Zombie for Pickup

“What did she mean, about the will?” I asked the werewolf once Tabitha had gone.

“Hmm?” The werewolf looked up from his paper. “Oh, right. Well, you’re legally dead, so…” He paused, sniffing the air. Then, without another word, he stood and stalked toward the door. Sometimes werewolves really had no manners.

“Zombie for pickup?” a male voice asked. I put my face up against the bars, but the angle was such that I couldn’t see the speaker.

“You’re early,” the werewolf growled. “It’s nearly an hour before sundown.”

“I used the covered entrance. Never pass up an opportunity to go sightseeing on the living side.”

“Then what are you doing here? Go sightsee.”

“Not much to see through tinted windows. Like you said about sundown.”

The werewolf only growled. Who was he talking to?

“Come on, you should be honoured. I got up early for you.”

“Then you can take the zombie early too. She’s just here, ready to go.” The werewolf stalked back into sight, shoulders nearly touching his ears and legs stiff. If he’d had fur, it would all have been standing on end.

The man that followed him was so pale his skin looked like copy paper. He was thin and a little shriveled looking, and moved with with a strange, spider-like grace. The twin scars over his lips marked him as a vampire.

Created with Microsoft Fresh Paint
Illustration by Jessica Emmas

I stepped back from the bars, feeling suddenly afraid. Werewolves I was more or less used to, but vampires…they were dead. I didn’t want to die.

“Not the usual type.” The vampire studied me with the eyes of a predator. “Usually it’s addicts or suicidal goths that get zombie bites.”

“You’re welcome to take her and go any time now,” the werewolf snapped.

“I don’t want to go with him,” I blurted out, my voice unexpectedly squeaky. “He’s a vampire!”

The vampire smiled, revealing pointed canine teeth. “Yes, I am. But don’t worry, you still have an hour here.” He looked at the werewolf. “Those are the rules.”

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