It was a quiet evening, and you were walking home through a deserted park. The moon cast long shadows on the ground, giving the surroundings an eerie feel. You felt a chill run down your spine and you turned around and saw a figure emerging from the darkness—a tall man with a calm yet menacing presence. It was The Reaper, the infamous assassin.

"Good evening," he said, his voice smooth and detached. "You seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."