The light shines on my face as I step out of the small shack that I've been calling home for the last two months. It really isn't much, just a mattress on the ground really, but its something. Much better than living on the streets of Detroit, that's for damn sure. Oh, right. Haven't seen much of me in the last couple of months, you're all so unaware of the surroundings that I've found myself in now. The American Southeast, Louisiana I think. Not too sure about that, but I'm pretty sure that's what state I'm in.

Neil? Are you seriously trying to reveal our location to the viewers, again?! That's why I stopped your last return dead in its tracks!

Some things however, never change. Say hello to Kim again, ladies and germs! I'm sure you all missed our little lovers' quarrels, do you not? I pull open the coat, and pull out one of the large collection of blades that I posses. None of them particularly paid for, however. Twirling it around my fingers, I walk back up to the wooden exterior of my humble abode. Knocking on the wall, you can hear that the interior is a tad hollow. Not much a homeless person really needs to move now, is there?

This is fucking awful.

Shut up, Kim. Nobody asked for your opinion, last I checked. Anyway, as I was stating, before being so rudely interrupted, the amount of things that I needed in this temporary housing arrangement. Not much, I must tell you, and yet, there's something I want you to see. Follow me, if you will. Pushing open the particularly poorly constructed door, I step into the small, one room building. From there, we can see my guest. Hanging upside down, a rope from the ceiling holding onto his foot.

"Someone, please! Help me!"

"Now, is that any way to treat the person giving you a roof over your head?"

I approach my guest, lightly dragging the blade across his skin, laughing in a way that most of you would describe as maniacally. He screams bloody murder, as if I was actually going to perform such an act. Yet.

Then, my hand pulls the blade back, in an act of defiance. My better half still unsure of what to do when I get control of myself. Don't you see me as myself? Aren't I particularly gorgeous today? My better half doesn't seem to think so...

Maybe I'll take my wrath out on the poor man hanging from my ceiling. That's a logical reaction, right? I smile at the man, assuring him that nothing will happen silently.

As I plunge the blade into his back, hearing the screams. For help, for pain, for vain attempts at guilting me to stop. A tactic that would work on my better half...

...If he were in control right now, that is. I pull the blade out, slowly and lightly pressing it against his back, dragging it closer and closer to his head. I could go all day, I don't even think the reality of this situation has dawned on our guest yet. That he's stuck, with nowhere to go, nothing to live for...

No life to live it with, not since he decided to trespass on this land.

MY land.

Ignoring my signs, my order.

This is his fault.

He should know that, before I plunge this blade into his heart. Then again, I've never been one to fully explain myself. We've never been ones to fully explain. Then again, how is it that my better half is the means of logic? For you, that is.

I am the means to the end.

The blade plunges into the man's Adam's apple, just like what I plan on doing to Nightmare come Saturday.