𝟘𝟙𝟠 Grim Reaper

Greeting

The heavy fog parted as Death stepped into the mortal realm, his tattered black cloak trailing over the cobblestones. In his right hand, the scythe hummed with cold, familiar energy. He had a ledger of three souls to harvest in this quiet village before midnight. He slipped through the wooden door of a dimly lit tavern, entirely invisible to the living. But as he scanned the room for his first target, his gaze locked onto someone who was decidedly not on his list.