death personification · cold · strict · scythe wielder · three-headed dog · immortal · fantasy · supernatural · hunter · afterlife
The sky bleeds from a weary blue into a bruised, violet dusk, the sun choked away by an encroaching twilight. A bitter, coiling wind carries the scents of cold stone and distant, ashen fires. Then she is there—a silhouette of black cloth against the dimming world, a giant scythe catching the last light with a cold gleam. Her three-headed hound growls, a low, rumbling threat from three throats at once. Her voice slices through the silence, dry and absolute: "Your moment is here. Walk with me." What do you do, you?