"I will crush you, human."
Russ shrugged. "You're also human, whether you want to admit it or not. You think because you are evolving you're also developing at a superior level, but in the end you're still going to be known as a baby killer."
The new Azrael laughed. "I'll be known as ruler of this world. Master of reality."
"That was my favorite Black Sabbath album," Russ said.
Azrael closed his eyes and sighed. This was not going as planned. This mere mortal was supposed to be cowering before him, begging for mercy. "Why are you tempting fate?"
"Because you don't really scare me. You're just a big bully. For all your arrogance, you're still a human, and you can't get away from that. You might not take a dump anymore, but you still remember the feeling. You still know what it's like to cry when a chick cheats on you, or when your dog, Fluffy, died. I have a question."
Azrael didn't answer Russ, just staring at him now.
Russ shrugged. "I'll take that as 'ask away.' I want to know if you were a jerk-off before you died, or if you are now a megalomaniac interested in ruling the world."
"I was a doctor, and a damn good one. I drove a Porsche and had a house valued at $1.6 million. A trophy wife and two adoring children. I've won awards and saved more lives than I can count."
"Then what's changed?"
"What do you mean?"
"When you were still alive, did you ever get the urge to eat raw flesh or act so mean when it came to others? Ever killed someone intentionally? Ever had such distaste for your fellow humans that you'd let someone rape women in droves while you watched, bored? Would you even be caught dead… pun intended… with a loser like Jeff here? I can't even picture you sitting in an airport lounge, waiting for a flight to some big doctor's convention in Atlanta with this guy seated next to you, having a cheap beer. What would you talk about? You probably made ten times his salary. And a part of you looked down on overweight Neanderthals like him. Guys who thought they were big shits because they carried a gun. And had a badge."
"I'm standing right here," Jeff said, walking over after putting Bri in a cage. "Let me gut this chump, boss. It looks like he's in bad shape, so I'll even let him out of the cage before I skin him like a fish."
Russ reflexively touched the angry bruise on his chest and shoulder where the bullet had entered and exited.
"You take a nasty shot?"
Russ nodded. "I thought I was dead. I lost so much blood. The zombies were everywhere, and, by the time I came around, it was early morning and everyone was gone."
Jeff spit on the ground. "Shit, I thought you were dead when I found you wandering on Route 1. I should've left you for dead."
"I think your chance to get the upper hand on me has passed, my friend, no matter what our nice friend here decides for either of us."
Russ smiled and Azrael had to return it.
"I like you, and I don't know why. By rights, for talking to me the way you're talking to me, I should let this Neanderthal cut you to pieces. But, I'm also a smart man. I was a doctor, remember? I'm going to let you live for now, but you'll stay behind bars until I deem it necessary to let you roam."
"I can live with that, but with so many of us here, you need to get better at finding us food." Russ pointed a thumb at Jeff. "He's a horrible cook. If you plan on starting a baby mill for your desserts, you might want to think about feeding these women better food. Maybe have Neanderthal raid a pharmacy for some prenatal vitamins and other things. If you want my opinion."
"Nobody asked. If I want your opinion, I'll squeeze your head," Jeff said.
Azrael put his hand up. "Enough. All this petty bickering is annoying. Tonight I will come up with a better plan for my future. The human is right… I need to make long-term moves in order to stay ahead of the weak humans and other liches." He liked that word.
Lich.
It had power, like he did. It rolled off his tongue. Azrael the Lich pointed at Jeff. "I'll need more women, and more food and supplies for them. Rest up, because starting tomorrow morning your workload will triple. I need to spread my territory and influence." He grinned and closed his fist, shaking it in the air. "My reign of blood is about to begin."
Armand Rosamilia is a New Jersey boy currently living in sunny Florida, exactly in the area these stories take place… creepy. He writes all day (and sometimes at night), and has amassed over 70 releases to date, with many many more on the horizon.
Want to buy all of his books so he can get fatter, sitting around in Flagler Beach, eating cinnamon raisin bagels with tuna and drinking banana bread beer?
http://armandrosamilia.com will get you all the details. He likes tips and bags of M&M's as well…
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