It was a strange day, well it felt like it. Frank had just woken up and was just starting his day. He walked down the stairs in his small two floors terrist house, he stood still being stared at by a man in a black balaclava holding a bag full of his treasured belongings.                                                                                                                         “What are you doing you punk” Exclaimed Frank while he was edging towards a blunt silver butter knife layed on the side. The man was only about 5ft9″, but frank on the other hand was a large-ish fellow 6ft9″.

The man dropped the bag and ran, but before he could get away Frank chased after him like a bullet.             There is just one thing you should know about Frank, well, I dont know how to say this but, he’s a bit of a phsyco, and when I say a bit of a phsyco I meen a real phsyco!

Frank still had the knife in his hand, as he drew closer to the man he equipped the knife in a odd way, but that will soon make sense. Frank dived at his first chance to get him and wrestled him to the ground, then the knife ’slipped’ into the mans kneck, unfortunate uh? well, that wasn’t the last of it.

Frank had returned home, didn’t tell anyone about it, but instead chucked the mans corpse into a cupboard and left it there. He had a bit of a, well ‘rough path’ with the law, firstly the time that he had threw a stone at a disabled man, but I wont talk to much about that, and the other time when he assaulted a night club owner for refusing to give him the contract to the club, lets say Frank’s a kind of, ‘dodgy’ man.