I didn't see the truck, not until it was far too late.
As I died, a figure formed before me, smoke gathering into a hood, bone hands tightly gripping a scythe as it prepared to swing.
"Seriously? Scythe wielding skeleton? Come on..."
The scythe dipped.
"I try to appear how one expects. You'd prefer the busty female version from your comic books?"
I shook what was the equivalent of my head.
"How about what you actually are? I don't appreciate lies, regardless of the reason."
The figure paused, and then became everything and nothing, simultaneously. Shocked me to, you know.
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