THE HEART

Hello once again, Kiddies.  I have FEAR, a real ROTTING-REMEDY for you all.  I hope you'll enjoy this one I call...
It is the evening of November 21, 1933, up, here in the countryside of New Hampshire.  I am sitting in my cottage by my warm-fire, smoking a pipe here.  The grandfather-clock reads: "12:10 a.m." and the fireplace is growing dim.  My name is Alexander Princeton, I am a young man and I have a secret.  I have murdered my Wife!  I shot her with my shotgun.  As I sit here talking to my wall, no one can here me.  No one at all. Yes, she would not give me my liquor, so I did her in.  By now, there is that scratching and scraping coming from underneath the floor.  As I take a sip of a bottle of Jim Beam Whiskey, I can here the sound getting louder.  A cracking of the floor is happening and I am afraid.  Oh, please go back to your grave, Annie!!!.  The pale-white hand of my wife is jutting up, out of the floor.  Now she is crawling out of her grave, covered in dirt, in her wedding gown.  Her long, black hair is coated with worms and her eyes are missing, with red-slime caked on her rotting-face and around her decaying-eye sockets.  Her zombie is approaching me!! "Annie keep away!!!" I am telling her. She's reaching into my chest and ripping my heart out within the shadows, as the fire goes out!!! 
How romantic!  The zombie of Annie just STOLE ALEXANDER'S HEART hee-hee!  Well, that's what he gets for TAKING A SHOT AT IT!  He shouldn't have made her FLOOR IT!!! Heh-Heh-Heh-Heh!