• The thief stalked down the streets of New York, his hand on his gun. He had seen a bloodied cop back away, and he knew that something was up. Suddenly, the night was torn by a screech. The thief stopped, then slowly walked towards the sound. His breath came heavily, and he knew he shouldn’t walk towards the sound. But he couldn’t stop walking. It was as if he wasn’t in control of his body anymore. As he walked forward, he heard a crunching sound behind a hill of trash. He didn’t look closely at a figure on the hill, because he didn’t want to see what it was. But I did. It was a skull, half the flesh torn off of it. The thief looked out from behind the pile of trash, and he saw a beast. It was made of a black, oily liquid, and it stood on two slimy legs, forming claws at the end. No body came from them, only tons of long slimy tentacles, dripping onto a white face of a woman. A woman with glassy, staring eyes. The torn remains of her legs lay a couple feet away. The tentacles oozed into the opening of her neck. The eyes rolled, turning black with the oil. Her mouth moved, and from her mouth was brought a scream, her last scream.
    “Welcome to my nightmare. Your skin is now my coat. You flesh is now my food,” growled a high keening voice, and low booming voice, both speaking as one. The skin of the women flew together, and the tentacles entered the body. The eyes were still black. The monster of oil then shot out it’s tentacles, grabbing the thief’s legs out from under him. He screamed, and shot the tentacles, but to no avail.
    “Don’t fight it. Join me. Don’t you want to join me?” said the body of the woman, smiling charmingly. The thief looked at her, then started as one of the tentacles ripped into the back of his skull. The eyes turned black, and a laughing boomed out.
    “I see you,” the two voices growled at me, and the tentacles swarmed at me. They grabbed me and tare right into my body. I saw my liver go flying, my intestines laying out of my body. The voice booms out again, but I can’t hear it. The world dissolves and I’m standing on a hill. Down below I see piles of bones. Suddenly, an ocean of blood flows over them. It streams up the hill, and I slip into it. As I try to swim out, the blood congeals on me. I can’t move.
    “Welcome to my nightmare. Welcome to your hell,” laughs the voices, and the blood starts to burn. I can’t breath. I can’t move. I’m being dissolved by the blood that is reverberating with the voices.
    “Welcome to the rest of your life. It will last forever. Don’t worry though; after that you’ll die.” And the laughing keeps booming and booming and booming.