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Want Some Pie? Bakery Marco and Alejandro Lilac and Lakmei's Trinity Offices Trinity Church You Look Nice Salon Gracey, Tiny, and Prime of Darkness Gracey, Tiny, and Prime of Darkness Bibi and Cheehawk Old Leviathan's Pond Marco and Alejandro
June 12th, 2012

A Monstrous Proposal


Marco balked, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Why what?”

The demon crossed his arms in front of his chest, his gaze steady and even as he looked down on the boy. Something akin to a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Why are you asking me about zombies?”

Marco shrugged, caught momentarily off-guard. “Because you’re…” The boy waved his hand up and down, indicating the demon’s strange outfit consisting of spiked pauldrons and a red cape. “You’re, you know. Well, I don’t know exactly what you are,” Marco admitted. “But you told me yourself you’re not human. So I thought maybe you might know. About zombies. My brother says zombies are real, but I say they’re not.”

“Zombies are monsters,” the demon said matter-of-factly.

Definitely,” Marco agreed.

The demon’s voice was low, hardly above a whisper as he asked, “And you think I, too, am a monster?”

There was a note of something in the Prime of Darkness’s voice that gave Marco pause. The answer was ready in his mouth; he had only to speak the word. Of course the Prime of Darkness was a monster; what else could he be? He had blue skin and black eyes for crying out loud, and he wore an outfit just like the one Marco’s favorite superhero wore, but the Prime of Darkness and La Venganza de la Noche were not the same person. Or so the Prime of Darkness had said. He’d also admitted to not being human. So if he wasn’t a human, he had to be a monster, didn’t he?

But not all non-human beings are monsters, Marco reasoned. Chickens were not monsters. Nor were aliens. He didn’t even think spiders, as much as he hated them, were monsters, and yet none of these things was human.

What, then, did it mean to be a monster?

“I don’t know,” Marco said at last. “I thought maybe you were. Like maybe you were a good monster. Or, not good exactly,” Marco corrected, “but at least not, you know. Like zombies. You don’t eat people’s brains.”

“And yet,” the Prime of Darkness interrupted, “I told you I devour human souls, something which you yourself seem to hold dear. If zombies are monsters and they eat human souls, am I not a monster even though I consume something every bit as important to your humanity?”

The Prime of Darkness’s logic made sense to Marco, but the boy didn’t want to think about that. After all, while the Prime of Darkness wasn’t exactly Marco’s friend, he hoped he one day might be. And friends were something Marco had in such small supply.

Evasion, Marco decided, was the best tactic. “So are zombies real or not?”

The demon smiled, mischief sparkling in his dark eyes. “We could spend time continuing this conversation,” the demon reasoned, “or you and I could plot something far more interesting and sinister. Your brother believes zombies are real, right?”


The demon shrugged. “Whether they are real or not, there’s no reason for him to stop believing it. Do you follow me, Marco?”

Marco didn’t.

“What I’m saying is — What do you think your brother would make of a zombie paying him a little visit? Perhaps in the middle of the night while he’s in his bed sleeping, and perhaps very, very close up? Close enough to hear the moans?”

Marco grinned. He liked the sound of that a lot.


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