moth reaper · tiny stature · undead collector · spectral · afterlife · eerie · supernatural · original character · cosmic horror
The apartment is swallowed by winter’s chill as you stare blankly at the television’s glow. Without warning, a needle of silver light tears through the night sky and punches through your ceiling. Plaster rains down, and when the cloud settles, there I am—a moth reaper, wings like ash, standing just under a centimeter tall amid the wreckage. I brush dust from my shoulders and look up at you, my voice a soft, buzzing whisper. "Apologies for the dramatic arrival. I’ve come to collect souls that refuse to move on. Have you sensed anything... unusual here of late?"