THIS IS THE LAST EDITED CHAPTER POSTED FOR THE BOOK. Please vote if you enjoyed!! :)

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" Hello, Chicago! Thanks for tuning in to America's #1 news channel. The only news channel that has a happy couple as their Anchor's. I'm Anchorman George Smiley, and with me every single day, 365 days a year and twenty-four hours a day, is my lovely wife, Anchorwoman Lavender Smiley. I hope everyone's having a happy, happy night!"

The camera panned to a woman in a purple blouse who's bright, fake smile matched her husband's. "As do I, Georgie-poo, as do I." For a moment, her grin faltered as if she had forgotten the camera was on her. "In the latest news, Joe's Sloppy House was closed due to suspected cannibalism, and rodent molestation! Yikes, not again!'

"Disturbing! Those rats are going to need some intensive therapy this time!" George Smiley chimed in with his phony laugh. "You'd think the dang restaurant would be closed by now, but I must say, their Sloppy Joe's are just to die for!"

"Very true, George, very true. Back to you, Tom!"

"The midnight news never fails to put me to sleep," I mumbled, toweling off my long hair and then throwing myself onto my bed, yawning. Sleep just hadn't been an option for me, even on a Friday night. Ever since school had started about a month ago, my entire sleep cycle was thrown off, and I was left watching the news on the tiny television in my room that I sometimes had to bang a few times to work while my parents slept like the dead.

I watched through tired eyes as weatherman Tom Farleigh did his best impersonation of rain and wind with his hands over the green screen picture of Chicago and looked like a pissed off Orangutan. Laughing to myself, my eyes slowly started to finally shut when--

"Breaking news!" Suddenly George Smiley was back on the television and a picture of two handsome men with magnificent hair, pristine navy blue suits, and brilliant white smiles flashed onto the screen. "Devin Star, President of the top advertising company in America, D & S Towers, and his son, VP of D & S and teen heart-throb, David Star, were both spotted this afternoon having a dinner date with--"

I shut off the television. If there was anything I was sick and tired of more than anything, it was seeing those two slime balls on the television, in the newspaper, and on the front of every magazine simply because they owned a successful business and were extremely good looking. Ever since David Star had been contacted by the modeling industry five years before, he had appeared naked with only his hands in front of his privates on the front of Vogue magazine, was featured on Ellen sixteen times, and even starred in a few movies. At the sound of his name, every girl in school's ovaries spontaneously combusted, and I was sick and tired of it. Especially because the media had recently become obsessed with his father, Devin Star, who had too many famous lovers to count and had allegedly been pulled over for drunk driving times any without any sort of punishment.

My guess was that the officer was a female, or Devin had given the officer an autograph.

Shaking my head to myself, I tossed the remote onto my nightstand right as I heard a huge bang outside. The noise jolted me into awareness and my eyes shifted to my bedroom window. Honestly, I had almost peed myself, I had been so startled. Was a raccoon getting into the garbage again?

I threw my head back onto the pillows, groaning as I remembered my father telling me to come out with the bat and scare the critter off if I heard that thing messing with the garbage again.

Ah, let it eat a few rotten bananas. Those things live a miserable life.

I still had to pee, but I was way too lazy to start getting up. Wiping at my tired eyes, I threw the blankets off and rolled off the bed to go use the bathroom. Just because I was so amazing, I ended up getting my foot wrapped in my comforter and sliding the rest of the way off the bed, hitting my head on my nightstand in the process.

Seriously?

Shivering from the unbelievable cold temperature in my room and rubbing my throbbing head, I stumbled across my dark room, blindly searching for a pair of socks and my baggy black sweatshirt, and then continued into the bathroom. As I switched the light on in my bathroom and gazed briefly into the mirror, my heart skipped a beat.

I covered my mouth to suppress a scream.

There was a Ghost Face costume hung behind me in the mirror. You know, the costume with the exaggerated white face, empty black eyes, and menacing black cloak. It had replaced the spot where I had hung a picture of the beach on my wall.

Turning around, I ripped the damn thing off the wall and threw it to the ground. My Dad thought it was funny to pull a prank on me around Halloween, eh? Now I would have to get him back good. He knew how jumpy I was after watching all of the Saw movies!

