He opened the door as so many times befor the old man not giving thought to a stranger

inside in wait.

His smell gave him away even in the darkness it's always that moment just befor that

excite's me so.



As his feeble hands flicked the switch he gave no thought  to a intruder

he only cursed the light.

Godammit!  I just bought that bulb!

His voice like a memory lingred within my thoughts of hatred.



The mouse was in the vypers cage and I thrived in knowing the strike would

be savage in nature.

He stumbbled his way to the kitchen and as he was met by only the promise of more darkness it was then he would hear my hiss.



Hello Jim it's been so very long.

His eye's were so perfect in there grasp of terror for he knew the devil well.

Who's there? Get the hell outta my house I'll call the cops!



I couldnt hide my laughter Oh Jim how can you call the cops

When the phones dead besides didnt you miss me?

I dont know what your talking about who the hell are you?



The fear was a drug I knew his heart couldnt take much more but much like the phone he fumbled for it wasnt the only thing that would be left dead in this house.



He staggred back blind was the mose that soon would know my fangs.

My arms around wrapped around the weak old fool he let out a cry but I muffled it

with leather glove.



Oh dear uncle Jim dont you remember me?

You said I was always your favorite you sick ******* *******!

How many were there ?

What's wrong are you scared good you ******* freak!



I felt his body tremble  just as helpless as he had made me feel

You know old man it's only fitting I should **** you for so long ago you killed me.

His withred lips began to speak my name but soon he felt the sting and the

blood choked the sentance from his mouth.



His throat slit I let the old man crawl painting his kitchen floor a crimsom of pure devilish delight.

I dropped the phone in front of him and enjoyed as he in a last effort to survive

dialed the numders the gurgling noise a sweet music to my ears.



What's wrong Uncle Jim you seem so unhappy?

He convulsed in the floor I watched my creator die in such a beutiful demise.

The sound so sweet to hear my memories were washed clean my past was dead with the

wrinkled old garbage in floor I drove the blade in agian thats for the past you

I drove it in again thats for that helpless disgusting feeling of filth.



I drove it deeper agian and agian blood painted me i was washed clean of his decay.



How i love family get togathers