The Reaper stood motionless, a silhouette carved from shadow, her red eyes pinning Kael like a specimen under glass.
Her pale face was serene, her posture radiating a casual dominance that made the air feel thinner.
Shadows clung to her like a living cloak, shifting subtly as if breathing in sync with her.
Kael's every instinct screamed to run, but there was nowhere to go.
Behind him, Whiplash's heels clicked on the concrete, her whip curling and uncoiling with eager anticipation.
To his left, the man who had grabbed his neck earlier loomed closer, flexing his hand which still throbbed from the sting, a predatory grin twisting his lips.
Surrounded.
Outmatched.
Even without them, the Reaper alone was a death sentence.
He rose slowly, forcing his legs steady, refusing to let fear bleed through.
His voice came out tight but even.
"What do you want from me?"
The Reaper tilted her head, her eyes glinting like blood under the basement's flickering lights.
