They all died.
And he did nothing. He hid in the shadows. He hoped never to be discovered.
He saw all the victims, as they were eviscerated, tortured, bled and shot. He heard their panicked pleadings and cries. All to the malicious enjoyment of a twisted mind.
And he did nothing. He hid in the shadows. He hoped never to be discovered.
He witnessed the innocent, barely aware of their impending deaths at the hands of those they called neighbours. Amidst the mob, the life-taker soaked in the unbridled blood-lust that hung heavily in the air.
And he did nothing. He hid in the shadows. He hoped never to be discovered.
He watched, as the mob invaded his home with much rage and hate. They smashed the doors in. They shattered the windows.
Then they took his host.
He was raised onto a stake. Flogged with barbed wires. Skin raked raw with pitchforks. Then they pulled him down, only to rip him limb to limb in a macabre tug-of-war.
And he did nothing. He hid in the shadows. He hoped never to be discovered.
And he never was.
"Time to find another host," thought the cat, as Schizzy breathed his last pained breath.
[HEADING=2]Yes, I was the killer. [br][br]And I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids![/HEADING]
