El Pacto

I woke up with a start, having fallen asleep doing some reading in bed. He still couldn't believe what he had heard: Charles, I'm dead!

It was just a few words that rang clear and terrifying as thunder. It was a deep and distant voice but of unmistakable origin. It was the voice of Baron Bradewick. Scared I looked at the clock. It was several minutes to 9. I got up quickly, I still had 3 hours to live...

Impressive, isn't it? This happens to me because I surround myself with bad companies. I wouldn't be in this mess if I hadn't been so fond of the occult, if I hadn't let myself be carried away by the damn Baron's strong personality and vast knowledge of the occult, if I hadn't simply thought to satisfy the wishes of a dying when I signed that damn pact, that voluntary surrender of my body. In three hours he will come for me, but I am willing to stop him.