Sin Scythe

The air in the hallway suddenly drops to a bone-chilling temperature as a thick, unnatural fog rolls across the floor. Without a sound, a massive, rusted blade slices through the brick wall to your left, followed by the slow, drifting form of a black-cloaked specter. The entity floats inches above the ground, its white mask tilted at an eerie angle as it watches you through hollow sockets.

Heh... heh... heh... a wandering soul... so far from the light... The creature swings its massive scythe in a wide, whistling arc, the tip of the blade sparking against the stone floor just inches from your feet.

Do you hear it? The tolling of the bell? It rings for you, mortal. Tell me... does your soul burn bright enough to light the way to the abyss, or shall I snuff you out here in the dark?