going to sit out here?"
"That's a good question,” Karl said, pushing the trash onto the floor and crossing his legs. “I had too much soda. I have to tinkle."
"That's the last time I buy you a large Coke. Just get out and go,” Toby instructed him. I glanced out the passenger window past Toby as the Goblin opened the door and slid out. The eastern sky was starting to steadily brighten. “I'm either going to have to go home,” I nodded to the sunrise, “or get in the trunk soon."
"You think the Sprite is waiting us out?” Toby considered. "If it even knows we're here,” I countered. “We might be giving that little monster too much credit.” I paused and raised my eyebrows certain I could hear music. “Is Karl singing a Counting Crows song?" Toby and I fell silent. Amidst the sounds of the night and liquid hitting the car tire, we could indeed hear the Goblin singing about Mr. Jones as he relieved himself. Covering my mouth, I snickered. "Stop listening to me pee!” Karl shouted as he became aware of our silence. “Perverts!" Toby threw his head back and laughed out loud. I heard my cell phone ring. Digging into my pocket, I pulled it free and flipped it open. “Webb,” I answered. I don't know, it just sounds more professional when you curtly say your last name. "Rose, it's Doctor Yazgren.” He paused. “I have those test results you've been waiting for." "Excellent.” I smiled, even though concern gripped me. Toby looked anxiously at me. I held up my finger to tell him to wait a minute. “What did you find?" "The Vampire you brought in,” Yaz started, “well, it really isn't a Vampire. It may look like a duck, and quack like a duck, but it isn't a duck—" "I get it,” I said quickly. “So, what is he?" "As far as I can tell,” Yaz breathed, “it's a genetically-altered Maryut." I felt my eyebrows rise. “A Maryut?"
"A Demon,” Yaz answered, “but that's about all I can tell you. The Syndicate had a genetic sample on record, but no accompanying data. The match from the pseudo Vampire was almost ninety-five percent. Having never personally seen a Maryut, I can't tell you what they are, or even what they look like. The only reference I could find was that the Maryut looked like wax people. It was a really, really old source,” Yaz apologized.
"So what does this mean?” I asked.
"It's a Maryut genetically manipulated to look like a Vampire. The Werewolf arm you supplied showed similar signs,” Yaz replied.
"That's a good question,” Karl said, pushing the trash onto the floor and crossing his legs. “I had too much soda. I have to tinkle."
"That's the last time I buy you a large Coke. Just get out and go,” Toby instructed him. I glanced out the passenger window past Toby as the Goblin opened the door and slid out. The eastern sky was starting to steadily brighten. “I'm either going to have to go home,” I nodded to the sunrise, “or get in the trunk soon."
"You think the Sprite is waiting us out?” Toby considered. "If it even knows we're here,” I countered. “We might be giving that little monster too much credit.” I paused and raised my eyebrows certain I could hear music. “Is Karl singing a Counting Crows song?" Toby and I fell silent. Amidst the sounds of the night and liquid hitting the car tire, we could indeed hear the Goblin singing about Mr. Jones as he relieved himself. Covering my mouth, I snickered. "Stop listening to me pee!” Karl shouted as he became aware of our silence. “Perverts!" Toby threw his head back and laughed out loud. I heard my cell phone ring. Digging into my pocket, I pulled it free and flipped it open. “Webb,” I answered. I don't know, it just sounds more professional when you curtly say your last name. "Rose, it's Doctor Yazgren.” He paused. “I have those test results you've been waiting for." "Excellent.” I smiled, even though concern gripped me. Toby looked anxiously at me. I held up my finger to tell him to wait a minute. “What did you find?" "The Vampire you brought in,” Yaz started, “well, it really isn't a Vampire. It may look like a duck, and quack like a duck, but it isn't a duck—" "I get it,” I said quickly. “So, what is he?" "As far as I can tell,” Yaz breathed, “it's a genetically-altered Maryut." I felt my eyebrows rise. “A Maryut?"
"A Demon,” Yaz answered, “but that's about all I can tell you. The Syndicate had a genetic sample on record, but no accompanying data. The match from the pseudo Vampire was almost ninety-five percent. Having never personally seen a Maryut, I can't tell you what they are, or even what they look like. The only reference I could find was that the Maryut looked like wax people. It was a really, really old source,” Yaz apologized.
"So what does this mean?” I asked.
"It's a Maryut genetically manipulated to look like a Vampire. The Werewolf arm you supplied showed similar signs,” Yaz replied.