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  1. I retract my whip-like arms and get ready to strike the boy; ah yes, I am good. He won't stand a chance. I giggle and then strike!
  2. My arms begin to transform; they slowly ooze into oily-whips. His face distorts into an expression of pure insanity. The boy is mine now.
  3. He screams.
  4. The boy falls back -- I think he's terrified of me. I play with his emotions, and I tell him that it was a pleasure to watch Karen die.
  5. I assume that horror I see in his eyes is a result from realizing I have no face. I smile. This will be a lot more fun than I thought. Good.
  6. The whispers giggle with me. I ask them to stop, and silence follows. Then I step forward into the light and watch his face twist in horror.
  7. He steps outside, and I walk into the middle of the street - not into the light, though. I want him to be in suspense. He does look scared.
  8. A few minutes have past, and I see motion at his window. This is fun. I think he may come out tonight to see who's been following him. Nice.
  9. I watch him go inside his house, and I wait. Ah yes. The whispers tell me their excitement; they still remember Karen. This makes me giggle.
  10. It's been a week now. One week of building his paranoia, adding to the anxiety felt from the death of his girlfriend. Tonight - I will act.
  11. I follow him to his house, giggling all the way as I watch his fear grow. He senses me. Soon, I shall show myself -- and death.
  12. I purposely step on the pavement hard enough for him to hear my footfalls. Of course, I don't allow him to see me; not yet. I simply follow.
  13. The whispers grow in anticipation -- it's their lust. And I wait patiently. Oh yes. This'll be fun. He doesn't even know what he is, yet.
  14. It's abnormally dark tonight; this is how I like it. And I am following him home from work again. Of course, he has no idea. The poor soul.
  15. My story begins with a whisper -- not a twitter.