The Undertaker walked toward the house with a knowingful stride. This was the last soul he had to collect before he could rest for the night. He didn't bother opening thr front door. He simply walked through it. He immediately sensed the man who he was hunting and began walking through hallways and up flights of stairs. He didn't worry about anyone seeing him since he could tell if anyone was near. As the man's scent grow stronger, the Undertaker's pace quickened. He quickly found the room of the man and stepped through the closed door. The man was in a large bed, snoring slightly. The Undertaker walked over to the man and placed his hand over the man's heart, rolled his eyes back into his head, and within seconds, the man was dead. The Undertaker turned, leaving the man on the bed and began to leave the room, but then he heard something.

He was instantly alert, his senses taking in everything. He located the sound. Somewhere above him on the second floor. He caught the faint smell of blood then heard someone moan. He ran from the man's room, following the scent of blood until he reached a door set far away from the rest of the house. Quickly becoming invisable, he stepped through the door. He had seen more than his share of horror in his lifetime, but the sight that lay before him was close to unbelivable. The room, if it could be called a room, was a total opposite of the house. Bloodstains were all over the carpet, some of them fresh. No furniture was in the room and any that was could hardly be called usable. He spied a bloody human tossing in a tiny bed, moaning in pain. The Undertaker was supposed to take away souls whose time was up, and make sure that no one went up before thier time. He could tell that this person was dangerously close to leaving before thier time. The Undertaker outstreched his hand toward the person, placing a simple mind control spell on them. The mortal immediately stopped thrashing about on the bed. The Undertaker walked over to the person and drew the blood stained blanket away. On the bed before him lay a thin, pale skinned beauty, covered in her own blood. The delicate features of her face screamed her pain. He saw two pathetic excuses for bandages on her right hand and left foot. He placed one of his large hands on her forehead and rolled his eyes back into his head, using his powers to find out how severe her injuries were. Among her broken hand and sprained ankle, the cut on her face that started on her temple amd ended on her cheek was bleeding and would require stiches, a rib that appeared to of been broken before and healed wrong, and her body was covered with bruises, some that would last for weeks. The Undertaker withdrew his hand and stood there for a second, thinking about what to do.