be able to see if you've got a ball sac, or if you've got a collar, nor with he be able to see if you're drenched in blood. Though the farther you are from him, the better he can see you.

With his sight gone, Zombie's scent and hearing are greatly increased. No, he can't necessarily hear a pin drop in a crowded room or any of the sort, but he can hear your breathing as you creep away to escape him, he can smell your terror, your blood as it drips from your freshly cut wound.

Zombie has literally no face. Being quite the insane fellow as a young lad, Zombie took his beauty away. Any handsome features he once had are now completely erased; damaged beyond repair. There is no fur that grows on his face, there is no skin- there is only scarred tissue and bone. With no nose, his scent is very sensitive, not that smelling is painful, but it can smell nearly everything that is introduced to him. Having nearly no flesh on his face at all, Zombie is incapable of showing any emotion. Though he may be smiling on the inside, Zombie has no flesh to allow him to express it; the only muscle that remains anywhere on his face is near his temporomandibular joint. This gives him the ability to still open and close his mouth. Having no skin under his lower jaw, Zombie's tongue hangs out from the bottom at times. Now, his face does not hurt him in any way, it's lost all feeling completely over the years it's had to 'recover' it's mangling.

Zombie stands at a whopping 36.4 inches, and weighs just under 50 pounds. His body is malnourished, weather-beaten, and just simply disgusting. He's a hideous, wretched, disgusting, ugly creature. His legs are very thick boned, and appear to hold large amounts of muscle on them; however the only muscle worthwhile noting on Zombie is on his neck, forelegs and hind area; other than that it’s simply a waste of time searching for anything else.

personality:

SCHIZOPHRENIC: Zombie suffers from a case of undifferentiated schizophrenia; meaning he's affected by nearly every type of schizophrenia. With this type of mental disorder, Zombie may undergo a change of personality with a quickness. An easier way to put it is, Zombie's a nut who's tasted nearly every color of the rainbow. Zombie's hallucinations are one of his favorite symptoms of the disease, and one of his most hated symptoms of the disease. His hallucinations are based off of what his mood is like. Depending on how angry he is, his mind may create some sort of disgusting, mutated beast with four heads, or some deceivingly innocent, agile creature that has a craving for his flesh.

Alongside his hallucinations, Zombie has a child-like feel to him. No, not sweet or innocent; but more of that ignorant, carefree, rebellious brat. This trait has been generously provided by his disorganized schizophrenia symptoms. That being said, Zombie also suffers a lack of emotion. No, his emotion isn't entirely gone, he still expresses basic emotions such as anger, joy and sorrow. Though anything else, shame, remorse and pity, have no trace in the beast whatsoever.

His thoughts have been poisoned by the disease, and have lost any hope for organization. Zombie's thoughts are always rushed, racing through his mind in a never ending stream. His concentration has also been greatly affected by the disease, and Zombie lacks the power to keep his mind focused on any one thing for too long. Be it a task, a mission or a simple question.

INSENSITIVE: Oh, come now. You hadn't actually believed a beast to care for you, did you? Zombie's the last creature you'd lean on for mercy, let alone your feelings. If he's offended you, don't even bother wasting your time telling him. It's likely he'd laugh at you. That, or flash you his signature smug 'grin'. Zombie does not care for or your petty feelings. He cares not for your love, your child or your dead mother. He rather enjoys disregarding anything touchey-feely you may say. Anything that may make you rub off as weak. He sees your concern, your love, your sympathy as an advantage. Something for him to bend and twist to his heart's desire.

SARCASTIC: It isn't very hard to believe such a creature could have some sense of humor. Even if it means for him to play his irritation game on you. Zombie doesn't care how long it takes, but once he's baited you on his hook of sarcasm, he'll taunt you- mock you, anything that drives you off the deep end. He takes great pleasure in doing so, and does anything within his power to piss you off. It's his way of having fun. Sarcasm is just one of the many talents he has to offer. Because if his stench, or his looks don't piss you off- his constant mocking will surely do the trick. Unless you're deaf, that is. Then it probably wouldn't do any good.

SOCIAL: Ah, yes. Zombie isn't your everyday, average-Joe schizophrenic. No, no no. Zombie prefers to have company among him. To amuse him, to entertain him, to please him. Though Zombie doesn't enjoy large groups. It tends to set something off inside of him. A thing that in a way, claws at the back of his skull in an attempt to escape the cramped space. Though when not in large groups, Zombie is his usual carefree, selfish buffoon he is. Company is something Zombie craves, desires, needs. Just a guilty pleasure that Zombie prefers to keep rather than let go.

NECROPHILIAC: Zombie finds dead things extremely attractive. Irresistible, in fact. So irresistible that he can't help but to mutilate it's body further. Now, he'd fuck just about anything dead, but he prefers he ones he's killed. Zombie is far from being picky about his darlings. Whether it's been killed recently or been dead for quite some time, once it's been spotted by Zombie, it's sure to get a mangling from him.

