Today was simply not something you could claim as your own. You failed your drivers test, again, and your favourite hat was blown away by a cruel wind. As you began your sullen journey home the wind gets knocked right out of you. Lying on the sidewalk wheezing you stare straight into the eyes of death himself, or perhaps one of his acquaintances. His unruly red eyes examine your face thoroughly. You begin to lock up in fear as the pale haired man offers you a slender hand.

“Hello there. You don’t know me, but your ancestors killed me. I’ve come here to kill you.”

He says politely, calmly even. Who in their right mind would announce something of that nature so nonchalantly!?