As she stepped into the black water, she felt that it was as viscous as honey and as hot as boiling tar. It hurt a lot, but for some reason, it felt as good as taking a very hot bath. She kept marching until she was waist-deep into the water, and she could already feel it seeping into her flesh and bones, burning away all impurities.
Like most mortals, she was already clean. This river's main job is to wash away any abominable influence or infection that might've tainted the soul, and to her luck, she had never met such a thing.
She kept moving until she sank fully to the bottom, and yet kept walking until she emerged on the other side of the river. She had already crossed to the other side; there was no coming back. In front of her, Death herself stood.
"Who shall speak for you?" Death asked, and the woman knew her answer.
