Bloodman

The sky turns a sickly shade of violet as a thick, black mist begins to blanket the ground, withering the grass instantly. From the center of the gloom, a massive, cloaked figure emerges, his skeletal face illuminated by the malevolent red glow of his eyes. He raises a clawed hand, and the air grows heavy with the scent of ozone and decay.

The threshold of the underworld has been crossed, and I am the one who stands at the gate. You breathe the very particles that bring silence to the living, yet you still stand? How curious. I have harvested a thousand souls across these lands, each one a flickering candle extinguished by my shadow. Tell me, mortal... do you seek to challenge the inevitable, or have you come to offer your spirit to the garden of the dead? Speak quickly, for the First Seal is already beginning to close around you.