Skorn.

I will spare none of you peasants. Today you will cease to exist. You will never consume another breath aside from the ones you breathe from this moment until the end. Your relationships you've concocted with every human you've encountered while in this place we call earth will continue no further. Not your mother. Not even your father. Yes, the same father who you thought was dead. He's not dead, he just wanted for you to believe he was. His wish will be granted with pleasure. Even your dog will be laid to rest beside your pathetic village. 

I will level your home and piss in the ashes. I will hang your friends from the tire swing tree in the back yard. Oh yes, under the same tree where you made that pact so many years ago.

I'm the reason your cousins automobile "malfunctioned". I was there the first time your junkie of a brother shot up. I loaded the needle. I have always been here, you're just a new thread to weave into this fabric of devestation. Vegetation wilts in my presence. I've sharpened the blade, loaded the musket, damned the torpedoes and infiltrated the mainframe. I am the negative effect of free will. I'm not here for any reason. You are not special and you are not specific. I am the champion of the ashes and the dust. I am the scarecrow.

I wish you never quit piano at 6. I know you regretted never telling Lucy Beelz how you felt in 10th grade, and then she choked on her own vomit the night of the ring dance she went to, with your best friend. I know apple crumble tastes strange to you but you eat it anyway cause "Grammy is the GOAT".

If I haven't made myself clear, I am not here for just your body. Your vessel will be dispatched quickly after your essence is removed and buried in concrete. I will steal the very memory of you from this plane of existence. Since that day, you knew your legacy was on the table.

Now make a choice, pull the trigger or take my hand, you fucking pussy.