This is what I'm working on right now (Chapter 11 of Clarity):
Charon Asteri lay on the floor of his apartment, as he did every day, holding his scythe and dreaming. But today was different. In this dream, where usually he only heard garbled sounds, he was presented with words and images that were as sharp as the blade he held in his hands. Charon saw a boy with poorly cut, shaggy brown hair running through the streets of a slum. The veins in his legs breathed with him, pulsating as he stumbled into an abandoned shed. The boy was carrying a scythe that was almost twice his height, which he quickly hid behind the myriad boxes and tools in the shed's corner. His strength depleted, the boy slumped against a wall and attempted to settle his nerves. His eyes had closed halfway when he heard heavy footsteps approaching, causing him to sit up in fear. A group of about five men, some with their faces obscured by darkness, entered the shed.