• And I saw him. A tall man of no discernible height. A thin ghostly figure he was, with sunken cheeks and deep set eyes. His long, wavy black hair was parted neatly down the middle. And those eyes, a piercing light blue, so cold and heartless. He had no eyebrows, but he was beautiful none the less. He had a long pointy nose and pointy ears, partially hidden by his hair. His skin was so pale, nearly transparent. It was strange to look at him; he seemed to glimmer like a reflection on water.

    I guess I expected something different than the black suit with a white vest and white button-up shirt. He wore shiny black shoes and carried a long black cane with a silver owl's head at the top. He was so beautiful.

    But as I stared at him, he smiled, sending chills down my spine. That smile would haunt me for the rest of my life. Each and every tooth, though perfectly straight, was pointed, and sharp, ready to devour anything that got into their path. Ready to shred my soul and watch me suffer for eternity.

    He continued to stare at me and tighten his long, bony fingers with long, sharp fingernails around the head on his cane. And then he spoke. His voice so deep, almost hollow sounding.

    "It's not over. Not even close."