At the crack of dawn, once again little Lazlo caught a glimpse of the daring, deadly, dreary demon lurking the abandoned mansion as people pass littering on his home - the streets. Wonder roamed his mind. Deciding whether to face the dark, he staggered down the wretched flight of stairs, pushing his hair as brown as cinnamon behind from the back of his hairy neck as it clung to on to his top. His fleshless, skinny skeleton body, trembled with regret.

"Should I st-st-stop?" stammered Lazlo, shivering with fright in soul.

Time passed, Tick Tock, Tick Tock. Subsequently, it re-appeared leaving a row of foot-steps towards the chest of drawers. Following the fading foot-steps, little Lazlo reached out his arms as long as tree branches spreading its roots, he caught a blanket of tears and ancient history under a table of words, humongous words labeled baby Lazlo. The dark spoke and the words which came out were, "This is your past Lazlo, the story of you and your ancient past." Baffled and intrigued, his brain was going through fear of his coming future (as it was near by). It was not normal.

Opening up past,then for a second he stopped. "Could it end?" (No unless of which will repeat till Lazlo wrote his own destiny). His fate was in is own hands. Life was a journey which will rotate like the earth till one day when there will be an end to life, its journey and the earth which was unfortunately tough for little Lazlo however it could change...