Blood is Only Sweet When Dead

Chills from the Grave

It may seem strange to you. It may just seem like one big dream. Between life and death. Between the start and the end. Who are we to be such creatures? The eyes of hell cannot compare to the unholy creations we desire to be the most. It all started on a freezing night. The wind blew the trees, the branches scraped along window. Our only source of light was a lantern. I shook, my bones rattling, my blood freezing up in my veins. I could not bare the silence in this house. What I'm about to say about this home may disturb you. I moved into this house about a month ago. I didn't like the color. Red liquid dripped from the ceilings. The cabinets were almost torn off. The color of the cabinets made me sick. Only the color of rust, makes me sick. The furniture was ripped open and all the stuffing was everywhere. The walls, oh the walls-- they were corroded brown, like blood when dry. The first night, I could not sleep for one second. I kept hearing noises from outside and I felt like somebody was watching me. I lived alone, so the nights were quiet. I forgot to mention, my name is Charles Lee, I'm twenty five years old. When I moved into my new home, I asked the neighbors, who lived in this house before? But I did not get an answer. The cold winds got stronger. The lantern was running out of fluid. I cannot feel my body. I try to move but something was holding me back. I kept hearing noises from the back door, but nothing was there. Why am I so paranoid? Nothing bad happened here, right? I spoke to myself, "Why did I move here?" I looked around, chills ran up and down my spine, I still had the feeling that someone was staring down at me. I rubbed my hands together to keep warm. I tried turning on the heater, but it didn't work. I went back into my room and lied down.