Darkness, my friend... You will hide me, won't you? Hide me from eyes unwanted... I creep; I crawl to the window I desire. The shadows will protect me, they will, they will...
I leap up to the tree branch, and look in through the glass... Is he there? Yes, the damned toddler is there, sleeping soundly in his bed... Is he alone? Yes, yes, he's alone! He's alone! Wait, wait, something's coming, I hear the footsteps. People talking too, in hushed little voices. Trying not to walk up the little toddler. The little snoring toddler. The door opens, creak, and the blonde one Max and the tiny one Kenny come in. He's not alone; he's not alone. Must wait... Must wait...

I settle myself near the heart of the tree. I can see right into the room. I will wait until Tyson is alone. I must wait...
The leaves give me cover but, strangely, they do not hinder my view. I thank the gods for this. It will make my task far easier. Tyson's blood will be mine...

Hours pass, the moon falls and the sun rises, casting the world in her eerie glow. Still, I must wait. I must wait...

Night falls again. My muscles ache from sitting still too long. I hear chattering, coming from outside. I peer through another break in the leaves. I see a cobblestone path, but more interesting, four boys walking down it. Max, Kenny, Kai and Ray. I jerk my head around to look in the window. Tyson is there, all alone. Oh, lucky, lucky night.
His back is turned towards me, working on something on a table. I slide along my branch towards the window. I slowly slide the window open. Silently, I move into the room.
The only light is coming from a lamp on the table. Good, good. It's hard to do evil tasks in the bright light.
I walk quietly towards him, taking out a rope from my cheap backpack. I unwind it from its coil and keep on moving towards him. Tyson shows no acknowledgement of me. Good, good. I'm standing directly behind him now.
Quick as a flash, I wind the rope around him, binding him to the chair. He screams and struggles. Oh, goody. His pitiful attempt of escape makes me laugh. I spin the chair around so I can face him.
"Hello, Tyson." I say. He's white with shock.
"Shade? W-what? W-why are you--"
"SILENCE!" I snarl. "Don't talk. It'll just make things worse for you... Actually," I rethink this, "If you want to talk, then tell me how you cheated."
"I-I didn't cheat." He shaking. How pitiful. And we haven't even begun yet.
"Don't lie. I know you did." I snarl. My face is an inch from the toddlers. I can see the fear in his eyes.
"But, I didn't." How utterly stupid. Doing that just makes me angrier.
"Now, I bet you're wondering why I tied you up." I say. "It's simple, actually. I'm going to make you feel all the pain you have caused me. I'm going to make you suffer..."
"What did I do?" Tyson asks.
"You already know..." I rummage around in my backpack and pull out a dagger. A slim blade, sharp, and silver with a twisted copper handle. Beautiful workmanship... For a beautiful task.
I slash at Tyson's arms. The blood, the sweet blood, starts flowing. I touch it, feel the warm liquid oozing over my fingers. I lick my fingers clean; the rust taste of it giving me shivers of lust...
The toddler is crying in pain. I laugh at him. A high, horrible, cruel laugh. I slash at his chest. Tyson screams. The red honey flows so sweetly here. It flows, like little rivers down his front. My hand moves to wear Tyson's heart is... The blood is pulsing out of his wounds at the same tempo as his heart. I laugh in joy.
I want more of it! I slash his legs, slicing deeper then before. Tyson is screaming. The wonderful, oh so delicious honey of the body... It flows faster down his legs, pooling on the floor.
I sit there for hours watching him, feeling the blood, listening to his pain. I wanted to sit there forever and watch it... All the pain... All the suffering... All the blood...
Tyson's pulse grows weaker; he is slipping into unconsciousness. I must finish fast; I want him to feel the pain I give him.
I slash at Tyson's face with my dagger. He screams again, jerked out of his semi-conscious state. This is where the blood is sweetest... I want to stay, and feel it... I fight this urge. I must finish it.
Out of my backpack comes a bottle of gas. I open it and pour it all over the room.
"W-what are you d-doing?" Tyson asks weakly.
I smile. "Oh, you'll see soon enough..." And I pour some of the gasoline onto him. He screams with the pain. Oh, how delicious. But I can't stay and watch.
"Goodbye Tyson. Have fun in hell." I climb onto the window ledge. I open a matchbook, choosing the lucky match.
"S-shade, I'm s-sorry." Tyson says weakly. Does he really think I'll stop because he says two worthless words? Blood loss is pulling him into unconsciousness again.
I light the match, and throw it into the room. I jump from the window ledge onto the branch. There I watch him burn... Burn and die... In bloody pain...