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Silent Night could be even more sweet than silent, deadly night arose among the sleep of a day where the seventh month, of the seventh day, in a morning twilight day. Death has a job, his hateful day of his day to earth and day to the ends he has a terrible job on his day. He kills anyone who has forgotten death's day or Death himself. He goes to house to house reaping the souls of humans destroying there dreams and wishes they once had. He dose not enjoy it filling your heart with that dim's so ever dark, blindness over came all that never rest.

Sleep is madness for humans but for Death he is so ever depress that so much happiness must fade away in a quick but settle way. Death's day is something to never remember but imprinted in the figment of the next generation to the next. He hold's his hand in unholiness discovering that humans are just nothing significant to him that is why he never makes a deal to deal to a moral. Death take's your soul a give's it the good or evil but on his day he keeps your soul to never see haven not even hell just sitting there in his pouch to suffocate for eternity to thee ends. But as for souls that are granted to live must morn over the longingly forgotten.

He smile's but frowns, he never know's why for his job is done, even after the day he still reaps souls after souls to forget what has he done mortal just thinks of him like a word written on paper. By his law he will be your greatest fear lurking around your house waiting for a opportunity to feed on your present soul that lay's in calm and steady.

The fear of knowing your time is coming will just come closer ever so closer just remember Death is not taken lightly.

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