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She, the One.
On a bright beautiful day where,
Considering the time the couple had stumbled in upon,
Not one single fallen leaf is stray.
They settled quietly into their beds, not expecting.
On a sunny ominous day filled with weary life,
Not expecting the girl with the ominous eyes,
Simply nothing is planned to go right,tonight.
Not planning on being captured by hell.
A deathly gorgeous young lady swiftly floats,
Now it is her time, her time to indulge in the skin,
Through the doors of what once was her own.
In the skin of those who she detests.
Taking a look around she finds it intolerable,
Now it is her, who starts moaning to startle,
That it is she, the one who used to belong.
To startle those who rest on the ground floor.
Inside the dreary abandoned old house,
Confused from the moaning they stir out of bed,
The air was icy and the floorboards creaked.
Shuffling the feet of themselves into the long hallway.
Voices that were unheard but felt by the enterers,
An extensive hallway with indistinct voices at the end,
Pierced the skin of the fragile intruders.
Voices that cry their names, and hollar high screams.
The deeper she explored the more she revealed,
The voices are her, screaming for their attention,
She with definite black hair and pale,malicious skin.
To draw them into their own murder.
She, the one with terrifyingly skinny limbs,
A murder she plans to turnover into their own,
She, the one with a frigid, fragile voice.
She plans a suicide of her victims.
Thriving in the corner of a deeply darkened room,
He leads his partner into the living room,
She waited for the next alarmed victim of her wrath.
Where they grope the walls in search of a lightswitch.
Just sitting with hardly any movement...waiting.
With surprise the woman feels something so icy,and cold,
Not breathing or giving sign of heartbeat...waiting.
It moves beneath her finger tips, to grab onto her wrist.
The plan was to be executed by a quarter to twelve,
The intensely freezing hands belonged to her,
It was she who would plan such a horrific event.
The one who had a well thought projection of their death.
Only she could capture a moment like this,
The one who grasps the woman to feel what it feels to live,
A moment where the blood stops flowing forever...
The one who would end that fragile life she was living...
A cozy, cheerful couple had entered and now,
A high-pitched scream echoed in the room, a light shined,
She knew it was time; the time to end it all.
And the ghostly figure of the young lady was revealed.
Her blood curdled at the sight of the affection,
A murky black line floated around her body,
The fondness that wouldn't last another second.
And a horrifically beautiful face was finally seen.
Eerie red eyes peeking from the corner,
She wouldn't let the moment last as her eyes turned black,
It is she, the one who slaughters the body of many.
Her black eyes screamed the words murder,death,blood...
It is she, the one who torments the jubilant.
She outstretched her hand and grabbed the woman,
It is she, the one who penetrates the souls of youth.
Grabbed her by the throat and threw her away.
Those two who disturbed the young ladys living,
The cold grasp on her throat stopped the air flow,
Were bound to be the next to leave.
Causing a quick gasp followed by her head hanging low.
Yet not by there own choice, but by matters that,
The man disgusted, frightened backed away from the scene,
Were beyond their own control.
Slowly he tried to escape the lives that she now controlled.
The tires on the vehicle were slashed,so broken,
She stared him straight in the eyes and sent him a feeling,
It was she, who did the damage of such.
She sent a feeling of struggle with every breath.
It was she, who destroyed the faith of the two,
She walked swiftly towards him to watch his body drop,
It was she, who beckons them further into the dark...
Turning away and leaving him behind to suffer...