Cthulu: I look up At the Danm Jailers of my tomb Ropes and enchantments bind me to this hell. however i notice a crack a crack in the defence. i can freed i rub at the signals with my psychokinesis and destroy the last remaining runes that entrapped me. now where was that faggot that visted me earlier. the thin man is gonna be the dead man THE SLEnder man is gonna die. 

Death: i sit watching a epitomy of emptyness known as the quiet its voice omnipresent and obsolete to all else