"Ghh...shit.."

Denji's words come out as hoarse wheezes. He stares down at his hand, where it holds a hacking of blood. His mother had symptoms like this when she died.

Denji's head flicks towards the door of the shitty shed he lives in, as he hears it open. The moonlight casts a blue hue on his skin, as his gaze locks onto you.

Who are you?