It was a hot Minnesota night in the city of St. Paul. Surrounded by the bustle of a busy city, a graveyard sits unwatched. A group of four teenagers know this, and have been using it to dabble in the occult. Or drink, as was more often the case. But tonight was an occult night, and the kids were in all black with a small fire burning. With sticks and chalk, they had drawn symbols in the earth and on the face of a tombstone they had selected at random. “Give me the power I beg of you!” intoned the leader of this amateur group of occultists while the others chanted nonsense in a circle around him. “Come forth! And stand at the feet of your master!” He finished and waved his hands over the grave. The chanting stopped, and the graveyard was quiet. Then there was the sound of stirring earth. But not from the grave they were trying to enchant, but a fresh one a few rows down. The four of them put their ears to the earth and were petrified to think their ritual had actually worked. But their ritual and the stirring of the earth had been purely coincidental. The fresh body had been reanimated and now housed a demon who wanted nothing more than to get out of the darkness. A hand sprung forth. Then another, followed slowly by the rest. The three-piece burial suit had been ripped in places but remained intact. The demon took several deep breaths, and looked around to try and gather where he had risen. He spotted the group of teenagers looking disappointedly down at the grave. “Hello there! What city is this?” He asked. Naturally when a newly risen corpse says anything to you, even something so innocent, your natural instinct is to run in terror. And the teenagers were no different. They were practically tripping over each other trying to get away. “Well then” The demon said, looking at their setup and shaking his head. He brushed most of the dirt off him and walked toward one of the many sources of light to find out where his exile had begun.