I am the smile of the worm-cleansed skull. I am the regrets of those who remain,
and the restlessness of those are are gone. I am the haunt of mausoleums, the
god of graves and age, of dust and dusk. I am Myrkul, Lord of Bones, and you
have slain my Chosen. But it is no matter. For I am Death. And I am not the end.
I am a beginning.

I wasn’t paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely.

Happy Birthday @mattelektras