Someone that doesn't look good

Annoyed, John marched towards his front door and looked through the peephole. He wasn't sure what to expect at the door since he doesn't get many visitors. John briefly thought of pretending not to be home but figured the angry stomping had already given him away, so he might as well see who was disturbing his happy time.

Whatever John was expecting, it certainly wasn't the pale-faced, sweaty guy who looked to be leaning against his door. John watched as the man seemingly took labored breaths before pounding on the door again. John didn't notice beforehand, but the banging felt weak, sounding like a clump of paper smacking against his door. He must've been in terrible shape if that's all he could do. In shock, John grabbed the doorknob but stopped as the young man remembered what he was wearing. John couldn't go out dressed like a schoolgirl, but at the same time, he can't just leave the guy there; the man probably needs medical attention. With a resigned sigh, John made to open the door, putting his moral fiber over his dignity. Hopefully, whoever he's helping will be grateful enough to keep a secret.

Grabbing the doorknob, John ripped the door open, causing the guy to fall into his dorm room. Seizing his opportunity, John pushed the injured man into his room and then slammed the shut, praying desperately that no one saw him. Turning towards his new guest, John saw that the man had a nasty bite on his arm. John had no medical knowledge whatsoever, but given how the guy's arm was bleeding heavily and the man had yet to pick himself up off the ground, John's guest might be in worse shape than he thought.

"A-are you alright?" John asked as he began to lean down towards the injured man. He tried to make his voice sound light and girly, hoping to make it harder for the newcomer to discover his true gender. The man said nothing as he lay down on the ground. John grabbed his arm and tried to help him, but the guy was too heavy to move, and the injured man still wasn't moving. Unsure of what to do next, John began looking around his room to see if anything could help, specifically something that could be used as a makeshift bandage until his guest could get proper medical treatment.

John didn't notice that the man had stopped breathing or that his place skin had taken on a sickly green hue. He saw that the man started to stand up, and assuming that was good, John reached down to help him to his feet.

"H-here," John said as he took his non-blooded arm and pulled him up. "Just sit on my desk chair, and I'll try to find something-" The second the guy stood up was the second he lunged at John. The crossdresser didn't see the attack coming and found himself falling to his feet with his attacker on top of him. John was dazed for a few seconds before he felt the aggressor's hands start grabbing at his clothes, specifically his skirt.

"What the hell?!" John cried out. He tried to shove off his attacker, but it was like trying to push a brick wall; the man wouldn't even budge. That's when John got a good look at his attacker. John stared at the emotionless face and empty eyes of the man he let into his apartment. His white-glazed eyes showed no signs of sanity or even consciousness like John was staring at a corpse.

'But that can't be right!' The rational part of John's mind screamed. 'This can't be happening. I can't be getting groped by a freaking ZOMBIE!"