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Thug Aim

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“Trolls,” I said to myself as I closed my browser. “Skeletons? Just appearing?” It was not likely. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to be reading horror stories this late on Halloween, but I was alone and bored. For the thin and slender man I was, it was a wonder that I was still single. It felt like I would be alone forever.

“Zal!” I yelled to my cat as she ran across the hall outside my room. “Go away!” I was still mad at that ball of fuzz for breaking my wax Jack statue from the movie, Nightmare Before Christmas. It was my favorite creation. It was also hard to make. Candles were my source of wax for Jack. She ran back and looked at me, meowing.

“Go away! You broke my candle Jack and I—”

I stopped mid-sentence when I heard a horrible, grating sound on my window. The next thing I knew, I heard my front door thrown open, followed by what could only be described as the sound of bones rattling.

I peered around the corner and I saw it. Its bones glistened in the soft light of the hallway lamp as it popped out and into view. There was a skeleton in my house, and it had just seen me. If only I had a gun and hadn’t had that accident. My hand was damaged last year in a wreck, and I lost thug aim, which was my favorite way to hold a pistol.

Panicking, I ran to my room and slammed the door shut. Unfortunately, I forgot that tomorrow was laundry day and there were clothes on the ground under the door, so it failed to shut.

I saw it. I saw the skeleton slide his hand inside the crack of my door. The skeleton slowly opened the door. Acting out of fear, and not knowing what else to do, I got on the floor, shaking as I tried to climb under my bed.

The next thing I knew was that the skeleton was in my room, and everybody walked the dinosaur.

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