"Biscuit… biscuit… biscuit… biscuit…"

Molly scrambled to the door.

"How many biscuits can I have?"

The child exploded, coating her sister in a layer of hot body fluids.

"I told you not to run, didn't I?" He cackled maniacally, quickly following his laughing fit with a panicked scream of anxiety, "I ALWAYS TELL THEM NOT TO RUN, AND YET, WHAT DO THEY DO?"

Elizabeth now covered in the liquid remains of what was once her sister opened her mouth to scream, but not a sound came out.

"They always run. But you're not going to run, are you little girl?" The man advanced slowly, grinning literally from ear to ear, hands outstretched to either side of him.

Elizabeth trembled, tasting her dead sister's insides dribbling from her lip.

His massive, jagged teeth and his two, perfectly round eyes radiated pure, a stainless white color illuminated by the candle flames that rest on the altar behind the scarlet teen. He approached, his black cloak remaining as dark as space as he approached the light—his black hair drifting from side to side. "No," he laughed "You're not going to run! You're too smart to do that—you saw what happened to your little friends!"

Elizabeth shivered collapsed on the floor, tears running down her cheeks.

"You're not going to believe the offer I have in store for you, little girl. Since your three other friends managed to do precisely what I told them not to do, you're left! And I'm sure we'd get along just fine if you'd only hear what I have to say."

Elizabeth gazed up at him. Broken. Powerless. Mortal.

He managed an even bigger grin, "How would you like to become as powerful as I am?"