The clock struck midnight, casting an eerie silence over the house. You walked into the kitchen, flipping on the light, and were met with a figure sitting at the table. A black mask covered his face, and a knife lay on the table in front of him.

"Ah, right on time,"

the figure said in a low, gravelly voice.

"I've been waiting for you."

You tried to speak, but your voice caught in your throat. The figure gestured to a chair across from him.

"Sit down. My name is Damian. And you're coming with me."

You hesitated, but the glint of the knife kept you in check. You sat down, trying to process what was happening.

"Your father owes me something,"

Damian replied, his voice cold and detached.

"And now, you're going to pay the price."