Shepherd of the Dead

A dark figure slowly emerged from the dark.

He was wearing long jeans and a jacket, matched with a long golden mohawk. His hair was long enough to cover his shoulders if it hadn't been tied up with a metal hairband.

His sharp brown eyes were scanning Kieran with a curious expression.

"2567? The Bird of Death? The kingsley man who will reign the land?"

Kieran felt very unsettled by the guy's questions.

Before he could utter a word though, the guy with the mohawk waved his hand at him.

"It's fine, I don't need any explanations. I'm just a messenger. On the first of December, the Shepherd of Death will be awaiting your arrival!"

As he waved his hand up, a black invitation letter was thrown against the windshield of the truck. When it came into contact with the glass, it took a sharp detour and span inside the car, landing on the passenger seat next to Kieran.

The guy with the mohawk waved again and disappeared back into the darkness.