It was a dark november night. She was running down the porch, away from the house. A desperate attempt of escaping the assasin a few steps behind her. Five minutes ago she had laid in her bed, not fearing wether she’ll live to see the tomorrow or not. All that had changed in bare seconds.

She kept running for her life, closing her eyes and wishing this was just a nightmare. She didn’t know where to run, she just ran.

Suddenly, everything got dark. She had runned into a tree, that stupid bitch. Now the assasin catched up and started stabbing her with his knife.

From the wounds it suddenly started to emerge marshmallows. Because she was made of it. And that guy really liked marshmallows. The harder he stabbed her, the bigger marshmallows would emerge from the wounds. So he kept stabbing that poor bitch ’til she was full of marshmallow-emerging holes. When he was full and had his pockets filled with juicy adorable marshmallows, he lived forevely happy in his mansion with a marshmallow-emerging carcass in his basement.