It's definitely time to leave

"Oh.. Hello?!" Vittoria called out to the encroaching figure; it didn't look good. It was clearly a man, or what used to be. A part of her wondered if this was some kind of sick joke, a staged prank or MTV-style show, but the increasing stench of **** all but confirmed her fears. Even through the warmer notes of her perfume, that smell was only getting stronger, along with the strange noises in the cover of darkness.

There was no response as the figure lurched closer. Vittoria quickly took stride, stepping left off of the gravestone's base to try and give her approacher a little berth. She'd barely made it 3 steps before her back leg stopped and she felt something lock onto her pale ankle. "Huh?!" she uttered and glanced rearward and down; her breasts lightly jostling within the sensuous fabric of her dress from the sudden loss of momentum. A tattered hand was latched on, pushed through the ground and visibly decomposed. It felt frigid against her skin and appeared to be missing the skin of it's lower-little finger, bearing an aged piece of bone.

"Get off! The fu-" Vittoria scowled whilst trying to tug her leg away, pulling the arm further from the ground in the process. It was no luck.

"Ughrrh.."

Vittoria quickly shifted her gaze to the sound, the initial figure now beside her, it's arm stiffly raised toward her shoulder. "Shit!" she exclaimed as she jumped. She could hear what sounded like crumbling and scraping rock not far over. Were there more of these things coming from the graves?! Vittoria soon had her answer; a third groan darting her attention to the left before a gaunt, gnarled face came into view. It's body bumped into her arm and shoulder at first before it's hand grasped at her waist. A fucking zombie!?

"Oh no, no, no.." Vittoria thought to herself, preparing for the worst. She grimaced, ready to fight and shove or meet her grizzly demise. The more emancipated corpse didn't lash at her or bite however, even as it's shriveled hand grasped at her waist and the second pressed onto her bare shoulder. The smell of decay was thick and a glance toward the creature's torso made it clear why. It's brownish-green skin was damaged and torn, exposing a degree of it's dried and rotted innards amidst mere strips and drapes of fabric. At least there weren't any flies.