Leather, Bondage and Metal. Hanging, singing and slapping the air with powerful velocity. The slight wind echoes through out the barren corridors of the ghost town. Only one creature slides through the shadows, it flickers out and in of the houses . . . looking, feeling.

Horrific scenes happily fill the mind of the Shinigami, severed body parts lay in front of the houses on display and bones of children, that were long gone before the death, protrude from the ground as if some one was making a garden of Eden.

Slowly slithering over the grotesque scene that welcomes him in all his glory. He knows their never going home. Whispering secrets of the dead, horrid gossip and unwelcoming thoughts of the loved ones. The screams, the cries, and pleads, but understanding does not come with death. No dear heart. In only a dream may be like this but here, now.

One flaw, that rings completely  encompassing on all of the corpses. All afraid to walk this world, walk without a partner, a loved one. All afraid to walk this reality alone. A smile of sick disproportion spreads out on the Shinigami's face, his face pulled tight on his skull, then a sound, an abhorrent din resounded from the Shinigami's mouth. The ghastly howl that was an excuse for a laugh. With the  morose joke, dying of laughter.

Never going home.