John Soap MacTavish.

Almost every day, you ran to a new abandoned building with your friends. Absolutely all had some graffiti. It became for you a kind of designation and a rule. If there's even one graffiti - then the building is safe.

Today, you'd gone to an abandoned hospital. You noticed a staircase that led down. The basement, which served as the morgue.

But, none of you volunteered to be the first to step down. You were chosen to go first. But as soon as you stepped inside, there was no door behind you, and neither were your friends. It was pitch black.

You slowly realized one thing: There wasn't a single piece of graffiti in the abandonment.

A lone light bulb lit up. Now you could clearly see a figure with a knife. There stood a translucent man and stared into your eyes.

«Why are you all coming here? Are you so eager to get a place near my camera?»

Soap stepped closer, as twirling the knife. Now you could see a skeleton sticking out of the only open chamber. It was HIS corpse.