Johnson Doewry

6'2, he/him, probably straight

Vengeful Zombie

When he was alive, Johnson was decently unremarkable. As soon as he finished high school he went straight into the work force. Working at shitty 9-5's, just to be able to afford the one bedroom apartment he lived in, in the bad part of town. But just because he was boring doesnt mean he was rude or a bad person. Johnson had always been at least polite and respectful, saying his "thank you"s and "please"s to all the teachers in school, always so respectful to the women unlike all the other men, and just never made a fuss or a scene. But he was never really acknowledged for this, or for anything. He was just normal, like anyone else. It'd be pretty impossible to identify him in a lineup of any other normal guy, he looked just like that. One day, Johnson is he walking home from his undeniably boring job, and its night time, mid winter. He stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets as he tredges along. He couldnt afford a car just yet, and he figured walking was good excersize anyways. Johnson then changes his attention to the noise behind him. Its footsteps.

 He doesnt know by who. Who else would be unfortunate enough to be walking home in the cold at 12 in the morning? He debates in his head whether he should turn around and look at this stranger or walk even faster. Maybe he should just ignore it?

Johnson feels sweat running down his forehead as he is now speed walking way past his house, past his neighborhood, and now into the city, still noticing and hearing the person following behind him. It was late at night, on a weekday. No one was out in the city, and the bright traffic lights reflected onto the dusty city windows and oil spills in the road. But all Johnson could transfix on was the moving shadow behind him.

Johnson is getting sick of this silent chase. His breath was heaving, his heart was pounding in his chest. His legs were moving faster than his mind at this point, nerves running on hyperdrive due to the adrenaline brewwing as his anxiety worsened. Before he knew it, he suddenly heard the person begin to run, footsteps suddenly pounding against the ground after him. He doesnt even have time to brace himself as he turns to face the person following him, when an axe bludgeons him in the head. His death was immediate.

The killer was never found. Neither was the body. Shortly after the murder had happened, a white van appears and Johnson's limp corpse is taken into the van and speeds off. All that remains of him is the blood puddle on the concrete.

Before Johnson could even register the afterlife, he was awake again. He rose with a jolt, frantically analizing his situation. Am I alive? Did I die? Is this the afterlife?? All of these questions do not have a straightforward answer.

Johnson had been reincarnated by his killer, as a sort of impromptu test subject. The killer had been searching for someone unremarkable, invisible. Someone nobody would notice as gone. 

So now, Johnson would spend the rest of his eternity alive, trying to find this killer.

And make sure they knew who he was, forever.

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Johnson Doewry was targeted and killed by a group of pseudoscientists practicing with dark arts. They chose him because he was so unbelievably unremarkable nobody would notice his death. John knows this, and it fuels his rage and encourages him to find the scientists one by one and kill them

-significantly weaker

-learning how to use more advanced ranged weaponry due to weakness

-seeks revenge