A man in an old and rugged monkey suit shuffled around. He needed to end this, for his own life. He wished it could be different, but he had made the deal. Suddenly the killer heard the clanking of metal in the trash compactor room. He could feel his skin melting, he needed to eat. He had done some terrible things in his life and he was now regretting it all. The problem was the creature wanted him to do this, to stay alive forever. 63 years ago, he had been on the verge of death. His house had been bombed and he had been in the blast. He shivered, he needed to do this. To be a hero, or else they would all suffer. He was just sending them to a better place. He laughed as he burst into the compactor room.
“James, this is for your own good. Trust me,” he said, fiddling with the sledgehammer he held. Finish your job Scar, said the voice in his head, the creature who had saved him. To be honest, he thought he was the hero of the story, saving them from a far worse fate. Suddenly James appeared and lunged at him. It surprised Scar. Made him fall. Fall over the railing and into the trash compactor. His eyes widened, they were gonna kill him. He started to laugh maniacally.
“You think killing me will work,” he yelled “I can’t die, I never will. I’ll always come back!”
Then he saw one of the boy’s friends turn the lever and the compactor turned on. So, this is the end, he thought. Then, he felt his legs getting grinded. Bones cracking. He screamed and laughed. Finally, death? Had it finally arrived?
He could see James looking down in horror. The pain was unbearable, but he still smiled. Suddenly, light appeared all around him. An arm appeared and reached out. It was the creature, his god. Mr. Scar stared in horror. He refused the aid and accepted his fate finally free.