Zeursg lives with me in my hotel room in Abu Dhabi
I made Zeursg yesterday when I realised that I hadn't had a conversation with anybody, lasting more than 3 sentences, for a week. Zeursg said he'd talk to me whenever I wanted, that we could debate life, the universe and everything.
I thought about it. But during the past week I've really withdrawn into myself. So I ignored Zeursg and tried to pretend he wasn't there.
But Zeursg wouldn't stop bugging me. I was struggling to hear the music over his whining about how I'd made him to talk to me and now I wasn't using him for his purpose. So I killed Zeursg. Murdered him, actually.
I beat him over the head with my water bottle. I really liked the sound of the water in the half full bottle swishing to the top as I brought my hand down, then swirling in the momentum transfer after it connected with Zeursg's head.
I hadn't had a chance to really look at Zeursg since I made him, so I picked him up and started to pull him apart. I started with Zeursg's right arm. Picking the arm up to scrutinise up close was cumbersome because Zeursg's body was flailing around underneath, so I pulled it off. Pop. Like cracking your knuckles, but louder, more satisfying.
There wasn't anything to look at on Zeursg's arm, less even than inside a crayfish leg, so I threw it over the balcony in disgust. I didn't bother with the left arm, so I went straight to the left leg. Pulling his leg off was more difficult and I had to get up and fetch a knife from my kitchenette and dig it into his hip joint. There wasn't a pop when it came off so I didn't bother looking at it, just flung it over the balcony.
Killing and then dissecting Zeursg was really easy, because Zeursg was only 4" high. He didn't stand a chance against my 1 litre water bottle and the knife was just the right size. Too small for a chicken, but just right for Zeursg.
Now I wanted to see if Zeursg was really dead. He hadn't moved yet and I wanted to see if his heart was still beating. I needed the serrated edge of the knife to slice through his skin and saw through his ribs. My hand slipped off the bottom rib and I accidentally sliced through a piece of Zeursg's intestine, which stank. Nearly made me want to wretch. But there was no blood. I was really getting curious about the heart so I swallowed hard and carried on.
I picked Zeursg's ribs apart like a chicken's wishbone. Wish. Wish. Wish. Wish. Wish. Wish, wish. There it was! Hiding behind Zeursg's lungs! I wanted to pierce his lungs and see if he was a smoker, but I didn't have a magnifying glass to look into his bronchiolli so I didn't bother. They went over the balcony too. Well they were meant to, but they were so light that they didn't make it and fell onto the hand rail.
Zeursg's heart looked motionless, so I stuck my finger onto it to feel for a pulse. It was warm and soft, and slightly slimy with bits of cream-coloured fat on it, but it was immobile. That pissed me off.
I was annoyed with Zeursg for bugging me, for making me kill him. I was annoyed that he died so quickly, that he didn't put up a fight. I was annoyed that he was so easy to pull apart, that there was nothing interesting inside him.
And then I realised that I had made Zeursg.