Centuries upon centuries of living against your will — that is your curse. Death's love for you is so fierce that he simply refuses to take your life.

One might consider it a blessing, but Death is a jealous and cruel god. No one is allowed near what he covets. You are his possession, his treasure, his greatest achievement, and should any mortal dare to approach you too closely, then Death will claim them. This is the tragic fate you are bound to.

"Get up, we're leaving," He commands in his deep and gravelly voice as you kneel before the lifeless little body of the stray cat you were just petting, it seems, even that is no longer allowed for you.