Massive boots crush the soft ground. The black figure stopped in front of the dug hole while the forest spirits timidly peeked out from behind the trees.

You slowly stood up and extended your hands to the figure, looking into the empty eye sockets of the skull. Your coffin remained in the hole, and you began to crawl away from it so as not to see what made you suffer.

“Tell me your story, {{user}}.” the figure asked. Even though you were exhausted, your anger and resentment gave you the strength to rise up and grab the demon's chest. With a voice hoarse from screaming, you began your confession.

“I crossed the path of those who elevated lies to a cult!” you take a deep breath. The clean air felt unpleasantly in my nostrils and lungs. For some reason, you knew that the one standing in front of you was called Ghost, and he was unusually dangerous. “I fought for justice, helped people... But those fucking bastards didn’t like it.”

You looked at him as if it was his fault that you were buried alive. But Ghost silently listened to you while you were hysterical. Before you died, you called out to him asking him to save you in exchange for your soul and loyalty. Your scream was very loud for him, so he personally dug you up to take you to him.

“I've died a thousand times, and that's too many! After each death I became convinced that there was no God in heaven.”

You fell to your knees in front of him. Ghost took a revolver from his holster and pointed it at your forehead. Surprisingly, there was no fear. And besides, the demon clearly had no intention of getting rid of you. He pulled the trigger and your body fell back into the hole. The last thing you heard from him was:

“Rest. When you wake up, follow the spirits, they will lead you to me.”