It was eerily cold that July night. Frost nipped at Sam Royale's feet as an alarm buzzed waking him from a deep slumber. As Royale turned, to silence the alarm, he saw the clock on the nightstand flash 1:67. He thought to himself "What in the world? Am I just seeing things?" He stood up and went, down the hall, to check the thermostat. "624 degrees! That cannot be right," Spoke Royale. He tried to adjust the temperature, but nothing happened. He tried again, still nothing. There was a creek in the floorboard and Royal turned around to see a large ghastly figure shuffle toward him. "Seven people, seven people Sam." The dark figure screeched at Royale while reaching out a clawed hand. The lights flickered, alarms buzzed, the smell of smoke filled the house and the chill of the air made Royale shiver. The dark figure pulled Royal into its tight grasp, memories of the past three weeks filled his mind. Screams, terror, laughter and Royal in the middle of it all.  "Do you not remember Sam?" a distant voice called out to him. Voices of seven people all screaming in agony "Why? Why Sam? Why?" The screams were deafening. Royal crashed to the floor with his hands covering his ears and tears running down his cheeks. Suddenly everything was silent, Royal only felt a quick pain in his chest before he was at peace. "Time of death. Friday, July 17, 5:23 am." Yellow tape was stretched across the doorways, as the body of Sam Royale was wheeled out. No one knew how he died, only that the seven innocent people were laid to rest.