In the end, Grizz gave in.
He picked up the bone from the ground and slunk out the door, tail practically between his legs.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
The Vampire Race burst into raucous laughter behind him, clearly enjoying the show.
"These purebred zombies are hilarious."
"Just like dogs, aren't they?"
"Even if you gave him a dozen guts, he still wouldn't dare step out of line!"
"Pathetic."
Grizz had barely reached the doorway when the jeers and mocking voices from the vampires hit him like a slap to the back of the head.
He glanced down at the bone in his hand, and a wave of fury surged up from deep inside him.
But he swallowed it.
Patience.
Grizz commanded tens of thousands of zombies—he wasn't afraid of the Malrick family. What he feared was the force behind them: the Crimson Count.
That monster could wipe him off the face of the earth with a flick of his finger.
