[ WP ] A ghost follows his zombie body around after he dies watching himself attack and eat people .

The smell is putrid. It's death. Ironically pungent yet sweet and, god, you ca n't get rid of it from your nose or lungs. I do n't know how long it's been because it's like a dream where we are n't bound by numbers on a round face. We just keep going. Living, if you like, but in death. I've not wanted to do this but curiosity brings you here. There. I ache. I ca n't see myself in this form but I can see myself dead. I'm on my knees, or what's left of them. My clothes rotting to my skin. Skin. I can feel it now. His hand on my face. Rough from hard work and cold weather. Skin. Gone. The skin I can see is disgusting. I'm dead. I'm rotting. I'm repulsive. I watch myself watch others. Live ones with so much emotion and blood in their veins. Their past and future merging at once. I crawl towards them. Hungry for what I do n't have and so senseless. I have no thoughts in that idle, decomposing brain. Just the need for the skin and life I've lost. 
 
 I'm crawling quickly now, then I stand, then I jog. They're running away, screaming. I'm a predator. A disgusting, dead predator. A girl slips, falls. Her leg is caught in debris from the explosion earlier today. A car door. People do n't stop for her as instinct tells them to care for themselves. 
 
 I reach her. Her face is terrifying. Terrified. My god. The scream. It eats at me and I can still hear it. Monster. 
 
 I've gone now, I ca n't watch myself do that. I'm on a skyscraper roof. I'm looking over the edge at the carnage below. 
 
 Is it possible to kill yourself if you're already dead?
