It was a little past eleven when Cecil decided he couldn't go to sleep. He got up, planning to go into the den and try to read there. But Maggie's light was on.

He sighed, opening the door. She was lying on her stomach, her head beneath the pillows. Before he turned off the light, Cecil uncovered her head. They both gasped as she sat up.

"I am so sorry to wake you," he set the pillow down; "I'll just be on my way." Just as he was turning, Cecil saw Maggie's eyes. They were red. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

She sniffed. "No." She said this in a defensive way, that way that usually means she's lying to herself.

He sat down beside her. "Did I wake you, or were you up?"

"I've been up."

He picked her up, lay down in her spot, and laid her on his chest. "We hurt you, didn't we?"

"I know what I saw. I never said I believed it myself, but it's what I saw."

"Well, no matter what, he hasn't been back and he won't be. It's already been too long, if he's going to attack, he plans on doing so when we least suspect it. Just stay on your toes and you'll be alright." The realization of what he just said dawned on him when Maggie's expression turned from misery to fear. "Uh, I…mean he won't attack when we are here with you."

"But what if you're not?"She looked at him, "What will I do if he gets me?"

He smiled sadly. "You will never be alone, Maggie. Not while I'm around."

"But if you have to go, like if the dummies who work for you do something really bad-"

"I'll bring you with me. Or have," he started laughing, "your aunt and uncle take care of you."

Maggie grinned. "And my cousin."

"Or your father can bring you with him."

Her smile faded. "I still think they wuh my real family. I love you, but you and Bob tried to kill us. Can we go slowly? Get to know each other befoah call each other father and daughter?"

"Once again, it was Bob who tried to kill you all! I had nothing to do with you. I tried to kill my brother, your brother, and your sister. And considered killing your father several times before our families were sworn enemies. And your mother the night we were announced sworn enemies.* But I agree. We are not father and daughter until we have a bond." (Life)

"W-what?"

"Our families had a history before Sideshow Bob and Bart." He drew sideshow out, loathing the word. "Anyway, it's not important. We should probably get to sleep, it's quite late," He started to sit up.

"Wait! Please don't go."

Cecil laid back down. "What?"

"Can you stay in here with me? Please?"

"Why?"

"Cause."

"Cause why?"

"Cause I asked so."

He smiled. "Well . . . I have another day off tomorrow. If you wish." He turned off the light.


6:00 AM

Frank Grimes had indeed been dead. But no more! This blessing had allowed him to take revenge against his enemies and make a destiny come true. The only curse was he couldn't go out in public without people recognizing his features, and then everything would be ruined. But from what the damned Master had said, he was to terrorize Margret Simpson.

The first plan had back-fired, he didn't know that the criminal would be there to save her. If he could've done it, and if Master hadn't yelled at him not to, he would most definatly have struck the child in the wrist to bleed slowly to death.

Now going over it, Grimes figured he would never have thought about killing a baby when he was alive, no matter what, but Master had made it clear what was to happen.

And, ever since he had come back to this hell-hole, all that Grimes had wanted to do was kill. To take a man in the power plant and cut his face off. To take the hooker he had created Jr. with and do it again. But his options were limited. It was either do this job for the bastard that brought him back, or go to hell. Master could easily replace him with another lowlife from the grave.

But it was unfair. He had to do this job for that twisted son of a—no. Master had said he could hear his thoughts. But while he was complaining, he couldn't call Master by his real name—only master. It got annoying after a few weeks. Hell, it was annoying being alive again; he liked heaven. He wanted to go back; earth was no place for him anymore. Grimes hadn't been too religious when he was alive (what his childhood was like wasn't exactly what he thanked anyone for), but he believed the dead weren't supposed to be back on earth again.

Especially for this purpose.

It was now or never. Time to kill this family that kid had made for herself. But not in daylight. Everybody could see him, and the plan would be screwed.

Have to do this at night.

He creeped back into the shadows, waiting in the bush in the back. Then, when nobody was looking, Frank Grimes sprinted across the street into another back yard. He checked to make sure nobody was looking, and slipped inside.

Home sweet home.


Alright, alright, Grimes did it. But now there's a new mystery: who's the master?

And for mr. sandwitch: if you have read the other chapters, you can tell Maggie didn't do it. Especially from this chapter, if you're reading it. I'm not trying to be mean, but I wouldn't put that big a twist on a story unless it was a Treehouse of Horror. Technically, this is just a Halloween thriller, not a THOH.

I don't know, I think this is too long to be one.