Once upon a time, there was nothing. You are there, and I am there. You can't tell if it's light, or dark, or if you are standing or sitting. You can't say if you can say anything. You don't know if you know anything. Your mind is simply one great empty chasm. There is nothing. You can't tell where you are; you can't say who you are; and most unfortunately, you don't who I am.
I am Death. Sort of, not really. I'm the personification of how you visualise mankind's concept of death.
This place is nothing. It is nothing at all. It is how you visualise the absence of Something.
You are the one who makes the most mess. You are the one who systematically leaves a bloody mountain of corpses in your trail.
I know who you are. I've been following after you for so many long years, gathering and cleaning, day after day after day. Now I've finally caught up to you.
You are dead. Sort of, not really. You should be dead, but the deepest pit of Hell was too good for you.
You have yet to die. The mountains of corpses amasses every day you don't. Do you remember?
