Canis paced back and forth across the dimly lit room. His contemplations were endless and he enthralled his mind with every possible scenario and outcome. The faint glow emanating from the young man's computer eagerly awaited the audible "ding" that was broadcasted should a message be sent through the open chat room. It was nerve-racking; the poor soul's lover had been rushed to the hospital just a few soul-destroying hours ago.

It had been a relatively calm morning that soon-to-be dreary day, Canis and her where enjoying each other's company underneath a lovely weeping willow resting gracefully just outside a geese-frequented pond. Her head rested gently upon his sturdy shoulder as they gazed with magic in their eyes, for the sunrise was something that should always be met with the upmost enthusiasm. It was a truly romanticized situation, one in which Canis had been awaiting for the longest of time. This was because that despite being deeply in love and constantly being with one another, they have yet to share but a single passionate kiss. The love-struck lad saw his opportunity as the majestic far-off sun finished its ascension into the clear blue skies; it seemed too good to be true! Alas, it was.

All he could do now was think, he can't be in the operating room with her, he cannot watch. All he could do was go home and await news. No one really understand what the problem was, Canis surely did not. It all happened so fast, it was difficult to process. He did not know if she would be ok, he did not know if he would ever see the beauty in her deep blue eyes once more, or if they would be but lifeless and grey. He could not determine whether or not her gentle heart would still be beating should be rest his head upon her. His lovers fate remained shrouded in the misty vale of confusion that weighed heavily on the hospital staff. No one knew, no one could comprehend, it was inconceivable. How could such a healthy and symptomless individual come under such an aliment so fast? Should the CDC be alerted? Should there be quarantine? There was no disease, no virus and no bacteria. She was just…dying.

After the threat was cleared and it was obvious her condition was not well and had no chance of improving, her family as well as the grief-stricken boy where summoned to witness her final moments. Her sisters and parents rushed down the hall and into the bright white room, sobbing as the saddened sun began to rest gently on the ends of the sky. Canis himself did not enter, he couldn't bring himself too. Had it been his fault? She had been with him all morning. Could he have done something different? The possibilities seemed endless and the poor soul was overwhelmed to the point of collapsing into the nearest char situated in the farthest corner of the waiting room. The area was eerily empty, void of all inhabitants, the only detectable sound being the weeping of a broken-hearted family. Canis did not even hear the footsteps that generated the sound of fine leather hitting the cold marble floor; he did not notice the man in a fine black suit walk up to him. The tall man moved his gelled hair back and stood tall as if preparing a speech or a business proposition, Canis did not notice any of this and he did not even know the man was there, until he spoke. "Say pal, you don't look so good" The young man wiped his tears away as he heard the obvious words; he attempted to straighten up only to end up in a saddened slouch. "May I sit down?" The tall male's voice sounded more like a command than a request. Either way, Canis obliged. "Thanks' it's been too long since I sat in a comfortable chair". Canis adjusted his position in his chair; he wondered what kind of seating accommodations this gentleman had, for these stiff hospital chairs where anything but comfortable. "You shouldn't feel guilty you know. There was nothing you could have done". These words hit the lad hard, how did this stranger know of what had happened? Was he a family member Canis had not met? An uncle perhaps? "You can still save her you know, if you do something for me". This proposal debunked nearly every theory he had come up with, how did this person know what had happened? More importantly, how can he do something the doctors cannot? "Sign this, and we can get to work" While Canis had been trying to decipher what was even going on, the man had pulled out a strange contract written out on a sheet of parchment. The seal on the top was a rather strange looking door that seemed to depict a human face, The contract itself was written in the blackest "ink" that could be read only by those who knew the ancient language of Latin. Canis, having taken Latin as his hobby, began to decipher the suspicious document. "Oh, I assure you it is nothing criminal. It is simply a formality that must not be ignored in my line of work". Canis drew his attention to the bottom half of the page instead, he gazed at the unnervingly strait line that declared ones name be written in their own blood. Any sane person would have gotten up and left, any intelligent person would have alerted the proper authorities. But the Greif-stricken soul was desperate, if this man surely was the devil, then he could most likely mend the ailments that plague his beloved. He was smart enough to understand that signing this document would not end well for him, but all he cared about was saving her. He would not fail, and he would do what he had too.

Withdrawing his Swiss army knife from within his vest pocket, the determined young man slit a small incision across the top of his palm. He did not even need to scrawl out his name on the cursed page, for as the droplets hit, his world was consumed by shadow and two long spiked hands circled him like sharks as they closed into on him. Having realized the gravity of what he had done, Canis attempted to flee toward the hallway, only to be stopped by one of the (what he thought were) slow moving hands. The other came up from behind him, and as he attempted to dart to the side he was seized forcefully by both of the figures. They forcefully and determinedly dragged him down into what he could only assume was to be his hell.

And he was all too correct.