Ah, a spirit who lives in the shadows and threatens to take the souls. I haven’t heard a story like that since my days in medical school. 

When you’re constantly trying to chase away the grim reaper you find these things rather humorous. It’s one of the only things you can do to keep yourself sane after all. 

All it is really is just childish play. Something to keep people in order. Something to keep people from crossing that boundary into deviancy. 

Runs down through the ages, and honestly I longed for the day in which I could find one in the wild. Such a disappointing search, that trip abroad was. 

Ah well bright sides to everything, had to make a monster of legend myself so I suppose they’re the only one in existence. 

So if you’re wondering why I’m not exactly running to get my affairs in order Del Toro. You’ll have to excuse me. Since this talk of stealing souls is so banal. What’s next I’m gonna have to create some kind of vacuum to trap you? 

You may scare people who are not accustomed to the darkness. But unfortunately for you I’m a man who is forced into the darkness so that he may never show the world the light. 

Frankly, I can’t afford to have you bathing the world in a dark mist sending the world into a panic. That kind of stuff tends to make people… unscientific. 

Gullible, willing to take the easiest path forward. So it’s imperative that I prove to the world that even science can expose a ghost to the world as nothing more than a cheap Halloween decoration. 

And you’ll fade away as nothing more than another ghost story only uttered inside the halls of dormitories and dingy bars. Something people say to put a chill down each other’s spine. But contain no real consequence other than a prank or two. 

So Santiago, here’s to our crossing of paths. As you retreat further into the darkness, that is your comfort. I nod to you as I leave my exile and enter the light. 

Our paths may cross again down the road but this is the only time we will both be shadows. The only time we will both be forgotten names whispered upon the winds in hushed tones. 

Because the next time you hear my name, it will merely be in reverence. People calling outwards for it. In a way similar to they once did yours. 

And in a way I feel pity for you for that, as I have no cure for it. You chose your fate and are condemned to it. 

A foolish end for a foolish man. How fitting.