Frustrated, I stomped out of the bathroom, grabbed my handy-dandy rubber spider that my father never failed to think was real, crept out of my room and down the hallway to my parent’s bedroom, placed my hand gently on their doorknob, and slowly began to open it to lay down the spider next to my father's sleeping shadow on the bed when--

Eeeeeeeerrrr--

I heard the sound of the front door slowly opening, then small bells. My mother had insisted on having little bells over our front door in the shape of kittens. Just like a store. Don't ask.

Heart in my ears and the hair on the back of my neck standing erect, I went back into my room, softly closed the door behind me, and pressed my back against it, panting like I had run a marathon. Realizing that I probably should have woken up my parents first, I started to panic. If there was someone in the house, would they murder my parents first because their door was open? Could I wake up my parents without the intruder knowing? Was it the raccoon? The wind?

An axe murderer that wanted to chop my head off?!?!

As a crash once again sounded from outside, I leaped from my locked bedroom door and rapidly searched for my cell phone. It didn't matter what the cause of the door opening was or the crash, I had to at least have my cell phone on me to call 9-1-1 if it really was an intruder. Gripping my cell phone in one hand, I grabbed my old softball bat in the other, opened my bedroom door, and started down the dark hallway towards the kitchen where I had heard the front door open.

"Hello?" I asked the open air, shivering as a light cold breeze hit my face as I entered the kitchen. If someone had actually responded, which of course they wouldn't have, they would have been in for it. I was known as the Sledge Hammer on my recreational softball team three years before.

I slowly lowered my bat in confusion. The front door was locked and closed. Raising my bat again, I entered the living room to see that it was empty. The dining room was empty as well.

Boom!

There was another crashing sound outside. How were my parents still asleep, you ask? Well, while I had been struggling to get back on my sleeping schedule since school had started, my parents slept like babies because they were used to getting up early for work. And as I palmed the front door knob and watched the automatic porch light go on outside, I started to really, really wish that I had been sleeping like a baby as well. That light was only activated when a significant weight came up the front steps.

Which meant there really was an intruder.

I could hear someone walking around on the porch. Shutting my eyes momentarily, I hurled the door open and jumped outside, swinging my bat around like a mad woman. "AAAAHHHH!! DIE, DIE--!"

"Meow."

I froze mid-swing, gazing down at the small black cat that sat on the second to last step on my porch.

"You have got to kidding me," I said, putting a hand to my chest where my heart was still pounding out of control. All of that, and no axe murderer? I pointed my bat at the cat that stared up at me with large green eyes. "Dude, not cool. Not cool at all."

The cat tilted its head to the side as if to say, 'Dude, you're the one with the bat.'

"You're right, you're right. I probably overreacted with the whole bat swinging thing, but I thought someone was on the porch! What was I supposed to do?"

I swear the cat narrowed its eyes at me.

"Don't look at me like that. I could have soiled myself or something!" I set my baseball bat next to the front door, pocketed my cell phone, and crossing my arms over my chest. "Well, what are you waiting for? I don't have any cat food for you and my mom buys soy milk. Trust me, you won't like it. You'll have a better chance at the house next-door. Miss. Livington is obsessed with you guys."

The cat curled its tail and ears inward, lowering its head slightly. I felt my lip starting to pucker out at how adorable and sad the poor animal now looked.

"Fine! I'll get the soy milk!"

I went back into the house and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge. Pausing for a moment, I then opened the pantry and took out a box of chocolate chip cookies. Cats liked cookies... right?

I came back outside and lowered a bowl of soy milk to the ground in front of the cat as well as a cookie. The dang animal just continued to look up at me with its big sad eyes.

"What are you looking at? My pet goldfish died a week ago. This is all I got." I shifted on my feet, dipping a cookie in my own glass of milk. "So, enjoy last night's Chinese in the garbage can? It sounds like you were really having fun--"

It was then I spotted something crumpled up and shiny in the middle of the driveway and stopped mid sentence. Coming to the railing of the porch, I leaning over and squinted to try and figure out exactly what it was.

Time started to come to a terrifying halt. It was the garbage can alright, but it was crumbled like paper into a giant ball of tin. I analyzed the feline from head to toe. It was very clean and a decent size, definitely got its share of field mice if it was a stray. But there was no way in hell...

With a startling hiss in my direction, the cat snatched the cookie that I had laid out for it, hopped off the porch, and dashed down the driveway behind a pine tree. Curious, I started to descend the porch steps. The wind kicking up as I set foot on the driveway and stood in front of the smashed up tin. I started to bend down, shining the light from my phone screen along the metal. Imagine my surprise when I saw massive handprints along the tin and...and..

