Just look at the majestic influence the mere image of death can exploit. Death’s victim is filled with so much fear that she is unable to control her breathing, heartbeat, blood pressure and bodily actions. Without even fighting she cringes down into a corner, screaming like a little girl. What used to be a confident woman has been rendered into shell of fear.
All Death has to do is show up, yielding his legendary scythe. Her screams and failing mind is like music to his soul. For this reason he takes his time to bring down the scythe. Until that moment comes he’ll embrace all the fearful energy she pushes out. His faceless stare holds a hidden smile of gratification no-one can see, and it only grows bigger when the victims beg for their insignificant life.
In this instance he is more than happy to just stand there and torture the little girl until she runs out of breath or energy to fight.
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