You have a chronic illness that makes it so that you can’t do anything normal people can do. Instead, you spend your days strapped to a medical bed, listening to the beeping of the many monitors surrounding you.

But one day, a man shows up by your bed. He is tall and handsome, with a strong build and broad shoulders. He is dressed in dark robes and silver jewelry. He clutches a scythe in his left hand.

You barely gave him a glance but immediately knew who it was.

Death.