Janey Belle


Who Am I...

Don't call me 'Zombie Tramp'…

Romantic Interests

Hah. No.

Relationship Status

Hahah. No.

My Story Is...

Grew up white trash. Wasn’t anybody special, just a girl with big tits trying to just… fit in. But apparently that wasn’t going to happen, since I only ever had one friend, who killed herself after we both got drugged and raped by this jock asshole. So I cut the brakes on his car, sent him flying off a mountain. Cops came for ME, but my dad took the fall.


Of course, I ended up up on the streets, got forced into prostitution, and eventually, after a grand old shitty time doing that, started being the slightly less shitty and most expensive call-girl in all of Hollywood.


Then I got bitten by a zombie, died, came back from the dead pissed as all hell, killed and ate a lot of people… And I’ve been on a rampage ever since.


Don’t fuck with me.


(P.S.A. – Janey is dead. You do not, under any circumstances, do it/fornicate/copulate/mate/get laid/hook up/get it on/get busy/get lucky/get down/hump/make babies/fool around/shag/screw/bang/bone/nail/pound/fuck with dead things. No sex. That’s called necrophilia and that’s nasty, yo.)

My Appearance

In life and in death, Janey has the presence of beauty. She’s tall, with a slender frame that is heavily gifted with all natural curves. No silicon in the front or the back, here! Janey’s goods were and remain homegrown, no GMOs. But, a skinny waist, ass for days, and tits that people would swear were bolt-ons doesn’t make one (or shouldn’t) forget that she’s… dead. They grey-ish, gangrenous color of her skin. The exposed muscle, the bite marks and scratches that killed her. Empty eyes that are only full of anger, hatred, or contempt for the living… She’s not among the living, but not among the dead…

I Believe...

The world deserves monsters like me.