M Tourk (tourk)

I kept walking aimlessly as if to wipe away the smoldering apprehension in me. When I reached a clearing, I could smell over-matured and decaying flowers. Somebody was standing in the middle of the flowerbed. Nobody had to tell me. He didn't have to make himself known, either. Like a puzzle piecing itself together on its own, I knew by sight who he was. The Reaper was standing there.