I'm not in this dream, just zooming around spectating from different angles. There is three people and their clothes are torn up slightly, and they have blood and dirt all over them and their faces and arms. They're in this grass field that is meant to lead people somewhere, like the home stretch of a marathon race. There's booths, and plastic flagged string leading the grass field one way. One of the guys just sit in the middle of the field and then the other two a man and a woman go sit of to the side by a booth. This place is completely empty, but then I see a mass crowd of bloody zombies groaning and walking towards them. I look to them and wonder why they aren't running away. Then some zombies get up to them and the zombies seem to inspect them, then I come to the conclusion that the people must've put some sort of scent that blocked out their human scent and made them smell dead, so then the zombies start to pass them and continue down the race path, but then the guy who was off to himself gets up and starts walking against the crowd towards the other two and is talking. I cringe because surely the zombies don't talk and will recognize that as a human trait and attack them, but the the other two get up and walk all normally and begin to talk. I am stunned, and then this blueish zombie guy in a torn business suit walks up to my visual and gives me the deepest look and it expresses sorrow, I am shocked, and I am feeling empathy, then the zombie begins to speak, a bit slurred at first, he begins to tell me his life story and he seems saddened by it, I notice it's only his life story since being a zombie, it's as if he doesn't remember from before when he was a human.
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