The boy was walking home, but that night the alleys reeked of death. Shadows slithered along the walls like snakes, and the wind carried whispers no human could understand.
From a narrow alley, a chilling voice echoed:
"You… finally arrived…"
Inside, a figure cloaked in black awaited him. Its face was hidden beneath shadows, yet the stench of dried blood clung to its very presence. The figure extended something forward: an old, cracked leather book, its cover stained with crimson blotches.
With a voice heavy as iron, it spoke:
"This… is either your salvation or your ruin. The choice is not yours—your fate has already been written."