Oh God. Oh no. I can't breathe. I thought he was normal. My heart was beating like a racehorse. I had opened the door and the stench just hit me. I couldn't take my eyes away from the carnage that was in front of me. I heard footsteps coming toward the open garage door. I shut the door gingerly, then looked down. There was at least a half inch of blood coating the floor. It was soaking into my shoes, and covering my socks. The sickening part was that the blood was still warm. He started knocking on the door.
"Is everything OK in there?" He asked.
"Yes" Was my quick reply. My head turned back to the pile of bodies. I examined their faces. They couldn't have been toddlers. None of them were. Some of them had limbs missing, and their throats slit. Others were already rotting. A few were so burnt, I couldn't tell if they were human. The doorknob started to turn. I didn't care. If He could do this then I'm already dead. The door burst open and He sprang through. The grin on his face was horrifying.
"What's the difference between a Mercedes and a pile of dead babies?" My mouth was too dry too speak, so I just shrugged in response.
"I don't have a Mercedes in my garage."
