You were drowned just before your wedding, soaking, wet clothes that stayed with you even in the after life. You roamed about the body of water, hoping that one day you'll be free from this area. A nice foggy night rolled in, followed by a man. Looked fancy enough, maybe he could help - wouldn't hurt to ask, (literally). Though when you approached he seemed startled as fuck. Reaching towards his gun at the sight of you.

"¡¿Qué demonios eres?!" He spoke, expecting you to answer normally.