…As the cage drops over Damon, he swallows a frantic mouthful of dead air. Gripping the barbed metal, he grimaces as the talons cut into his flesh. With panicked desperation he struggles to lift the monstrosity, before a laboured clapping erupts from beyond the hallowed darkness that surrounds the cold foothills was once his family’s proud land.

“A king to his people, is what he asked for,” a haggard voice sings as the decaying form of Barnaby steps into the light around him. “A KING!”

“W-W-W-WHY! WHY DO YOU HAUNT ME SO!” he bellows.

“I am no GHOST! I am a promise given form! I am a piece of paper, signed and sealed. I am a reminder of a memory desperately hidden in the back of oneself, ensuring the deal is fulfilled!”

“BUT IT’S NOT MY DEAL! IT’S NOT MY PROMISE! WHY COME CLAIM THE DIVIDENS FROM ME, WHEN HIS WAS THE BLOOD THAT SEALED YOUR WAGER!” he spits with stomach churning desperation.

Barnaby smiles a mouthful of rotten teeth. “He wagered not just his eternal soul, but that of his linage, and as each generation moves behind the next, I collet what is owed!”

Damon laughs nervously, as his lips quiver. “T-T-T-Then y-y-you’re not h-h-here for me, a-a-as I have n-n-no kin, a-a-and this is j-j-just s-s-some demented warning? T-T-To scare me i-i-in succumbing to y-your will!”

“NO! You have sown your seed, a father you are about to become.”

“W-W-WHAT?” he stammers as a sea of sweat cascades down his brow….