The Grim Reaper II

In the hushed whispers of midnight's veil, a haunting presence materializes, a figure veiled in shadows, draped in a billowing onyx cloak that sways ominously with each deliberate step.

It was obvious the Grim Reaper had come to acquire Rama's soul, but Draco was burning with resolve, unwilling to let that happen. If he had to, he would disrupt the balance of fate itself.

As he stood in front of the altar, shielding her body from the Grim Reaper, with precise movements, it took off its hood to reveal its face.

His chiseled countenance, handsome yet eerily captivating, was framed by locks of midnight-black hair cascading like tendrils of the night itself.

Eyes as dark as the abyss held an unfathomable depth, devoid of mercy, harboring the wisdom of countless eons. His presence exuded an unsettling aura, an otherworldly magnetism that drew both fear and fascination from those who chance upon his path.