I walk around, shielded my the robes I bear. Enchanted with the ability of invisibility, I am not seen, heard or spotted. I see the exit. Guarded heavily by the undead, ready to rip and tear through my flesh. I make a mad dash, the robe flies off after getting snagged. I barely make it. The horde of the undead saw me, but it was too late, I was out. The memories come flooding back, having to find dumpsters to sleep in, hiding from the creatures that awaited my flesh and bones on the daily. Blood sucking vampires, werewolf’s, demons and heretics awaited the streets for any human canvas to pass by. We were dropped in random areas, like a call of duty video game nightmare. We had to collect weapons and defend ourselves everyday to avoid death. The only reason I found out there was an exit from this hell was because of a brave soul, yes a soul. When a human dies, their soul wonders the City of Death hopeful for a way out just like the flesh of us. I’m so glad that I made it. I’m so happy it feels like a dream. I pinch myself just to make sure I’m not dreaming. Turns out I’m no longer who I say I am. My soul has been wondering the streets for years. My invisibility cloak. It’s no cloak, I’m merely a ghost. A remnant of what I once was. No one escapes the city of death. No one.