“It’s a
travesty!” Tyrol shouted in his mind. “It was my idea. I made it happen. I put
my eternity at risk; Agros could have torn me to pieces! He could have destroyed me!” “And what do I
get for it? Jesus!” The sound of that word created a very subtle vibration that
mortals could not feel. Tyrol lifted both hands, like in ‘Ok’ or ‘I give up’
and walked up to his space.
In a
vampire nest, democracy is not a political question but a matter of
practicality. You’d never want the others to gang up on you. They could win
just by the numbers. Just like democracy. The search for the TV programs most
of the vampires liked always ended up in the same place. History Channel! They
would point and shout, “Damn, I was there!” “Yes, I remember!” “That’s when
so-and-so...” The laughter was chilling.
Tyrol simply
passed on the remote and went back to being bored.
(To Be
Continued.)
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