Daz Wishes you a Happy Halloween from Outer Darkness

Forget the carved pumpkins and heap paper ghosts. Tonight, the veil grows thin enough to catch a glimpse of the real thing—and the real thing smells like expensive tobacco and eternal torment.

Out beyond the edges of the mortal realm where starlight dies in the suffocating pitch of the dark, an ember flares crimson.

Daz leans back into the nothingness, taking a slow, measured draw from a thick, hand-rolled cigar. As he exhales, the gray smoke coils and weaves through an endless sea of the dearly departed. A myriad of souls swim like schools of krill, pressing around him, whispering forgotten names, final regrets, unfinished oaths. They drift in the currents of his exhale, drawn to the only warmth left in the void: Daz’s cigar.

The God of Death doesn’t do scythes, and he certainly doesn’t do rattling chains. He simply watches the living worlds burn through their fleeting seasons, rolling the ash between his fingers, waiting. After all, every trick, every treat, and every spilled drop of blood in the Bane War eventually finds its way to his doorstep.

Lock your doors tonight if it helps you sleep. Light your lanterns against the dark. Just remember: when the candle finally gutters out, Daz waits in the smoke.

What are you reading in the dark tonight? Drop your favorite grimdark and dark fantasy or dark romantasy reads in the comments below.

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