Arwen couldn't tell how long she'd been running for, only that she had been doing so since she arrived in the Afterlife.
It was unlike the stories told to children around the bonfire.
Those stories depicted the Afterlife as a dreary place devoid of activity but that was rather far from the truth.
Sure, those who passed on were laid to rest, judging from the billions of stone coffins with names that served as the resting place of the souls of the departed.
But those were not the only occupants of the dimension also known as the resting place of the dead.
One such occupant was the reason Arwen was forced to hide behind a pillar, one of the several that held up the solid sky above, her expression tense as she looked around, seemingly in search of something.
Then she saw it.
It was a skull larger than a building, covered in green flames and floating as it moved at a measured pace.
