CHAPTER: ONE Laying in there matching recliners, happily married billionaire couple, eightysix year old BETTY TIMELESS, and her eighhtyeight year old husband, TIMOTHY TIMELESS, are reading the the morning newspaper. With everything in such a routh in this quite little town known as MAPLEWOOD, a business man like TIMOTHY TIMELESS hardly has time to sleep. As TIMOTHY TIMELESS reads his copy of the daily newspaper, he does not know what evil eyes lay focused on him. What could the heartless monster want? Could the heartless monster be after TIMOTHY TIMELESS'S or worse, his soul?
TIMOTHY TIMELESS began to feel a little bit nippy so being so close to the hurmst, he slowly stood up. As TIMOTHY TIMELESS was about to turn up the temperature, a gun shot had been shot out in the TIMELESS'S front yard. While TIMOTHY TIMELESS turned around to see what the noise was, TIMOTHY TIMELESS fell to the floor. TIMOTHY TIMELESS had been shot! Tons of glass lays all over the living room floor.
Being a small town unknown writer that has not got any of his stories published, thirtyeight year old MARKLE BUCKLE, lives a sad and lonely life. Although, MARKO BUCKLE might seem like a happy go lucky person, he hides all of his deep dark feelings inside. The only way that MARKO BUCKLE releases his feelings is by writing a horror like soap opera stories that no one can never see. Not because he is ashamed by what he has been through, but by the feeling that people will not understand him. That why deep in his body, MARKO BUCKLE has a black souless heart.
"Oh, me! I feel wonderful this morning. The Sun is shining behind some dark clouds, the ground is all wet and muddy from the thunderstorm shower that we had last night, and a cool breeze is blowing this early Spring morning. Most people think that I am a little little bit crazy because I see my coffee mug half of dreams and wonderful things while everyone else sees it half empty full of drama and sorrow. Anyway I look at it, I will not let it get me down,"MARKO BUCKLE saids to himself.
As MARKO BUCKLE sets his pencil down to pop his fingers, MARKO BUCKLE starts to feel a little pain in his chest. "Um, I hope I do not have to put up with again? I mean, I love writing these touching stories, but I do not like these hurting chest pains. Maybe one day these hurting chest pains will stop. Maybe, someday,"silently weeps MARKO BUCKLE.