"Oh…? A fresh soul," the stranger remarked with a hoarse voice. "What foul machinations did you perform in your life to end up here, I wonder?"
The man of withered skin looked at him with glossy, black eyes, picking himself up from the sand with an air of curiosity. One thing stood out more than anything, though, one of the man's eyes possessed an iris like that of a six-pointed star.
"Here? Where is "here", exactly?" Finn asked, staring at the peculiar individual.
There wasn't a single article of clothing worn by the hollow stranger besides the remnants of a dark coat, barely a scarf clinging to his body.
"You don't know? This is the place below the deepest layers of Hell, exclusive only for the most wicked, yes…The most sinful souls of our kind, yes," the hollow man explained with a decrepit grin.
"So, it really is Hell…I didn't want to be right on that one," Finn mumbled to himself.
