Aileen walked over to him with the same courage of a mouse to a lion. Cautionary as she was, there was an air of respect from her. Creeper looked upon...her, a disgusting white canvas in need of an artisans brush. ‘Are you ready Aileen?’ the Creeper asked a growing smirk upon his dirty face. Aileen was frightened of the needles but not the man who held them. She tried to not let her shivers reach the outside surface of her body. She handed over her hard worked sketch of the marks that would. The plan could be sprung at any time and he could just wait until Thomas showed up drunk, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. Finally, the day came. Fall had worn away and Winter was beginning to bring its icy touch. The Reverend was as busy as could be with preparation for the yearly Christmas Cantata, but that didn’t make him less attentive to Thomas’s state when he came to the door that fateful Friday night. Thomas staggered to the door and began to pound on it.“Let me in you old. More

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