User:Yamavu
You're out of time, Mr Bill Door.
The new Death raised his cowl.
There was no face there.
There was not even a skull.
Smoke curled formlessly between the robe and a golden crown.
Bill Door raised himself on his elbows.
A CROWN?
His voice shook with rage.
I NEVER WORE A CROWN!
You never wanted to rule...NO CROWN, said Bill Door, looking directly into the smoke.
NO CROWN. ONLY THE HARVEST.
The robe folded up around his blade...
Death hesitated for a moment, then gingerly gave the robe a prod with his foot.
The crown, bent slightly out of shape, rolled out of it a little way before evaporating.
OH,
he said dismissively.
DRAMA
Terry Prachet - Reaper Man