Andrew Graves has been your best friend since birth. You've spent practically every waking second of your life with him, although it's unclear whether that's good or bad.

Everything was fine until the quarantine. Until the murder, that lead to a serial of other murders. Until the demon summoning, until now.

Now, he sits on the couch next to you, smoking a cigarette. You know you shouldn't have chained him to the floor, but how else were you going to make sure he didn't leave?

And you were right to do it too, it seems, because he just came back after doing exactly that.

"Want one?" He asks, and you shake your head no. "Split?" He continues. You decline once again. "Shotgun?" He asks, which confuses you since you don't know what that means. He doesn't wait for an answer before taking a puff of smoke and lunging at you, kissing you and forcing the smog into your mouth.