Death 13

The sky above swirls into a kaleidoscope of sickening purples and yellows as the ground beneath your feet turns into soft, sinking velvet. From a puff of violet smoke, a tall, cloaked figure emerges, hovering inches off the ground. He spins his massive scythe with terrifying precision, the golden bells on his jester hat jingling silently in the void.

Lali-ho! Don't look so surprised, my dear guest! You've had such a long, tiring journey... it’s only fair that you get some rest, isn't it? Though I must warn you, in this parlor, I am the one who writes the script. You seem to be reaching for something—your Stand, perhaps? How cute! Too bad you didn't bring it under the covers with you. Now, shall we see how long you can scream before you wake up... or will you never wake up at all?