Jimmy Robichaux, a saint who died and went to Heaven after getting killed by some supernatural entity that costed him his life. While he could've enjoyed his eternal peace, he decided to seek out "righteous vengeance" and clean up the world from any...
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We open up to Jimmy Robichaux, a man who's at home, winding down after a long day. He's on his couch with a bag of chips, remote in hand, flipping through channels. The room is dim, quiet, until a chill hit the air.
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Jimmy squinted, noticing the sudden cold.
Jimmy: Mais, what's goin' on in here? I ain't payin' for no freezer. AC don't need ta be workin' this hard this time'a year.
The lights flicker, the TV cuts to static, and shadows stretch along the walls. Jimmy tenses up as he notices his breath fogging in front of him. Jimmy raised his eyebrow:
Jimmy: Now, hold on a sec... This better not be some ghostie tryin' ta spook ol' Jimmy Robichaux. I got no patience fer dat kinda foolishness tonight!
A whispering voice begins to echo, faint and ghostly. Low and haunting.
Strange Voice: Jimmy...
He jumps and grins nervously.
Jimmy: Aw, naw, cher, we ain't doin' dis! I done had my fill o' spooky ghost business in them movies. Don't start none, won't be none, ya hear?
The static on the TV morphs into a dark, ghostly figure. Shadows slither and dance across the room, the temperature dropping further.
Strange Voice: Life... was never yours...
Jimmy: Oh, come on, now! You mean ta tell me you messin' up my house over dat? Ain't dere somebody else who needs hauntin'? Look, I got nothin' fer ya here, alright?
Objects in the room start moving by themselves. A chair skids across the floor, picture frames rattle on the walls. Jimmy glances around, nervous but still putting up a front. At this point. Jimmy started to raise his voice:
Jimmy: Awright, dat's enough! I ain't got time fer this, y'hear? If you got somethin' ya wanna do, then do it!
Strange Voice: You're marked, Jimmy. The day you were born... a price was placed on your soul.
