"Tch, look at this monster, can't even stand up to defend himself."

"Dude, this has gone too far. He only has one H.P, we might kill him."

"Wasn't that the point?"

"No, we were just supposed to show him how monsters suck. We shouldn't kill him!"

"He'd just be a useless pile of dust on the dirt, no one will care or remember him. He has no friends, no family. He's just a useless sack of bones."

Crunch

He screamed.

"You broke his skull, man! Oh my god, we broke his skull! Oh god there's chunks all over the ground! Oh my god we're going to ja-"

"He'll just dust, he'll die out here! No one will know that it was us."

"He's just going to dust away if we leave him here, we need to get him to a hospital, we shouldn't be doing this!"

"And admit we almost killed him? You know the King hates us humans, we'll be screwed over and probably executed! And I'm not carrying a sack of bones over three towns to a stupid hospital."

"But-"

"He won't make it, let's just go home."

"Oh my God, skeleton guy I'm sorry, but it's too late."

And they had run off.

~~~~~~

Horror sat up with a gasp, his right hand immeadiatly grasping the large hole in his skull from the memory in his dream.

He could remember that day like it was yesterday, it lead to him becoming the man he was now. He had only been a small child when it had happened, two human teenagers had dragged him to a secluded area and then had attacked him with some poles they had pried off of some buildings. He had been left with his H.P dangerously close to 0, twitching in his own pool of blood and bone chunks as they had run away.

He would've died, if it wasn't for Death.

Death had found him and didn't hesitate to help the child he didn't even know. He had turned him into a vampire so his body could regenerate, and even though it took some time, Horror was back onto his feet again after a couple of days. The gap in his skull never healed, and he had gained a hatred for humans, but he also gained a respect for Death.

Without Death, he would've died that day.

Horror had done everything for Death since then. Death had said he didn't want Horror to owe his life to him, so Horror listened. But if Death ever needed help, Horror would immeadiatly be there to help him. The floor creaky? Horror would grab his axe, rip out the floorboard, and replace it. A wild wolf howling too loudly, keeping Death from sleeping? Horror would grab his trusty axe and get rid of it.

Yeah, Horror really liked his axe.

He had found it lodged into a tree, and decided to take a few swings with it at the tree. He decided to keep it, and brought it to their house with him. That axe he hsd grown attatched to overtime, since it helped him through certain sticky situations. Horror had never been good with magic, so the axe was quiet helpful for the skeleton. He had even named it Panikos.

Don't ask why, he just did.

Well, actually, Horror loved telling the story of why he named the axe that. He enjoyed reading Greek stories, and one of them was about a God named Panikos who would hide in the forest and scare people passing by. And Horror loved the idea of naming his weapon that, so he did.

He had a soft spot for Greek legend stories, they just had grown on him over the years.

Anyway, what did he have to do today?

Right, they had managed to capture those two skeletons inside of the castle and tied them up to question them. Judging by when they had zapped them, the effects lasted twelve hours, so that meant they were going to be awake soon.

Horror looked out of his window, watching the sun slowly rise above the treeline.

Yeah, soon.

Horror's room was small, two beds cramped into the small space. There wasn't much room to walk around, only enough for Horror to stand between the two beds. On his side of the room, there wasn't much, only a few scraches in the wall (yeah, he brought his weapon to his room, he slept with it under his pillow) and a clump of pillows pressed against the wal at the top, since his head was more sensitive if he accidently rolled into the wall. He had a thick blanket draped over his legs, one whichhe had stolen from a person who had tried to kill him a year ago.

When going out to kill, they took their stuff, since no one else would be using it.

They didn't kill for fun, they killed with a purpose. They aimed for people who were too far gone into hatred in order to be saved, killing them, taking their soul energy as food, and calling it a day.

It wasn't too hard to find them, they were practically everywhere.

A loud snore sounded, causing Horror to look over. Dust, his roommate, was hidden completely by his blanket, only one of his hands sticking out as he snored loudly. Horror had grown used to his snoring after years of sleeping with it, so he wasn't phased by it.

Dust wasn't sleeping with a pillow under his skull, it instead being inside of his arms as he cuddled with it in his sleep. Dust was a cuddly sleeper, and since he was a lonely person with no date, he would just cuddle with his pillow while he slept. Horror would've made fun of him for it, since Dust is sensitive to the dating game, but he didn't have any boyfriend either, so he had no room to talk.

Yeah, most skeletons were gay.

No one really knew why, they just were all gay.

Extremely gay.

"Dust, we got something to do," Horror said, throwing a pillow over at his roommate.

"Screw you..." Dust grumbled after the pillow bounced to the floor, pulling the blanket down so his skull stuck out from beneath his sheets, "Can I just not do it?"

"Nope," Horror said, standing up, "But I thought you'd want to do it."

"Who actually enjoys doing chores?" Dust grumbled, rolling over and pulling the blanket back over his head.

"We're torturing that guy we kidnapped yesterday."

Dust suddenly sat up, practically throwing himself out of bed happily as he realized he got to do something he very much enjoyed.

"Torturing?" He said, grabbing a dark blue sweater off of the edge of his bed and slinging it over his stained white t-shirt, "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

Dust, for some odd reason, loved torturing. No one knew the exact reason, but Horror had a theory. When he was younger, his younger brother had tortured him constantly by showing "who was in charge" in the family, controlling every little thing he did. But, since Death has killed his brother, he was free. Horror assumed that his love for torturing was because Dust was the one in control of another victim. He never really enjoyed other types of violence, only the torture type. The type where they strapped someone down and he got to do whatever types of things he wanted to do, such as stabbing, dislocating, you know, the usual.

And what a great person to have as your roommate.

What luck Horror got when picking his room.

But Dust didn't act all crazy like you would expect outside of the torture room. He liked to read, to goof off from time to time, loved to eat deer, and sometimes even grabbed a coloring book and colored, but that was rare these days. Dust wasn't one for blood, even if his unusual... interest would suggest otherwise. Horror had named his axe, so anything was possibly, really.

"Wait, did Fell talk to him yet?" Dust asked, pausing his actions, "Because I can't do my thing unless we do the talky-talky first, then the stabby-stabby next. First talky-talky, then we do stabby-stabby"

"Talky-talky, stabby-stabby?" Horror questioned the phrase, adjusting his grip on his beloved axe.

"I let my imagination loose," Dust said.

"I know now never to let your imagination loose, it creates weird sayings."

"But we could make a quote book for me, put down quotes like that."

Horror held in a giggle, because unknown to Dust, the other killers in the building had already created a quote book full of Dust quotes. He said some obnoxious stuff at times, and his friends had just started to write down some things he said. Then, they had gotten a large binder and started to fill it with Dust quotes. They called it the "Quote Binder of Insanity".

There was some weird quotes in there, such as, "If you sold your soul to a homeless man, would he give you his shoe or a bag of cheetos?", and, "Quack, Quack says the duck as he slowly drowns in the tears of his fallen friends".

《》《》《》

This regularly scheduled chapter will take a brief intermission as the author giggles at her own duck joke, which she has reread six times and still is giggling at.

《》《》《》

Those were the classics.

"Well, no, but you should get up anyway," Horror said.

"You waking me up early is the reason I can't find happiness in this cold, unforgiving world," Dust grumbled, dragging his own body towards the door.

"Stop complaining," Horror said, following him out of the roon after slipping on his completely black sweater.

"Nah," Dust grumbled.

《》《》《》

Sorry for the short chapter, I'm still dealing with the whole family issue problem and school, not to mention I have a headache, and this is late, so I'm just going to throw this short chapter out now and call it a day.