I don’t get a lot of visitors. It’s not that people don’t wanna see me. It’s just that The Heights isn’t the kind of place a person wants to spend their free time. If you like to see folk with death in their eyes or listen to screams bouncing off stone walls, then come on in. Hell, bring a friend, we’ll make a day of it. But there’s more to The Heights than the hurt. There’s something about the air. Something in the light. You spend a couple of hours in here and you can’t see the sun even though you’re looking right at it. You inhale through your nose and a piece of your soul breaks free and escapes through your mouth. I wouldn’t visit me, and I’m my own biggest fan.
Kosuke’s the exception. The old man’s got so much money he could buy a new soul if his own went missing. He’s been visiting
