![]() ![]() I glance over my shoulder, a horror movie flashback hitting me, but he’s still dead. ![]() That gives me an excuse as to why I watched him bleed out for over thirty minutes-the same way he let his victims die. Sure enough, there’s nothing going on when I try to dial out. It was dropped within the first five seconds that he blindsided me. Putting the remote back in his pocket, I stand to go to my cell phone. My phone was working before I came in, so he shut it on at some other time. I’m fairly positive it’s a cell phone jammer. There’s an out-of-place little contraption next to my fireplace. I look around, and spot what the remote goes to. He’ll be revered as a mortal who died at the hands of a weak woman he failed to kill.Ī woman who got lucky enough to kill him first.Ĭurious, I pull on a glove and check his pockets, finding a remote. He’ll no longer be the nightmare who terrorizes women, haunting their lives. ![]() The Boogeyman will no longer be seen as the immortal that taunts the police or FBI. No longer will he steal lights as bright as my brother’s. With great amusement, I watch as the Boogeyman exhales his last breath. The world around us snuffed out that light. ![]() Marcus was a romantic to the core, with nothing but light and beauty shining from him. The people of that time didn’t respect or appreciate the anguish and torment tied into each tragedy he produced under the guise of true romance. He lived and breathed the words of a man his generation took for granted. The course of true love never did run smooth. ![]()
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