The face of disease of gruesome and vile. Though it wasn't visible to mortal eyes, Death could see the puss covered, rotting form of the inner demon. He almost seemed offended as it overtook the girl and filled the room with it's dark presence. The girl was strong however, capable of repressing the beast mid sentence. Falling silent for a second, Death reached down and pinched the handle of the tea cup between his fingers, raising it to take a sip. "Oh, that must be terribly daunting." He rested the cup on the folded newspaper and folded his hands together once again. A frigid breeze fell over them, kissing the skin with a prickling sensation. "Bother..." Death muttered beneath his breath before his form began to flicker and fade. "The angel comes to take of thee, the pain, the shame, the suffering. For on the day you call to me, I come, I call, to reap of yee." Death rose his hand, slowly motioning his fingers through the air in front of Eliza. "Beware the day, the time to need, for Death shall come to purge, to free." Shadows rushed over Eliza as Death dissipated into an illusion. In his absence, only the one chair she sat in remained. The table and chair in which Death sat was gone, as if it had never been.