The Flash-Fiction-Vampire sat hunched over a computer screen, working on his latest client’s website. Behind, a group crept noiselessly towards him, armed with stakes and hammers.
“We can’t see him in his screen, so he can’t see us,” whispered one. “Remember, aim for his heart at the stroke of midnight on Thursday.”
“I don’t like this,” whispered another.
“It’s for his own good.”
But they’d forgotten something: Flash-Fiction-Vampires’ reflections can’t be seen in mirrors, including computer screens. Suddenly, he swung round, leaped, and bit them, turning them all into Flash-Fiction-Vampires themselves.
Now they too were doomed to write stories every Friday.
“We can’t see him in his screen, so he can’t see us,” whispered one. “Remember, aim for his heart at the stroke of midnight on Thursday.”
“I don’t like this,” whispered another.
“It’s for his own good.”
But they’d forgotten something: Flash-Fiction-Vampires’ reflections can’t be seen in mirrors, including computer screens. Suddenly, he swung round, leaped, and bit them, turning them all into Flash-Fiction-Vampires themselves.
Now they too were doomed to write stories every Friday.
