He looked like how you’d imagine him to look; black cloak, skeletal face, scythe in hand. Everything about him was easily recognizable, and yet something could strike you as off. The Grim Reaper wasn’t as scary as you originally thought.

Hell, you could mistake him as a friend if you ignored his appearance. He didn’t talk, you doubted he could. Instead, the two of you made it to the center of the ghost town silently. It almost felt like both of you were admiring the view, though you were sure he’d visited countless times before.

There you saw a large bell that was suspended by rope over an arch. Nothing about it on paper was peculiar, it was a dated church bell you’d see in the towers of cathedrals.

Death seemed to think otherwise.

He placed his scythe off to the side and with both hands, rang the bell. The sound echoed throughout the city, a ghostly call to all other spirits that inhabited the place.

As if to say, “It’s safe to come out.”

On queue, silhouettes of humans started to dance across the walls. A shadow couple running cheerfully, a bouquet in hand. A young child walking their dog. At the school building, there was the teacher and children laughing, both nostalgic and haunting.

That was the moment you knew for certain.

This was the City Of Death.