Coffin Hotel

All I wanted was a burrito. My name is Brandon Ferryman. I went out one night to get a burrito. Who knew that such a simple thing would change my life, or end it? I woke up on the side of the road with some pumpkin-headed monster saying he was the god of death, fate, and justice. I was chosen to run a very special establishment. A place that lay between worlds. A place called the Coffin Hotel. Now I have to fight monsters, free spirits, and run a mystical hotel. I'm clearly not qualified, but when has that ever stopped anyone from doing anything.

My name is Brandon Ferryman. I went out one night to get a burrito. Who knew that such a simple thing would change my life, or end it? I woke up on the side of the road with some pumpkin-headed monster saying he was the god of death, fate, and justice. I was chosen to run a very special establishment. A place that lay between worlds. A place called the Coffin Hotel.

When my boss, the god of Autumn, Death, and Justice, appeared out of the blue and gave me an assignment that may be filled with certain danger, an unholy artifact, and watching over three monstrous women, you bet your dead heart you better pay attention.

The good. The afterlife lately has been pretty sweet for the most part. The staff has grown, and we all are getting along famously. The hotel is looking great, and the soul pennies keep flowing in, clawed hand over fist. I've been thinking about adding a new wing to the hotel and maybe purchasing those little mints you put on pillows to classy up the joint. The bad. Horrific monsters want to raid the hotel. I have pages to an unholy book that can end the world. Monstrous bikers are terrorizing the guests.