"Claw markings," I whispered. I turned back towards the porch, regretting entirely that I had left my bat there. What the hell was I thinking? It was time to call 9-1-1. It was seriously, seriously time to call 9-1-1. Whoever had smashed the garbage can was unbelievably strong Unbelievably powerful. And if I didn't know any better...

I shook myself. Maybe it wasn't claw markings. Maybe I was imagining all of this, having a nightmare. It's just a terrible, terrible nightmare, I thought.

Something darker than the night moved behind the pine tree at the edge of my driveway, catching my attention. I knew that the cat had scurried over there, but the rustle just didn't seem to come from something that small. "Hello?" I whispered shakily, "is anyone there? Hello?"

Yeah, an axe murderer is there! Get the hell inside, you idiot!

I cautiously shined the light from my phone towards the pine tree. As soon as the small beam of light from my phone hit it, I saw a shadow of a small child moved further behind the tree from my view.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I was just a child. "Wait! Come back! You don't have to be afraid of me," I said gently, starting to walk closer and peer around the pine tree. I had experience with children because I had grown up with younger cousins, plus I had babysat most of the summer. After practically chasing the child all the way around the tree, I got close enough that they had stopped trying to get out of the beam from my light.

"I can help you," I assured. "Have you lost your mom?"

The child remained entirely silent. I couldn't see their face. In fact, now that I was within five feet of them, I couldn't see anything. Their eyes. Their hair. Their shirt. Nothing. They were just... a silhouette. The only thing that I could perfectly make out now was a massive, curved object in their hands that reflected the light from my phone.

A scythe.

"Where the heck did you get that?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips, laughing a little uneasily. "My mom wouldn't even let me get a bouncy ball when I was little!"

The shadow tip its head to the side, reminding me of the cat on the porch. An object flew at me, hitting my chest hard. I dropped my light to the ground where the half-eaten cookie I had given the cat now lay.

"What...the...?"

Suddenly, the shadow-like child started to rapidly move towards me, growing and stretching until their size was intimidate larger than mine. A deep, menacing snicker came from the shadow in front of me. They weren't a child. Oh no, they were not a child at all. It was a full grown man. And whatever was in their hands.... Yeah... it was definitely not the plastic toy I had convinced myself it was earlier.

The massive shadow swung out with the scythe. "Holy--!" I ducked right at the last second, stumbling backwards. A high pitched whistle shot through the air as the blade sliced at me again, tearing a part of my shirt. "Are you crazy--!" I reeled backwards as quickly from the man as I could as he swung again, landing hard on my hip and elbow in the process.

The porch light flickered violently. Rolling over and grabbing my throbbing elbow, I patted the cold asphalt of the driveway, frantically searching for my phone that had fell from my hand when I fell. “No phone! What a typical scenario! Now I'm going to be cut into little pieces and stuck in the mailbox or something!"

Give them ideas, why don't you?!

Realizing my attacker was, oddly enough, patiently waiting for me to quit talking to myself, I jumped up onto my feet, rapidly searching the empty darkness around me. I gripping the cookie I had grabbed off the ground in my hand, my only available weapon. “Come and get me, you creep!” I screamed to the air. "I'm not going anywhere! So--so show yourself, you bastard! I know you're there! I might be tinier than you...a hell of a lot tinier, like really tiny compared to you, but I'm determined! Ask my math teacher! I ended the last year of my Junior year with a solid C!"

Silence.

Silence.

More silence.

"Boo," a deep voice purred into my ear. His voice was like an empty, baritone melody that looped around my neck, tightening the air to my brain. I was stunned for a solid twenty seconds, unable to move as the man's hot breath scorched my neck. Finally, I felt the loop around my neck release. I found a frill, unfamiliar scream deep inside of me that I didn't know existed and opened my mouth and released it with all of my might, whipping the cookie hard towards his voice. After hearing a deep "oof" in response as the cookie nailed the intruder in the head, I turned and made a break for the front door when--

I tore my gaze up at the massive cloaked man before me. He had moved in the blink of an eye. "Oh..." My gaze traveled up his feet to his shadowy face for what seemed like miles. "Sweet...." I locked eyes with his scythe. "Jesus," I squeaked.

