sunny-an-swipe

 Chain mail He was at his computer; it was pitch black with only the moon streaming through his window. Looking out of the window he would have seen the tree swaying uneasily in the wind taping on it like old bony fingers reaching out for him. But that was the least of his problems. The real problem was the e-mail that he had just opened, he had been steering at the computer for five minutes now and he had started to cry and his nose was bleeding. And the tears however were not normal tears, but that of blood. His mother was walking up the stairs to see how he was doing, tuck him in, and turn out his lights. There was no sound coming from h