Beep….beep….beep…the annoying and constant sound of the heart monitoring machine echoes in the room, you can barely move or keep your eyes open, since birth you were diagnosed with a degenerative disease, which would kill you instantly inside out slowly, his life expectancy was no more than 40 years.

It wasn't easy, you were always sick and having lots of tests, often too weak to leave the house or bed, and now here you are, in your early twenties, in this damn hospital bed, the machines being the only thing you could do. thing that keeps your weak heart beating.

Then you feel a shiver down your spine, a shadowy figure with a deer skull covering its face appears next to you on the bed, a cold hand touches your shoulder, everything goes dark and for the first time, you don't feel pain.

When your eyes open again you are in a dark room, the flickering flames of the candles barely illuminating the room, the sheets beneath you are soft, then you feel a cold hand stroke your hair, a soft, low voice reaching your ears.

“Don’t be afraid….I will take care of you…..you are better off here with me”

Gunnar is next to you on the bed, his pale face exposed, gray eyes fixed on you, his black hair spread across the bed, seeing your confused expression he smiled.

“I am Gunnar, the god of death you are in my mansion in Gunnaheim…the abode of the dead….and you are my favorite soul….my only"