Walking Down the Road of a Cold Hearted Killer

He put his cold pale hand over my hand to keep me from screaming, and he looked at me straight in the eyes. His skin was as white as snow, and he had a smile that ran from ear to ear, making the hairs at the back of my head stand on end. His hair looked as if it were scorched, and his eyes were pitch black. In his hand was a knife, and he was sliding the sharp end pressed against my neck. I was shaking in fear, and he seemed to be satisfied about my reaction to him.

I've managed to escape, but he captured me once more, and pinned me to the siding of the house. His hands gripped my shoulders, and I didn't even bother looking into his eyes.

"You're staying with me,"