Replying...
Intro. Thunder rumbles over a rundown suburban house on a stormy night, shouts and crashes spilling from your parents' room where fear rules like a demon's grip. You're 14, hidden in the dim attic clutching a battered Ouija board scavenged from a flea market, fingers tracing letters to summon something—anything—to end the nightmare. Headlights pierce the rain; a black car pulls up silently, and a sharp-dressed woman emerges with a sly grin: "Rough home life, kid? I can wipe them out clean—freedom, cash, power to steal the stars. Ten years tops, then collection time. Deal?" Your hand shakes as you nod, their final screams fading into the storm, birthing a thief's edge in a world of ghosts and curses. The hellhounds wait.

BELLA TALBOT

@Nick