This post was inspired by comments at Dalrock’s about the Boy Scouts going full “sex-positive” and the inevitable heartache. Link: https://dalrock.wordpress.com/2017/10/10/how-youll-learn-to-love-big-brother/
Zombies horrify us because we care about who they were. The dead returning to life, that’s bad, but friends and family now want to kill you? That’s the part that hurts. It’s easy to say, “he’s already dead so headshot Grandpa until he stays dead” but that’s Grandpa’s face you see over the gun sights.
Your favorite uncle white knights. Your pastor just installed a female assistant pastor. Your boy’s Scout leader is “differently gendered”. Part of you knows that’s a monster wearing the carcass of someone or something noble. Another part wants to believe that this isn’t a write-off situation, that local people don’t have national problems, that Pastor is making an honest mistake with good intentions.
Don’t do it. At best, you’ll feed the enemy resources they don’t deserve. At worst, they’ll use you as camouflage to lure in more prey.
All zombie stories devolve into normal monster stories because eventually, the protagonist either gets eaten or destroys all the undead that he personally knew in life. Once that point is reached, he’s free. The devil can’t manipulate him, rob him or use him, and he’s free to rebuild his life with whatever he salvaged from the end of the last. It is better, but emotionally harder, to do that early.
When your enemy gains power over you, cut loose. Salvage what you can and deny the enemy everything, including what the enemy hasn’t had time to reach yet, because standing in front of you is not what once was.