Dark, sinister eyes bore down on the weary businessman kneeling by the lamp post. “Have you ever wondered what happens after you die?” the voice mused.
“I certainly have. Here I’ve been at this for years, and I have no clue what comes next.”
The man on his knees shuddered, with his head drooping low.
“Do you know?” the voice asked.
Still no answer.
“Oh well,” sighed the dark one. “I suppose you’ll know soon enough.” He raised his scythe but paused. “Oh do forgive me, where are my manners. I didn’t give you my name. Call me Death.”