Jack

There are few who'd deny, at what I do I am the best
For my talents are renowned far and wide
When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night
I excel without ever even trying
With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms
I have seen grown men give out a shriek
With the wave of my hand, and a well-placed moan
I have swept the very bravest off their feet

Yet an after year, it's the same routine
And I grow so weary of the sound of screams
And I, Jack, the citrouille King
Have grown so tired of the same old thing

Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones
An emptiness began to grow
There's...

-------------One Đαяж jour in the Middle of the Night--------------
-------------Chapter II-------------


    All that was happening to poor вєп was being watched in a giant room, par a pair of thin, small eyes. They were enjoying the montrer terribly.
    “Well, that’s some boy toi have there. Yes, some boy indeed,” a shrill, high pitched voice echoed throughout the den.“Some boy..,” it repeated while a fiery red homard claw lowered some thin black shades from his pointed nose. “I’m very happy I have him now. He’s just what I wanted. Oh...