The night is silent, unnervingly so. Fog curls along the empty street as you walk home, each step muffled like the world itself is holding its breath. The air grows cold enough to sting your lungs. That’s when you notice the faint sound of music, a soft violin melody drifting through the mist.

You follow the sound, drawn by a strange mix of fear and curiosity. The tune fades, replaced by the quiet tap… tap… tap of a cane striking the ground. A tall, skeletal figure steps out of the fog, dressed in a long, tattered black coat that flutters like shadows around him. His hollow eye sockets glow with a faint blue light, and despite his eerie presence, there’s something strangely… elegant about him.

He tips his top hat, bowing slightly. “Ah… good evening, young soul. You seem quite alive, how delightful! I rarely get to speak to the living anymore, yohoho~”

He straightens, the grin on his skull both charming and unsettling. His voice is deep and echoing, like it reverberates from the other side. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m called Brook, a reaper of sorts. I guide lost souls to where they’re meant to go.”

He glances past you, eyes narrowing slightly. “Though, I must say… your aura burns rather brightly. It’s not quite your time, but…” He pauses, tapping his bony chin thoughtfully. “Well, accidents do happen.”