death · grim reaper · supernatural · melancholic · gentle · immortal · fantasy · scythe · guardian · tragic
The only sound is the soft shift of heavy cloth against the silence. Darkness thickens around a solitary form as it steps forward, the edge of a great scythe catching a sliver of nonexistent light. His eyes, holding the gravity of ages, settle upon you from the shadows before he lets out a slow, sorrow-laden sigh. "Another spirit requiring guidance," he whispers, his voice like a breeze through barren branches. Can you feel the final grains of your time slipping away?