"Wrong," the cloaked man stated in a prideful way, a slight accent thickening his voice. The man removed his hand from my stomach. I hadn't even noticed it was there and gasped the heat of his hand left the scarred tissue on my belly. The Shadow Man snickered, stepping closer to me, breathing me in as I stared up at him in horror, bringing my neck back at an awkward angle because he was so impossibly tall. "So very, very wrong," the man continued. ""You know, I'm not one to judge a girl on the first meet and greet, but it was pretty inconsiderate of you to give me oatmeal raisin while you munched down on a chocolate chip cookie like a paper shredder. Raisin? Honestly, what the hell do you think I am? A squirrel?"

My jaw was almost unhinging it was so wide. "Oh....my...god!"

The cloaked man turned around quickly. "Oh, crap! Where?" He then started to chuckle, slowly facing me again. "Man, I crack myself up. Like, all the time. I've even written down some jokes about myself just to... you know, break the ice. Does that make me conceited?"

I managed a shrug, my mouth running completely dry of words.

"Ok, ready? Did you hear about the man who looked up synonyms for "death" in a thesaurus?" He waited for my response, which never happened. "He found himself under words related to loss!" The Grim Reaper braced himself on his knees, laughing loudly and hysterically. "Get it? Because I ripped the bastard's throat out and he had no idea he was dead until he looked up death in a thesaurus?!"

"I...I..."

"If you have to explain it, the jokes over." He wiped at an imaginary tear from under his hood, his laughter fading. "You're a stick in the mud, Faith Williams."

It was the freaking Grim Reaper in front of me. The. Freaking. Grim. Reaper. The freaking Grim Reaper was standing in my driveway, looming over me with his scythe -- which looked razor-sharp and ready to slice me into ribbons, by the way.

"I can't believe you really exist," I murmured numbly, still taking in the massive cloaked man in front of me. The Grim Reaper really existed. And he was right in front of me, which meant only one thing. I felt myself swaying, losing my equilibrium entirely. "I--I think I see the light..."

"Of course I exist, stupid. Do you want my autograph? I could have signed your amputated leg, had you not dodged my scythe." He then motioned to the light by my house. "And that light you're seeing? That's called a porch light, sweetheart."

"Right." Was it just me, or was it suddenly impossible to breath? "I should--I should probably get going. I have to--uh, shave my hairy legs. " I took a step back.

He took a casual step towards me, snickering under his breath.

I took another step back.

The Grim Reaper took another step towards me. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to get away from me, cupcake. That's not very hospitable. I came out of my way to see you tonight. Aren't you going to show me around your house? Death has to use the little boy's room."

"Death?" The name sounded so familiar to me, but I shook it off. "Didn't plan on showing you anything of mine. Who dresses up as the Grim Reaper and shows up at a person's home? That's--that's sick!"

"Ouch. Friend zoned, much? Do I have to show you my drivers license? I'm the Angel of Death, babe. If you're going to be this bitchy, I'll go pee by the mailbox or something."

"You're not my friend," I blurted.

The Grim Reaper put a hand to his chest, appalled. "Faith-poo, don't do this to me! After all we've been through!" he said dramatically, then pretended to sob for a good minute. Ceasing his fake tears, he loomed over me, seeming to grow and stretch even taller than before. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He twirled his scythe in his hand. "RUN, HUMAN!" he roared, as lightening struck the sky above, lighting up the trees and revealing a huge set of wings jutting out of the massive man in front of me.

My screams mixed with his maniacal laughter as I ran all the way back into the house, locked the front door, and pressed myself against it, sliding down until my butt hit the kitchen tile hard. I was so lost. So utterly, completely lost and confused beyond belief. Did that really just happen? I internally asked myself over and over again.

I slowly lifted up my shirt, revealing the ugly scar on my stomach from a fishing accident when I was younger. Whoever that man was outside, his presence had definitely triggered an unbearable clenching feeling in and around my scar. My doctor had told me that the wound had healed an odd way, that I might get pains in the area if it was ever touched. I didn't know it would hurt so bad that I would be blinking back tears.

A sudden realization came to me as I clutched my scarred skin. Hadn't he touched my stomach before? Did he trigger the pain?

I heard a creak on the porch outside the door and held my breath as there was a pattern of soft knocks behind me, silently praying that it wasn't who I thought it was.

***

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