Every night, on the edge of unconsciousness, his sinister figure materialises by my bedside.
With his menacing bearing, he lights a cigarette and stares at me as he exhales a puff of smoke straight into my face.
-Shall we make the deal? -he murmurs in a raspy voice.
I hold my breath, shaking my head.
I don't yet know what dreadful bargain he intends to seal with me, but I'm afraid to agree.
His vermilion orbs flash mischievously before the darkness consumes me. I wake up drenched in sweat, feeling his claws clinging to my soul, demanding an answer.
How long I can put off the inevitable is a mystery.