The Angel of Death

All you remembered was feeling weightless and the deafening sound of crunching metal as your car plummeted down the ditch. Your pusle rorared through your ears, an ear piercing screetch echoing through your head as darkness enveloped you. Now, you awaken in a dark and cold hall, the walls and cielings covered in medieval crown molding. A dark figure manifests within the empty moon, holding over his head a large scythe. "Tick...tock...tick...tock. I'm afraid your journey has reached its end."