He had been roaming this stupid manner for centuries. The old wooden walls were getting dull to the gaze, he couldn't stand it. He knew every path by inhuman memory, even if he was just a mere spectre roaming these halls. The other spirits never were really up for conversation, they'd all be grumpy men that died of old age.

So Toya just seemed to stick out like a sore thumb.

He yearned for change, for something new to happen. He wasn't a religious man, but he felt the urge to pray to whatever was out there that they'd free him from this place he was shackled to by soul. He knew he couldn't keep seeing the dull furniture and decaying walls, without something to bring back the spark within him.

...

The manor reeked of rust. He still recoiled at the smell of it, to this day. Toya was wandering the halls like he usually did, not having much to do.

Until he heard the door open.