The clay walls of the old hut pressed in on her, hairline cracks lining the sun-harrowed mud. Dark tendrils curled about her face like smoke, shadows alive as the danced ever closer, but they waited, waited for the raven-haired man's command. The man, creature, was painful in his beauty, obsidian eyes hooded with apathy as his outstretched hand guided the whipping midnight. The woman coughed amid the thinning air, breath escaping her blue-tinged lips and hanging in a silvery cloud before her. Through her agony, she slid her eyes around this home, this heavens forsaken excuse for a life, and decided that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to die. With crimson lining the edges of her vision, she stated plainly, "What do you have to live for, coward?"
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As he crept through the filth of the servants' streets, he heard their tense whispers, their disgust given shape. Son of Darkness, sent from the nameless God of Death to purge the world of its evils, condemning the people one by one to the Underworld with his soldiers of shadow. For centuries he wandered, the Earth his canvass upon which he painted his masterpiece of loss and grief. Coward. That woman's final word rose above the rest, latching itself in Thanatos' mind, turning bitter on his lips and in the colorless memory of his …show more content…
It was eternity and power, Thanatos a humble and broken slave to its will. He rose from where he sat, thin layer of dust swirling beneath his black cloak as he bent under the force of the creature which compelled him. Since Thanatos had been sent to this land, the Voice dwelled within him, slumbering, until one day it opened its all seeing eyes and woke. The roar which it made raced through the heavens and shook the earth, burning into Thanatos' ears, branding him, chaining him. Each day now it beckoned with the might of a god, forcing Thanatos to carry out its wishes, and each day now he killed, exiling the enemies of his master to the Underworld. This was his second secret, never wanting to kill. With every life he took, a piece of him withered until here he stood, empty shell of a man. A beast. Bringer of death. As the sun tracked its way above the horizon, the Voice dragged Thanatos through a world of gray, and together they rebuilt it until it was only this: seven lives reduced to memories, seven gashes on Thanatos' scarred heart, and an empty night shrouded in
As he crept through the filth of the servants' streets, he heard their tense whispers, their disgust given shape. Son of Darkness, sent from the nameless God of Death to purge the world of its evils, condemning the people one by one to the Underworld with his soldiers of shadow. For centuries he wandered, the Earth his canvass upon which he painted his masterpiece of loss and grief. Coward. That woman's final word rose above the rest, latching itself in Thanatos' mind, turning bitter on his lips and in the colorless memory of his …show more content…
It was eternity and power, Thanatos a humble and broken slave to its will. He rose from where he sat, thin layer of dust swirling beneath his black cloak as he bent under the force of the creature which compelled him. Since Thanatos had been sent to this land, the Voice dwelled within him, slumbering, until one day it opened its all seeing eyes and woke. The roar which it made raced through the heavens and shook the earth, burning into Thanatos' ears, branding him, chaining him. Each day now it beckoned with the might of a god, forcing Thanatos to carry out its wishes, and each day now he killed, exiling the enemies of his master to the Underworld. This was his second secret, never wanting to kill. With every life he took, a piece of him withered until here he stood, empty shell of a man. A beast. Bringer of death. As the sun tracked its way above the horizon, the Voice dragged Thanatos through a world of gray, and together they rebuilt it until it was only this: seven lives reduced to memories, seven gashes on Thanatos' scarred heart, and an empty night shrouded in