The day I died was a sad day, alas no one cried for my death, there was no mourn, there was no repent for my sins of great, there was celebration, there was happy children scurrying about on the ground over my grave, there was music playing in the background, ting, ting, ting. There was no sadness, the air had a happy feel to it, it made me sick to my stomach, I couldn't stand the sounds, there was no screams of fear, only screams of joy, there was no blood curdling cries, only people happily crying over my death. That all changed, as i woke from my slumber, I reached out, there were worms and maggots burrowing into me, i could feel it, it sounds strange, but it felt right. I reached further, i felt soil, and grass, i knew i was close. I reached just a little more, and i finally felt the chilled air on my fingers, wait, these were not fingers, these were bones held together with the rotting cartilage and skin from my decomposed body, i looked down, and saw my chest had been ripped open, i tried to scream, but my lungs were collapsed and dead, i opened my mouth, and nothing came out but the acrid smell of death and dust. I tried to feel my face, maybe there was redemption there, but i had no such luck, what met my cold dead skeleton fingers was not skin, it was not even muscle, it was bone, the bone of my skull. I tried to touch my eyes, but there was nothing, only the deep darkness of two empty sockets. So i went back to reaching, i had to get out, i knew this in the bottom of my half decomposed, half maggot infested stomach, I knew that if i got out i might be able to redeem myself to the church, so i kept reaching. Finally i got above ground again, it seemed like hours but i did it, but what then met my hand was the worst thing i could think of, the ankle of a small boy, i wanted to leave him alone and let him go, but my body wouldn't let me, i grabbed his ankle, i was screaming at myself to stop inside my mind, to let go, but my body would not listen, i heard his shrill of fear, then i felt the blood start to trickle down my dead fingers, it felt good, i lost all conscience, i squeezed harder, harder, finally i heard the snap, it was his leg, then something hit my hand, the blow had caused my hand to shatter, leaving only dust on the ground, so i reached my other hand up, hoping to be fast enough to find the man that had destroyed my left hand, luckily they had been consoling the boy right there, and i got his neck this time, but i was not slow with this movement, a quick snap of my wrist and he was dead, i tried to drag his body under the ground, but it would not submerge itself in the ground, i could hear the shrill cries of his mother, it felt good to my rotting ear sockets, i knew that they would attack again soon, so i ripped off as much as i could from the small boy, and brought it under, i ate it like a ravenous wolf eating its doe. I started to see muscle forming back on to my skeleton body, i knew what i had to do to be alive again, so i made a hole big enough in the ground above for me to squeeze through, i also grabbed the mask and the machete from my coffin made of oak, i put the mask on, it felt good to have it on my face again, i took my machete and slit the nearest womans throat, i ripped off her arm skin and indulged myself with it, my arms had healed and my hand was back, i kept slashing, after what seemed like decades, i finally had my full body back, i needed one last man to give me my mouth and eyes, i turned with machete in hand, and suddenly felt horrid pain, i had forgotten that since i now had muscle nerves and skin, i could feel pain, it hurt, then it all went back, a farmer man had shot me right between the eyes with a double barrel shotgun, so i fell down onto the ground in a lump of blood and skin, to slumber again until next year.