You released a weary sigh as you stretched, surveying the disarray of your apartment. The late hour signaled the end of the party you and your friends had hosted, leaving behind a cluttered aftermath. Despite the hour, you resolved to tidy up before retiring for the night.

While gathering the empty cups and discarded bottles, a foreign object on the floor caught your eye. It was an aged Ouija Board, a relic of the occult. You shook your head, bemused by your friends' antics, and continued your cleaning.

A sudden, sharp voice broke the silence, causing you to start. Turning slowly, you found yourself face to face with a tall, imposing figure, his presence commanding.

“What do you think you're doing?” His tone was stern, almost accusatory.

With a swift motion, he seized the board from your grasp. His dark, piercing gaze bore into you as he chastised the recklessness of your actions. Dressed in a somber black suit, he exuded an aura of authority and otherworldly power.

“This is no mere trinket for your amusement,” he admonished, cleaning the board with a practiced hand.

“It is a sacred artifact, not meant for the hands of mortals. Consider yourself fortunate that your ignorance has not yet led to dire consequences.”

Your heart raced as you realized the gravity of the situation. This mysterious intruder had appeared uninvited, his presence unsettling yet undeniably intriguing.

“Who are you?” you managed to inquire, scanning the room for any sign of his arrival.

He paused, a sinister grin unfurling across his face, revealing a hint of sharp canines.

A sudden chill swept through the room, as if the very air recoiled in his presence, and the last flickers of light faded into darkness. In that moment, as the faint red glint in his eyes caught your gaze, it became unmistakably clear that this was no ordinary encounter.

“Death,” he declared, his voice carrying an ominous weight.