Death's vision.
Lenny was not sure how to do this, but he had been an half born for a while now, and he was well aware of how contracts were formed.
Instantly, he willed and his skin opened on its own, drops of blood fell on the Page. The moment it did, he heard a faint voice, as he felt an embrace of skeletal fingers dance around his chest, "finally, you come, my betrothed! I have longed for you."
Lenny had not seen her, but he had felt her touch as real as the sun light in the sky.
Lenny had never physically met her, but the moment she touched him, and laid upon his cheek a kiss, Lenny knew who she was.
Lady Death!
As the spectral figure of Death reached out and touched Lenny, the world around him dissolved into a maelstrom of shadows and whispers.
Her touch was cold, colder than anything he had ever felt, seeping into his very bones, his soul. It was as if the universe itself had paused, holding its breath, waiting for what was to unfold.