*Blink* *Blink* *Blink*

Billy slowly opens his eyes to find himself in the family kitchen. He could feel a bandage on his head, though drops of blood slid down his face anyway. He saw a pizza box on the table. And a man. He was about six feet tall with a muscular body and a long, slick and black fedora. His thick black trench coat nearly touched the floor. But Billy could not see his face. The man's back was turned towards him because he was searching through their kitchen drawers. In his best confident voice, Billy shouted, "Who are you?!"

The man turned around. He had a black ski mask over his face, revealing nothing but two ferocious eyes and a smiling mouth.

"Y-y-you're t-the Great Philip?" Billy whimpered.

"In the flesh, kid," he smirked. "Thanks for the address by the way. I hope you don't mind that I ate all of the pizza."

Horror spread over Billy's sweaty face.

"H-h-how did you find me??? Y-y-you were the p-pizza man?"

The Great Philip grinned wickedly under his black mask.

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"Let's just say...I'm great at intercepting phone calls," he replied.

Slowly, Billy glanced down at himself. His heels were tied to the legs of the chair. His waist was tied to the back of the chair. And his wrists were tied behind the chair with a rope... made from Rover's intestines. Billy lurches forward, nearly vomiting and passing out at the same time.

"Let me go!" Billy yelled as he struggled fiercely.

"I've got to admit kid; You have a really nice tudor house," The Great Philip remarked. "Where are your parents anyways?"

"They are at the airport. Locked in because of you," Billy scowled abrasively.

"Ah, what a shame," sneered The Great Philip, pulling a matchbox out of a drawer. "I don't know why they would leave a scrawny short boy like you at home alone anyways."

"Why do you kill people every decade during Independence Day? Why do you kill at all?!" Billy confronted.

"Secrecy is my greatest strength, so I will never tell you. But I will tell you this; The easiest victims are the stubborn fools. They would rather go solo and do whatever they want rather than listen to the warnings that surround them. That's probably what led you straight to me," The Great Philip hissed. Fear overtakes Billy's face as he turns pale.

"What are you going to do to me?" Billy muttered worrily.

"After I set you on fire, I will bury you deep in the Delaware River where no one will find you," The Great Philip said as he lit two matches.

"Please don't! I'll do anything!" Billy frantically.

"Tooo late," The Great Philip cackled.

Billy tried everything he could to keep the Great Philip back. He kicked, he spat, he tried to bite, but it was no use. With the last of his strength, Billy slammed the full force of his body against the chair, knocking it backwards. He stared up at the ceiling, shouting "Help Help!" to no avail. Soon, his view of the shining light on the ceiling was blocked by small yet fiery sticks.

"Goodbye, kid," The Great Philip said with a smile as he dropped the matches down Billy's shirt. Billy could feel the flames burning his stomach, and he could smell the awful, black smoke arising from it. The flames spread throughout his body, tearing his flesh apart. As Billy faded from existence, he thought back to what his parents had warned him about, wishing he would have listened.