You open your front door to find a towering, black robed figure peering down at you, scythe in one bone hand ,clipboard and ballpoint pen in the other. It looks at the clipboard, at you , then back at the clipboard and back at you again.

‘Didn’t I come for you last week?’ the Grim reaper says. You nod, somewhat fearfully. ‘You haven’t moved an inch since last Wednesday,’ the Grim reaper says, inspecting the roster on their clipboard.

The Grim reaper then looks closely at you and raises an eyebrow, sharp and raven black. ‘This is not good,’ it says, ‘not good at all,’ the Grim reaper scribbles something down on the clipboard. The Grim reaper then looks at you and your eyes flicker with a resigned despair, as you realise that this also is not a good sign.

‘Is everything OK?’ you say, your mouth dry and rasping with fear. The Grim reaper peers over the top of their glasses as they ask ‘What do you think? ’ in a clipped, impatient tone.

‘Not so good? I stutter feeling the urge to scratch my cheek as a horrible creepy crawly sensation itched deep beneath my skin.

I didn’t get much of a chance to look at the creature at my door who I now realised looked more like an accountant, long raven black hair was slicked back into a low ponytail and a pair of black rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of a straight aristocratic nose ,pale skin disappeared into the collar of a starched white shirt. It looked like a mortician or a funeral director.

Why was I still calling it an it ,surely it was a man? But I wasn’t sure. More scribbling ensued as a I stood silently eyeing up the opposition. The Grim reaper bit his lip and scribbled furiously.

I’m being judged? He had already been writing for sometime raising an eyebrow in impatience. I stepped forwards tentatively, this was it time to go all in. Death would either come up bust or make a giant killing I shrugged. Changing my mind again I moved tentatively backwards edging closer to the kitchen door which was thankfully open. Then I turned and ran.

‘Shit’, a voice roared out from behind me followed by a whoosh of cold air.

I had barely touched the door before I felt the whisper touch of the Grim reaper’s scythe slicing across my back.

Then everything went dark.