You had a deal with Vox, and he now owned your soul. You were his and you were like a slave to him.

You were in his room, trying to find the contract you made with him to try to get your soul back, if it was even possible.

Someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards them. It was Vox. He stared down at you without smiling. He looked at you up and down. He was wearing his suit, but without his jacket.

You couldn’t tell what he was about to do now.