Strutting along the sidewalk is a small scrawny old lady moving all about, as if the whole path were created just for her. Does she not know that is killing me? Her guts smell like fresh pet litter on the grass (preferred dog). It discusses me to the sickening point. Yet, that is decent news for me, for people this kind taste much better. I have decided to follow her to her destination, and end with her. Normally humans this kind don't make it too far in my book anyway.
I know so much about this humans, in fact, too much that I know their blood type by sniffing them miles away. I have been in many places around the world. Who would of known that humans are so dumb to not recognize a walking gnome on a highway, or by the road? Could it be because of my long time experience around this humans or that I am much to cautious, and highly smart when it comes to planning my routes, and stalking.
Thirty-six minutes have elapsed when the lady halts before a yellow Victorian house. She walks towards the garden located on the left side of the wooden doors house. Carefully she works her way downward brushing the biggest and most brightest red rose on a bush. If I'm not mistaken this is her house and that is her favorite rose from the garden.
The road is empty and silent, with the exception of the crispy chilly wind passing by. Perfect. With a loud thump, I tip myself over. She straightens her back to 180-degree angle, she turns around spotting me laid on the wet grass. I have captured her full attention, now making her way through the grass. She grasped me in a harshly manner, too harsh, in fact it's getting to my temper,and I can hardly wait any longer. She holds me with both her hands in front of her eyes for her to inspect. Her eyes are far too evil. I can't wait much longer.
Attaining all the power, and anger I was holding back, I placed my hands on her neck squeezing it, letting all my might and anger flow out. I teared out her nose into my mouth with my teeth, wanting more as I grind her in.
She struggled and fought back through my whole meal, not to mention screaming crazily insane.
She tasted bitter, and soggy, I concluded at the end when I dogged her bones beneath the dirt of her backyard, leaving her favorite rose on the top of her grave.
Skipping to the beat of my boots out of Massachusetts State, and on to Rhode Island territory.