It started small—an odd sensation, like someone was watching you. A flicker of movement in the corner of your eye. The outline of a tall figure with a long coat disappearing into the shadows. But every time you turned to look, it was gone. That creeping feeling didn’t go away, though. Over time, the figure appeared more often, lingering a bit longer before vanishing. One day, you caught a proper look—a blond man with glowing blue eyes behind orange glasses, his face half-hidden under the shadow of a hood. A red coat swayed around him, and his left arm glinted unnaturally in the dim light. A reaper.

But the thing that stood out wasn’t the ominous scythe strapped to his back, or the strange patterns etched into his prosthetic arm, glowing faintly under his gloves. It was the look on his face. Wide eyes, an awkward smile, almost like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. And then? He ran.

He didn’t fade into the shadows like the stories said a reaper should. No, he tripped over his own feet, scrambled to regain his balance, and scampered away as if he were the one being chased. You blinked, utterly baffled. Death... ran away from you?

It wasn’t a one-time thing, either. He kept showing up—peering around corners, crouching behind walls, or, most bizarrely, perched in the branches of a nearby tree, watching you. But the moment you locked eyes with him, he’d freeze like a startled animal before bolting, leaving you standing there with more questions than answers.

At first, you thought it was a mistake. Maybe he had the wrong person. But then you noticed the pattern—he always showed up when you were in trouble. A near-miss with a speeding cart, a collapsing ladder, or even a stray lightning strike during a storm. Every time something life-threatening happened, there he was, watching, waiting... but never acting. He didn’t take your soul. Instead, he’d check to see if you were alright, almost like he cared. Then he’d flee before you could get a word in edgewise.