None of the characters, locations and miscellaneous are owned by that of this author, with the exception of Dan Amsterdam who is owned by Dan Amsterdam.
The night outside was quiet in Madison, Deleware. For many of the residents this served as a welcome atmosphere after the incidents that took place over two years ago. For now, all that remained was the occasional nightmare of zombies, werewolves and ventriloquist dummies. The town has seen that it will remain this way, for the gateway to the horrors has been kept under wraps and not one of Madison's citizens would dare think of unleashing such twisted powers again.
Instead, a stranger to this town would arrive to reinstate the cycle of fear.
Yes, he could see fit as none other. The Great Daniel Amsterdam, as he so gladly referred to himself to, approached the high school in which the morbid artifact was kept. "Tonight is the night, for tonight begins my magnum opus! Oh how dreadful it is yet, that not one ounce of fanfare upon my arrival." Amsterdam sighed in falsetto and threw back his elegant satin cape. He sprinkled the sidewalk with rose petals in order to make the ground worthy for him to set foot on. Opening the front door with a set of forged keys, Amsterdam strongly wanted to make his typical deramatic entrance in doves and fireworks flew out, but this task would require him to remain in an unnoticed state. Stealthily he pranced down the hallway over to the glass case where the infamous typewriter of terror was held under lock and key. Amsterdam pulled out his jewel-encrusted fan, which would serve as a glass cutter in this instance, and opened the case to claim his grand prize.
"Is someone here?" The booming voice of what was most likely a security guard echoed down the hallway. Frantically Amsterdam yanked the typewriter out of the case and began mashing the keys. "there is not" Amsterdam jotted down in response to the security guard's raging query. In nearly a split-second Amsterdam was teleported miles away from the crime scene.
Finding himself in what felt like a wheat field, Amsterdam moaned in content escastsy. "Marvelous! Oh how simply marvelous!"
With another stroke of the keys Amsterdam teleported himself back to his sparkling mansion. "All of it, the world, it can be all for my taking. A new dawn has arisen, and now all shall know the glory of my unparelleled art!" With that he rubbed himself over with lavious oils and retired to his bedroom. Tommorrow morning he would unfurl his dreams.