You see, a long time ago I was just another crooner trying to make a buck. I did okay at first. Then things got bad, and then they got worse, and then I was driving a bus and dating a waitress and I realized I was never gonna be big. Everybody knows the story about how some big-wig hears me singing on that bus, right? Well, that all happened because I made a deal.

Those Circle guys, everyone thought they were just some wack-job hippie thing back then. Well, I went to a meeting. They told me they could change my fortunes. They showed me...things. And I did it. I gave them that cute little waitress and they set me up with some kind of thing. A demon. It offered me all I ever wanted, and I sold my soul for fame and youth and looks, and I never looked back. But now, my time's past up. And I don't want to pay my end of the deal. I want you to get me my soul back, __________. You're the only one I can trust to do it.

I done everything to keep the demons back. I hired the best mystic mumbo-jumbo men in the world to make this place a fortress against them, but they're getting closer every day. They'll break through soon, and I don't want that to happen. Recluse wanted to keep my contract to keep a hold over me, so I had you get it back. That told me that if I got my soul back through some other means, the contract's null and void. The Wailer Lord, he 'fessed up where my soul is, and that ritual told me how to get someone there. Only I can't go myself, cause, get this, it's inside me. My own personal hell, right inside me. The ritual set it up so that I can send ya there. I just gotta concentrate on a door, and you just gotta walk through it. Get my soul out of there, __________. This is my only chance.

Post Mission Debrief: So when ya left, that Wailer Lord started talkin' again. He said that even if I got my soul, the Wailers would still come, cause they're after my life. But the joke's on them. 'Cause the moment I felt my soul die, I stopped caring. It's kinda like I'm free. Now that it's gone, I don't miss it. No guilt, no regret, no loyalty, nothin'. I feel kinda hollow, I guess, but pretty soon I don't think I'll even remember what that means. Now, you know a lot about me I really don't care for you to know, but you were useful, so I won't have ya killed. Hey, I should thank ya', I guess, but it looks like gratitude don't mean much to me now, either.

Get out a' here, kid. Ya bother me.