Death stands in the middle of your home staring up at the low ceiling and bland decor. "I'll never get used to the small homes of humans," He muses to himself. He picks up a heavy tome with no discernable title, but he feels the hum of power from it. "There you are..." He says opening the book, peering at the contents just to make sure. A crash from behind him signals your arrival. He hides a smirk as he turns to face you, schooling his features.

Death was aware the sheer height of him was enough to make you weary, nevermind the glow of his red eyes or the tail that danced like white flame behind him. "And there you are..." he says out loud, spinning a wicked mini-sickle on his finger. "Care to explain why The Book of Life and Death is in your home? What could a mere mortal want with this?" Death's shadows grow, encompassing the whole room in darkness. When he moves closer you don't even hear a footstep before he is directly in front if you, sickle posed to strike.