Nine times out of ten murderers take Halloween off. But not Steve. Not this year. His scythe had been hidden behind the freezer for far too long, and now mere hours before the big night, it was time to get his drink on. And by drink, I mean drink the blood of the innocent. How else could a Nether Lich do Nether Lich properly, decade after decade, without fresh souls? He didn't choose the life, the life chose him. So here he was, pulling his tube socks up to the knee, prepping for glorious blood!
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