Excerpt:
"I was covered in blood, but it wasn't mine, so it was okay. Not only was it not my blood, but it was all animal blood. If the worst casualties of the night were six chickens and a goat, I could live with it, and so could everyone else. I'd raised seven corpses in one night. It was a record even for me.
I pulled into my driveway at a quarter 'til dawn with the sky still dark and star-filled. I left the Jeep in the driveway, too tired to mess with the garage. It was May, but it felt like April. Spring in St. Louis was usually a two-day even between the end of winter and the beginning of summer. One day you were freezing your ass off and the next day it's be eighty plus. But this year it had been spring, a wet gentle spring.
Except for the high number of zombies I'd raised, it had been a typical night. Everything from raising a civil war soldier for a local historical society to question, a will that needed a final signature, to a son's last confrontation with his abusive mother. I'd been neck deep in lawyers and therapists most of the night. If I heard, "How does that make you feel, Jonathan (or Cathy, or whoever)?" one more time tonight, I'd scream. I did not want to watch one more person "go with his or her feelings" ever. At least with most of the lawyers the bereaved didn't come to the graveside. The court-appointed lawyer would ascertain that the zombies raised had enough cognitive ability to know what they were signing, then he would sign off on the contract as a witness. If the zombie couldn't answer the questions, then no legal signature. The corpse had to be of "sound" ming to sign a legally binding signature. I'd never raised a zombie that couldn't pass the legal definition of soundness, but it happened sometimes. Jamison, a fellow animator at Animator's Inc., had a pair of lawyers come to blows on top of the grave. What fun."
Contents:
-Sarcasm
-Gore (Animal Blood)
-Humor (Towards her job)
Imitation:
Justin stood staring at the man in front of him, face drenched red with anger. He had gotten carried away with murdering the Werewolf in from of him that laid before him in pieces. Blood covered the front of his body bleaching the earth with its blood. Anderson had warned him not to get carried away with the execution, but he didn't seem to follow orders. His job was to execute any rogue creature that went against their laws. Being a vampire only added on to the degree of execution that he could produce. He had tried to do it quick and clean, but his victim had been very loud and verbally abusive towards him. His anger had gotten the best of him and the result lay before him as a large mound of flesh and bones.
"Really Justin, why did you have to make a mess?!" the man yelled.
"Sorry sir, but he ran his mouth to much, and it seems that i have a bad temper" Justin replied calming down.
"I can see that, but that doesn't give you the right to tear up the prison like a piece of meat"
"Sorry, but maybe next time he'll behave and keep his mouth shut" justin smiled.
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