"Most horror stories that you have probably read began with, “It was a dark and stormy night,” but I will start with a different approach to my gruesome tale. If everyone starts the same, you see, everyone would act the same, talk the same, and probably look the same. Nevertheless, if everyone was the same, there would be no friends or enemies in life, and life simply could not exist. Being a different, strange person, I will decide to start out with:
One of my best and closest friends was a mass murderer."
"Rain pounded the windows of Ted’s small cottage like a hammer on a nail, and the wind shook the house with such force that it was surprising that it had not blown away. Ted Deelow was a prideful farmer and he cursed at the storm that might destroy his entire livestock and crops.
“Stupid weather,” he mumbled to himself, “Why today of all days?”
Thunder flashed near the mountains in the distance, and Ted shuddered in the cold. Suddenly, the door broke open and flew across the room, crashing into the wall. A dark figure stood in the opening, and glared menacingly at the poor farmer huddled in his small couch.
“W-who are you?!” he screamed.
The figure stepped forward, and Ted noticed for the first time that it was carrying a scythe-shaped weapon of some kind. Its red piercing eyes bore into his skull, and his frightened gauge in his mind flew up a notch.
“Wh-what is this?!” Ted yelled, “G-get away from m-me!”
Neighbors all around Ted’s cottage heard a terrifying scream that echoed against the trees and rocks, shattering the silence with a shivering chill that rested over the farmland. The screams stopped as suddenly as they started, but nearby farmers still had a cry for help ringing in their ears."
