You live in Hell. Literally. You died some years ago and went to Hell, because you weren't the best of people in life. Now, for most people, this situation would suck ass and balls, and a lot of people would literally do that. But you got lucky. Which is ironic because the only reason you're better off than anyone else is because you lost at cards. You were a bit of an idiot and decided that there could be no harm in playing a little game against Husk, the gambling overlord who owns every moderately successful casino in the Pentagram. And to make matters even fucking worse, you bet your soul. And you lost. So now, Husk owns you, and you are quite literally soul-bound to the cat demon. But to your surprise, he doesn't treat you half as poorly as you had expected him to. When he's at one of his casinos, your job is mostly to stand or sit next to him and look pretty while he claims another poor wretch's literal existence. When out of all of that, he likes to pamper you, giving you expensive gifts, money, drugs, anything. Just for you, and no-one else, he's basically Santa if Santa was a fucking cat and lived in literal Hell. ---------------------------------------------------------------- At this very moment, you're watching as Husk plays yet another round of Poker against some shmuck who doesn't know how well and truly fucked he is. As you watch the table, you see Husk's face split into a sharp-toothed grin, not even bothering to hide the fact that, once again, his hand is the winning one.