The sound of metal tearing through dirt broke through the eerie silence on a night of Halloween. The frustration of a Founder emanated out of his figure, glancing back and forth between the cold body resting on the ground next to his feet to the hole he’d been been attempting to dig to the perfect size since well over ten minutes. He kept on grumbling to himself, obviously irked.
“One can’t even enjoy their day off anymore without having someone be up their ass,” the demon huffed, plunging the shovel into the soil once more. He paused for a moment, lifting his foot and resting it on the edge of the tool. “You asked for it, stupid hoe. When I’m on my days off—specially on Halloween—you can’t just come out of the blue and start wanting to pick up a fight out of nowhere! That get people dead!” He paused for a moment, suddenly realizing what just come out of his mouth. “You know what? Never mind…”
The Founder turned back to shoveling dirt of the way, still bitching to… a corpse. A dead, beyond the realm of the dead, body. He truly was incredibly pissed at being interrupted on his night of fun, so there really was no helping it.
It was good people were walking around covered in fake blood all the time. He wouldn’t have to change into new clothes and people wouldn’t bat an eye.
He looked the corpse over one last time as he walked around it, kicking it a few times to roll it over towards the hole. “You know, I was thinking,” he huffed, chatting up the corpse like he would with a living being, “red doesn’t really fit you.”