Braindead

The knock on the door could barely be heard above the woman’s giggles and shrieks of pleasure. Zachary froze, listening for a second knock. It did not take long for the woman beneath him to realize that something was wrong. She whispered in his ear, asking. This time her voice could be barely be heard above the knocking. “Damn it,” Zachary muttered as he climbed off of the woman. “You remember what I said about the castle owner being a stickler?”

The woman nodded.

“Yeah, well he’s back now, and he’s at the door, and he’s also a cold-blooded killer, so I think you should get out through the window while you still have a chance.”

The woman’s eyes widened with fear and, grabbing her clothes from the floor, she ran to the nearest window and began her nervous climb down to the ground.

Zachary opened the door. “Really, Victor? That was number 5 for this week.”

“I should be the one saying ‘really,’ Zachary. When did I become a cold-blooded killer? “ He looked out of the window at the partially dressed woman running frantically into the woods. “I doubt she’ll ever be coming back.”

“That was the goal, Victor, so I call it a success.”

Victor spun around to face Zachary. “Tell me, Zachary, what exactly do you plan to do when a child shows up on our doorstep? It’s bound to happen one of these times.”

“Well any mother who leaves her child at the doorstep of a supposed cold-blooded killer has some major issues of her own,” Zachary said, ignoring Victor’s hard glare. “Either way, I’d just give it to William. He’s the one who wants a kid so badly.”

Victor sighed an exasperated sigh. “You’re an idiot, Zachary. Simply an idiot.”

“And you’re a stuck up, cold-blooded murderer who lives in a huge castle and only ever comes out of his room at night. I’d rather be an idiot.”