Bob Newheart had a good life; just a few short days ago he was promoted to Marketing VP, included in the deal was a nice new car, a company parking spot and a corner office with a view, not to mention two private assistants, Marget and Macey.

Bob Newheart had a large house just outside the city, you know the kind with a white picket fence, trees as far as the eye could see, and the small town was the kind that all got together for a barbecue every Memorial Day weekend.

Bob Newheart had a wife, whom he loved with all his heart, and twin sons, born on Independence Day some 10 years ago. Both young boys doing great in school, little league would only be a few months away.

Yes, Bob Newheart had it all. Bob Newheart wasn't a real superstitious man, he didn't believe in horoscopes, nor 'Miss Cleo', but he never would step under a ladder or break a mirror, more out of habit than fear. Bob Newheart wasn't that open minded about strange things, only stories were told to him, and what he had heard on the 'box' before bed. Zombies? Ghosts? The Undead? No, Bob Newheart didn't believe in them.

Bob Newheart was wrong.

The sun went dead, Bob Newheart didn't know what to think. Hours passed, Bob Newheart panicked, but stayed in his corner office, because in his corner office, he was safe from the outside world.

Once again, Bob Newheart was wrong.

A shadow engulfed the outside of his office building, the walls bled, as the floor boiled. That's when Bob Newheart saw his Father, the same man that beat him and his mother for most of his adolences, the same man that Bob Newheart put two bullets into the chest of. The bullet holes were still in Bob Newheart's father's chest, blood still poured from the wounds. This was strange. Seeing how Bob Newheart's father was placed six feet under the ground some 25 years ago.

This sent Bob Newheart over the edge. From his desk, Bob Newheart pulled out a .45, he than shot his dead father in the head, blowing away what was left of it.

Bob Newheart then placed the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger again.

Bob Newheart was dead.

Bob Newheart had a good life.