If you throw yourself off the roof is disapointment

You can't fucking believe it! You are sent to the same type of situation you used the magic book to escape from. Fuck that! You walk to the center of the roof and take a running start, you jump as far out as you can over the roofs ledge. Your heart palpitates as you begin falling towards the carnage below, you shall be zombie food. Fifty feet down you hit a power line hanging between the building and the poll. You spin and your thighbone snaps, you spiral on down, landing on the tarp of the building's entryway. The tarp rips and you hit the pavement with a loud slap. You cannot move but you are still alive and conscious. Zombies coming at you from every direction. You manage to crawl a few feet towards the doors before the first one falls on you. It's a street person with painted stained clothes and a grizzled beard. He bites your forehead, breaking the skin and causing blood to flow into your eye. Then you are covered in zombies, biting feverishly into you. The pain is worse than anything ever before, your screams bruise the night as you die.

After a lot of your skin is eaten away the crowd moves on to sample other meats, and a couple children appear running down the street. The sprinters take them down and its a feeding frenzy. You are forgotten laying dead for a couple of hours. Then you slowly tick to unlife. You know only one thing, hunger! A ravening hunger that needs to be filled. This need fills everything, only instinct, the back brain dragging you along the sidewalk, crawling on a broken leg, leaving a smear of blood and organs behind you. You must feed.