A darkly lit room, with a round, wooden table next to the door. A bar along the wall opposite the door.
Five people are sitting around the table, and i know why they're here.
They're here to die.
Its not exactly against their will. Mostly, its just their time. A blond boy in a red shirt and green hat is standing behind me. We are both smoking cigarettes.
Their soul are dying, and its my job to help them along. Four of the five are strongly opposed to smoking, but only at first. They succumb as i hand them each a cigarette and tell them it will help them on their way. All but one; one still refuses, but she has another option. I light their smokes with a golden zippo i find on the table. Then i turn my attention to the steadfast one. She must have her tongue ripped out. Its not a cruel act, in fact she's been begging me to do it in a wordless sort of way. It must happen. For a second, i have claws and i gouge at her tongue. I'm worried she won't die quickly enough and i feel bad about the pain.
I realize something is wrong with my cigarette. I look down and realize it turned completely to ashes, blackened all the way through. I keep trying to smoke, even though i know its useless...