RAPIST: Now to those prissy little bitches that see Zombie as a walking freak of nature- watch out. You may just become Zombie's next victim. The dead may be his Megan Fox or Brad Pitt to us humans, but it doesn't mean he doesn't see everyday men and woman as attractive. If you've become a toy for him, fret not for once the experience is over- it's done for forever. He'll drop you like a sack of potatoes. Screwing the living is a shot of adrenaline for him. A drug he needs to have a hit of every now and again, to keep him straight. Once you've been violated in as many ways as your mind can think of, Zombie will turn back to his wondrous dead love toys. Once you've been polluted by his body parts, Zombie won't hesitate to brag to whoever he sees that he rocked your pretty little body. Be you male or female, Zombie doesn't give a damn. You're his only hope for pleasure, other than his dead

ABOMINATION: You wouldn't find a faceless man normal, now would you? No, of course not. Neither do the canines of Chicago. Zombie is disgusting, horrendous, offensive and sickening. He's a freak of nature, a monstrosity that should have been killed on sight when he was birthed. He's spiteful, and quite pleased with it. He's your boogeyman, that thing you have night terrors of, the beast that goes bump in the night and the creature that lurks behind every corner. His maniacal laughter sends spine tingling pulses through your body. His face is enough to make any woman cry for fear of her life, and any man vomit what was once his afternoon meal. There is no soul in Zombie.

CANNIBAL: Zombie is indeed cannibal. True to his eating habits, Zombie eats nothing but canine flesh. Now, when he's craving that decadent, warm flesh- he goes into a sort of 'lockdown' type phase. When he's hungry, Zombie isn't himself. His usual crazy, happy-go-lucky personality morphs into a mindless creature. Whether you're someone he doesn't mind, or completely hates- if you're within the area when he's in 'hunger-mode', you may just become his next meal. That is unless you can escape his grasp. Once he's eaten his fill, Zombie will return to normal. This 'hunger-mode' only happens every three days, any other time, Zombie tends to nibble or snack on a rotting corpse. He doesn't technically 'feed' until it's that time again.

DELUSIONAL: Zombie is a fool when it comes to his doctrines. If he's got it in his head that something went down, or something is another thing- he'll believe it no matter what you say. It doesn't matter if you've proven him wrong with facts, he sticks to his story and that's that. If he hallucinates something happening, he'll believe whole-heartedly that it truly happened. Be it about another canine or about some false god his mind created, he'll thoroughly believe in it. If he has an opinion on something, don't even bother to attempt to bring Zombie back to the 'real world'. If he thinks you're the most disgusting creature to have ever walked the Earth, don't even waste your time arguing with him that you're the complete opposite. No matter what you say or do, nothing will change his opinions of beliefs.

history:

Some say he was created, not birthed- but if one had seen him before he is what he is today, they wouldn't think so narrow-mindedly. Zombie's birth was never meant to be. A mother with severe psychological problems and a father with not a care in the world for anything, it's a wonder how the pregnancy actually went through completely. From the time Zombie was conceived to the time that he was near birthing- Liliah had tried her damnedest to get that creature that had been placed inside of her out. Liliah had convinced herself that her child was no child of hers. That had been a monster implanted inside of her body by hoard of aliens. Not so much as a test, but an experiment. To see if their offspring could survive within the womb of one of Earth’s creatures. How she had come to believe that to be true was something that no one would ever understand.

Several times had Sorixan caught her tearing at her womb- in hopes that she could be rid herself of the beast that dwelled within. Everytime she was caught, Liliah was beaten- and soon forced to stop all of this insanity. If she had continued to do such a thing- the child wouldn't have survived.

When the time of birthing had come along- Lilah couldn't, no, wouldn't, let it live. It was a creature that wasn't meant to live on this planet, a thing that couldn't be birthed, something she wouldn't be able to live with if she had given birth to it. So she ran, ran as far as she could to escape the anger of Sorixan. She couldn't let him stop her, no. Not now. Not when it was close to living on their land, breathing their air, learning their ways. No. She wouldn't let that happen and she'd do anything within her power to stop it from happening. Even if it meant the death of her.

So away she rested in the middle of the night, sheltered by the brush that grew wildly in the forests. There she'd be safe, there she could get rid of that monster once and for all- and this time Sorixan wouldn't be there to stop her.

Over, and over and over she had clawed, desperately trying to get the creature out of her. Clawing hadn't done as much damage as she had hoped for, and so she began to bite. Over and over again had she sunk her teeth into her womb, pulling away chunks as if it had been nothing. After minutes of tearing away at her body, the shock began to set in. Her head began to spin, twisting and distorting the images around her. That's when she spotted him- Sorixan. He had come. At her last attempt, Lilliah grabbed a puppy from her body, weakly tossing it at him. It was dead, apparently, and Sorixan had had enough of it. Hatred, rage, anger, shock- all had been rushing through his body. As he walked around, he saw what she had done to herself. Oh, Lil. . . He hushed, touching her womb with his nose. What have you done?

