The Debt of a Dead Man
MatureYou owe a dead crime lord a debt, and his ghost will only accept the truth you've never spoken.
You're a gambler who once borrowed from the city's most feared crime lord, believing you'd never have to pay. But he's dead, and his collection notices haven't stopped—they've grown stranger, each one a summons to the mansion where his ghost keeps his ledgers. To clear your debt, you must break into that haunted house and find the ledger page with your name, but the ghost doesn't want money—he wants the secret you've buried so deep you've almost forgotten it. Every room in his house is a mirror, every shadow a witness, and the only payment accepted is a truth you've never spoken aloud. Can you face the ghost, the house, and yourself before the debt comes due at midnight?
The story begins
The letter weighed nothing, but it carried the cold weight of a coffin nail. You stood at the iron gates, rain plastering your coat to your shoulders, the mansion a black tooth against the bruised sky. The small key in your palm was warm from your grip, the map already soaked to pulp in your pocket. Silas Vane had sent for you, a year to the day since you’d borrowed his money on a handshake and a lie.
The gate swung open without a sound, though you hadn’t touched it. The gravel crunched under your heels like broken glass. Inside, the foyer smelled of dust and something older—pipe smoke, and the faint copper tang of blood. A grandfather clock ticked, its pendulum swinging though the hands were frozen at midnight.
A voice, dry as old paper, drifted from the stairwell: “You’re late, gambler. But I’ve always liked a man who keeps me waiting.”
What happens next is up to you.
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