TITLE: Unlives of the Undead
"Can someone get rid of the flies? They're ruining the shots," a cameraman said.
"It's Brain-Breath's fault. They follow him like pets," Annabelle said. She flashed a spiteful smile at me.
"Don't call me that," I said, frowning.
"What would you prefer? Rotting Flesh? The Walking Corpse?" Annabelle's smile widened to reveal her fangs.
"You're one to talk, Blood Sucker," I said.
"Oh, how clever! I've never heard that before. How many days did it take for you to come up with it?"
Annabelle's hand shot out, quick as lightning, and closed around one of the flies. She squeezed and then opened her hand. The lifeless bug dropped to the ground.
"Was that your best friend? I'm so sorry you didn't get a chance to say goodbye." She only needed a few seconds to dispose of the rest of the flies circling me.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn't come up with a decent response.
Wicked delight flashed in Annabelle's eyes. She knew she'd won this round, not that she ever came close to losing a verbal spat with me. She was quick-witted, even for a vampire. A zombie like me had no chance of matching her repartee for repartee.
"Tell me you're getting all this," Scott, the shoot director, whispered to one of the cameramen.