They're gone, Sorixan. Liliah choked back the blood that collected in her throat, whispering to her lover. Her words came out gurgled and distorted, though not enough to where it had been unintelligible. The monsters... The blood had begun to overwhelm her at this point, and slowly her head began towards the ground. They're.... gone. With her final breath breathed, Liliah's head rested on the ground. The blood that had caught in the back of her throat now spewing from her open maw. Sorixan's heart had seemed to have split into pieces as he watched his lover die, and to see his childrens' bodies scattered about in her womb, covered in blood. So small, innocent, fragile. He had lost all hope then. Everything he had actually cared for in this world, gone. Lost never to return.

A small, nearly inaudible peep could be heard from within her, and soon a little body wriggled out of the mess. It was then he knew fate had given him a second chance. Though it hadn't been only one survivor, two remaining pups had squirmed their way out of Liliah's body, and towards their father. Sorixan took his three children and ran as fast as he could in search of a replacement mother for them. On his travels, the female had died, and he lay her body to rest near a stream. Not stopping for anything else- her continued running. On his way towards Chicago, he had stumbled upon a widow who had claimed herself as Piper. She had had a litter several days back, though the night's chilling air had taken them with it. Sorixan begged her to take his remaining children under her wing, and soon she agreed. So long as he had given her something in return. A new litter.

Months had passed by, and Sorixan's boys grew strong- along with the new litter Piper was promised. Though Sorixan had not cared a dime for Piper's children, Piper had forced him to be with her, to stay with her and their children.

Piper had been deeply envious of the beauty that, not so much Eros, but Kreios had been bestowed, and began to use it to her advantage. Showering them in affection of falsehood and lies, flashing Kreios' God-like appearances to whomever passed their way. Soon canines from every nearby city or town had come to see them. Though Eros' coat was destroyed by his mange, Kreios' wasn't. Though it wasn't their coats, it was their eyes that had attracted nearly everyone that saw them. Eros with bright, sparkling blue eyes- Kreios with stunning, firey golden-auburn eyes. Each had their own perspective beauty about them, and each had gotten equal attention because neither nor were more beautiful than the other. They both had equal beauty.

With as much attention as they had been getting, Sorixan's children still felt unloved by their father. He acted as if this was just a phase and everything would go back to normal soon. Though it only got worse in time, and it began to overwhelm the two to the point of hatred. Soon Eros and Kreios had grown to feel a deep loathing for their father and his new lover. Feeling alone and deprived of their father, Eros took his brother and ran. Together they lived in the outskirts of Chicago, growing to be the characters they are today.

There they lived, in an old shack- though their hideout was short-lived. It had been nearly a week after the 'mob' had found them that something inside Eros had just... snapped. He couldn't take it any longer, and out of pure rage he began clawing, and tearing at his face. Fearing for his life, Kreios took off in search of his father and adoptive mother. The 'mob' soon followed. Though they didn't make it far. Zombie took care of his friendly followers, gutting them like the pigs they were. Though he wasn't done. He was far from being done.

It took him a while to find where they had been living now, but when he did, their greeting was far from welcoming and so he was forced to take shelter by himself. Nights passed, and something inside of him was itching to kill. It burned so brightly he couldn't sleep, tossing and turning to the point that he just gave up sleeping altogether.

Weeks passed, and neither Sorixan or Piper had cared to look for him, see if he was okay, if he was still alive. Though he hadn't cared anymore. What remained of Eros was now dead and gone. It was the beginning of Zombie from then on and Zombie wasn't going to let Piper or her little piglets steal his father from him- and if Sorixan didn't want to come with him- he'd died along with them.

It was at night he came back to their 'residence'. Soundly they slept, unaware of the torture that would soon be brought to them. Within moments it was over. Piper's children were mangled beyond recognition. Some had their skull crushed, others had their muzzles torn away. Piper had it the worst. Chewing on her limbs, Zombie tore each limb off one by one. Slowly but surely, making his way towards her head. She screamed in agony- the pain far too excrutiating to handle for more than a mere second- though Sorixan did nothing. He cowered out of his son's reach, watching the horror Eros had brought to them.

Once she had been killed, Zombie approached his fearful father. Oh come father, don't cry. You wanted this. He mused, 'smiling' at his father. Sorixan shook his head. No, Eros- I did not. Zombie laughed, his way of spitting in his father's face. Eros? Eros?! Dearest father, Eros is no longer with us. Zombie stepped closer. Come with me, and harm will not come your way. The moment his father's scoff reached his ears, Zombie reached for his throat- piercing his father's esophagus on impact. Though he hadn't pulled the cord out, he bit and released, allowing his father to bleed out whilst he walked away.

Years passed and Zombie's personality had began to twist into the sick, disgusting creature he is now. Over the years he had never found Kreios, nor had he any interest in chasing him down. If they had ever crossed paths again, he'd offer him the same choices he had given his father. Come with him and live or die.

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