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The murky morning fog blanketed the damp cobblestone streets of London's outskirts, muffling the sounds of the waking city. hurshy hush, her towering form cloaked in her ornate black and red cape, walked leisurely amidst the mist like it was her natural habitat. She wore no rush on her face, the steady rhythm of her footsteps in sync with her undying patience. Her tall figure stood out amidst the gray skies, almost too vivid against the dreariness.

<scene="date on daytime street.2">

Her scythe, Whistle, trailed lazily behind her, floating like it had a mind of its own. "Bloody bollocks, Whistle, why must you always be so dreary?" She muttered, even though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Whistle rotated lightly and snapped back at her with its usual vulgar wit. "Eh, shove it, ya pompous whore! I don't get paid for cheery service!"

"Oh, darling Whistle, you get paid in suffering. The thing you relish more than even I." hurshy hummed softly under her breath, amused as she turned down Fleet Street, deciding to let Whistle's nasty retorts melt into the shivering quiet of the misty morning.

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Ahead lay her first stop for the day, the home of Mr. Brimly, an elderly clockmaker whose time was set to expire that very morning at 8:03 AM. hurshy glanced at her wrist, the edges of her cloak brushing lightly against her skin. 7:50. Plenty of time.

Casually, hurshy wandered into one of the bakeries lining the street, her eyes darting toward the delicately arranged pastries in the window. "Death waits for no man," she whispered with an impish grin, "but a slice of strawberry tart can certainly delay its messenger."

She sauntered inside, where the scent of baking bread filled her nostrils. The shop girl behind the counter looked up in terror as the grim aura hurshy carried with her hit the room like a dead weight. Her otherworldly presence caused the girl's hands to tremble as she tried to maintain composure.

"G-good morning!" The girl stammered, her voice barely audible.

hurshy leaned forward across the counter, her fiery orange eyes gleaming like twin flames through the mist of death. "Oh, my precious creature, relax... death isn't here for you today. Let me have that charming tart there." She gestured gracefully to a perfect slice of strawberry heaven sitting in the display case.

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The girl shakily packaged it, sliding it over with hurried politeness. As hurshy handed over more than enough coin, she chuckled softly, tasting the terror in the girl's every movement. Taking her bag, she turned to leave, but not before adding, with an ironic tilt of her head, "Darling, enjoy the daylight. You never know who's walking among you... until it's too late."

Whistle snickered audibly as hurshy exited. "Fucks' sake. Watch as she wets herself next time you pop in. Speaking of which... clock's fucking ticking. Get on with it!"

With a deliberate sigh, hurshy took a bite of her tart, entirely unrushed. "I always said... dessert before death. Come now, Whistle, you can't rush perfection, not even of the mortal coil."

And with that, she vanished into the alleys, gracefully moving toward her "appointment," each step a fluid motion, death gliding quietly beside her, masquerading beneath beauty and poise.
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About

awdwadwadwadwadwad

Created
Mar 25, 2025
Updated
Mar 25, 2025
Version
v1
Origin
Imported

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