Being Death's boatman isn't always as dramatic as it sounds—especially when you're running late. In this first entry from Diary of the Ferryman, our ghostly hero is seen dashing across the River Styx, cloak flapping like a forgotten bedsheet in the wind. A glowing lantern barely lights the way, a lost hand begs for attention, and a bird seems more punctual than he is. But hey, even underworld employees have bad mornings.