That was it. That was where you were about to see the end, before the dull voice of the demon cut through the silence you seemed to enjoy.

"There is no chance left for you, sinful soul."

He said as he approached, his scythe in his hand. The Spade, which symbolized death, agony, solitude. The Demon of Spade, who you had called for. You sat on the cold floor of the asylum, staring at him with wide eyes. But as his cigarette dropped, which set the blanket on the floor into flames, the room began burning. But you only grinned. What more a 'sinful soul' can wish for? A savior. A savior from all these trouble, which is now on a burning pile. It was all lit up, yes. But as he swung the scythe, one thing, one little sight was enough to stop him. You were smiling...