NEEDLEWRITER

ZUZU

Zuzu was there, no time to think what he was. Dead, unfortunately. Yet another of Neštorows dead. But how? Noone who was there new. Many of the council were there. And ofcourse he. The inspector. The sketched the scene of Zuzu being dead and laught. Because he knew Zuzu Neštorow from before. Unkillable he called him, most of the time. But why he laught to a dead vapmire not being burnt to ashes and just swiped away with a brum. It was war time, everybody knew it was time for them to disappear. But the council was hanging at te ceiling and sleeping upside down. They were not vampires. Just bats. He, the inspector calls every bat a part of the council. And they are bloody everywhere around us these days.
But what was she doing here with him. He noticed her.
„Who and why were you brought here, you already know he’ll reanimate?”
„I love his scenes.”
„You call this scenes?!”
„He imagines him self to be a star in our society and plays out a role that is movie for all of us to see. I simply love it.”
„How much will it take this time? A year, maybe two, three, four?”
„Why you ask such simple questions?”
„Oh, I see.”
„Time doesn’t matter to us, we’re bloody vampires, as you know.”
„You love him, don’t you?”
„We took eachother by the ring and bite eternity ago.”
„Oh, that I did not know.”
„Will you join us? I think is time for you too. You’re growing old.”
„I’m afraid I might like it.”
„What’s there not to like?”
„The thirst and hunger.”
„You’ll get used to it in no time, you old sprud.”
„Hahaha…here bite anywhere you like. Drink it all, but be aware, it’s not fresh, my blood grew hot and cold.”
„Such is my last meal of the day I suppose, old wine.”

THE END