Hear my tale of a hell hopeless as it is dirty. All who enter lose their wills, their souls and walk among the dead. This retail establishment exceeded all expectations or rather disappointed them. Caked in dust, the floors and ceiling fans are grey and decaying from the lack of cleaning going on. Despite cleaners come in twice a week, the store remains covered in layers of grey snow, you should never eat. Years and years of disgust linger in the air, possibly because of the used items hung on racks like paper ghosts on Halloween. Only these ghosts contain the remnants of their last owners, almost bound to them until a new master claims them, well demons.
These monsters have terrible wrath, ready to act upon any unfortunate soul in their vicinity. They bicker amongst each other, steal and shout, scrutinize with beady eyes, devoid of humanity. Other demons, the more lax, wander about, caught in the ghosts saunter, unaware of the passing souls gathering and maintaining their precious ghosts. They believe in entitlement and impede us from working, they only serve as obstacles, inanimate objects taking up space. You can try to call or warn them of your approach, but they hardly listen, their ears glued shut by dry wax, oozing out their ears. Although some are good, agreeable, respectful, most are dreaded devils ready to sink their claws into your back.
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