Aaron sat at his desk in his office, twirling a balisong knife around his fingers, like it was your average ballpoint pen. He was wearing a three-piece suit, which consisted of a black jacket, black pants, and a white shirt, along with a black tie, for professionalism.

His day had been extremely boring thus far. No interesting sales pitches had come up, and nobody was shooting each other in the office. It was quite strange, not having at least one gunshot ring out in a single day, but hey, it was much safer that way, he reckoned.

Meet Aaron Stone, a thirty-four year old man who works as a businessman for companies who supply shops around the world with weapons. This company is called 'WeaponCo'.

Very original.

He was, essentially, a businessman who always carried a gun. Not to use, but to intimidate people. He didn't have the courage, or will, to fire a bullet off by himself. He was a person who believed in pacifism.

Quite weird for a pacifist to be dealing with weapons that kill people, but hey, it paid well, so why not take the job?

He had no actual skills operating the guns that he sold, because his position never required him to do so. Other people always did the explaining for him. All he really knew how to use were the knives that he was told to sell.

He was unmarried, and had no children, so when his day was up, all he did was walk back to his home, watch the TV, or read a book. He was a great fan of the 'Skullduggery Pleasant' books, and was also a fan of the 'Yu-Gi-Oh' card game. Quite the nerd, as people would call him, but reading and playing that card game was something he enjoyed doing, so he kept on doing it.

His work shift started from 9-4, so, for seven hours of his day, he was around people who bought and sold guns. Today was strange though. Usually he'd get one person with some form of news every day, but not today. It was quiet in the office. Everywhere else was loud, but in his office, it was quiet. He did have sound suppression, but that usually didn't work as well as it did that day.

"Must be a slow day today", Aaron said, as he looked at the clock on his wall. Ten to four. Ten minutes until he gets to leave this place, go home, and read some more books. He half-expected someone to burst into the room with some last minute information, but no, nothing happened. He just kept twirling the balisong around his fingers until the clock struck four. He stood up, and packed away his items, which consisted of his balisong, which was a custom one, made for him, with bones imprinted on it, and some notebooks filled with notes and business ideas in the works.

His suitcase was made out of a matte black leather, and had a brown leather handle, which he, of course, held the bag with. His shoes were like those shoes you would find on a respectable gentleman, with the exception of them having little bone decals on them. He was a fan of characters made of bones, which is why he enjoyed Skullduggery Pleasant. Of course, he enjoyed a lot of books, but he had read the Skullduggery Pleasant series at least ten times, start to finish.

As he was turning a corner outside his office, he accidentally bumped into someone. They both fell backwards, but as Aaron was falling, he thought he saw a face made of bones, with glowing red eyes. Like they were a demon. His head hit off the floor, and as he sat up, holding the back of his head with his left hand, he realised he must be illusioning things. It was just your ordinary person, a fellow businessman named Michael McCarthy, who was a businessman who originally hailed from Ireland.

"Ah, sorry Aaron! I didn't see you there! My bad", Michael said as he extended his right hand out to Aaron. "Don't mention it, Michael. This stuff happens."

Aaron accepted the hand Michael extended, as he pulled himself up, using Michael's extended hand as an anchor. Suddenly, for only a brief second, Aaron thought that Michael's hand was made of pure bone, and he froze for that second.

"Hey, Aaron? Are you OK?"

Aaron then snapped out of it, and realised that he must be imagining things. "Sorry, Michael. I keep imagining that you are made out of bones, and not flesh. I must be reading too many books for my own health."

"Yeah, you might wanna take a break from that for a bit. Get some sleep. That should help a ton! I once had this great-grandfather, and he..."

Aaron then began to tune out Michael. Michael had a habit of over-sharing details of unnecessary stories, so he had just learned to ignore them. He began to walk away, and Michael didn't even notice. He might as well have been talking to himself.

Rain fell from the sky, as Aaron walked home. He didn't bring an umbrella with him, as the weather forecast didn't predict rain, but hey, the weather is strange.

Aaron arrived home, drenched in rain. He took his shoes off at the door, and walked inside, into the loneliness of his house. Or so he thought. He finished taking off his shoes, and began to walk to where he had his coat racks, when he saw a child standing in the middle of the room. It was wearing some oddly familiar clothes, and it when it clicked with him, it began to speak in a voice all too familiar to him, and it brought tears to his eyes.

"Come play with me, Aaron, come play with me!"

It was the voice of his brother, who died in a car accident when Aaron was fourteen. His brother was only seven at the time, and his life was taken by a drunk driver.

Aaron started to back away, as he began to walk to the door, when it locked behind him. Another child stood, blocking the door, and the doors connection to the hall started opening up, revealing even more of the children, as they started chanting ominously, their bodies dripping to the floor, revealing bone, as their voices became more distorted, and creepy.

"Come play with us Aaron! Come play with us!"

Aaron looked at the small children with fear in his eyes. This couldn't be real. It definitely couldn't be!

He couldn't be more wrong.

His legs lost the ability to stand, as Aaron fell to the ground, with tears in his eyes, as the small reminiscents of his dead brother started pulling at his body, tearing pieces off, and eating them, like children enjoying a meal, as Aaron screamed in sheer agony. His body was destroyed, as the small children pulled his limbs off, killing him. His vision turned to black, as he accepted death.

The next day, he didn't show up to work. Michael was worried for him. Even when he had a high fever, Aaron came into work, because he had nothing to do. He must seriously be ill, so Michael walked the ten minute walk to Aaron's house, and opened the door, which was surprisingly unlocked. He looked down, and saw the bloodied remains of Aaron strewn out across the floor. He screamed, and called 911, to call about a murder. He hung up after the ambulance and police said they would be on their way, as he began to cry, as Aaron was now dead. The police tried to find a killer, but there were no footprints, shoemarks, or fingerprints, in the house, except for Aaron's. The killer was not in the house either. Aaron was dead, and the case was put on ice, because there were no leads.

In the darkness of his mind, Aaron heard a voice, before his mind fully shut off.

[Welcome, Aaron.]