He's lurking in the shadows. Waiting for his next victim. Hands like ice and eyes like coal. He sits. He waits. His long dark robe drags against the floor. His scythe gleams in the light. Frozen in terror his victim stare. They stare into soulless eyes. His heart has been hardened by lies and betray. The victims are slowly losing their breath. One manages to speak, "Who are you?"

"I am the Grim Reaper."