a/n: here's an update!! thank you for waiting :) it's just that my laptop is broken and we had to put it in diagnostic and the like whatever that was. fortunately, it's still working but it isn't like the one before so here i am, typing on a new laptop, which will hopefully last a few more years.
i'm not sure if this story is getting better or getting worse -- a little bit of both, i suppose. i'll try my best to keep your interests up. thank you, thank you so much for waiting!
/unedited.
-athena
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One of Thanatos's many jobs was to wait. And by wait it meant to oversee the declining life out of someone's body; it just happened that this one required much, much attention as this man's prayers had gone too far and too deep. This man was in his late thirties, asking forgiveness, begging for another chance in life. But that was the funny part: people always seemed to ask for more deals when they had nothing else left to offer – not their lives, no, because the life they used belonged to Death, even before they were born.
It was a predicted gamble.
"I see you," the man whispered throatily, reaching out to Thanatos who was sitting next to his death bed. "Please. I'm a sinful man and I haven't done anything to redeem myself for my children."
Thanatos didn't listen for there was only one sound he intended on listening to: the tick-tock. The thump, thump of this man's heart.
The man had at least one more whole day before his end.
"My daughter . . ." He coughed. "has a mental illness – schizophrenia. And depression gets the better of her and tonight's her eighteenth birthday. Please . . let me have a chance to talk to her. I haven't been a good father to her."
It was not unheard of for dying people to see Death. In fact, it was the most common occurrence in the history of history. Doctors would say that it was a side-effect for knowing your impending death. And maybe it was, a sign of doomed life, but in reality, Thanatos just had nothing to do. He simply wanted to wait with the dying person, hear the ticking sound of life die as the moments passed by. It reminded Thanatos of what he really was – just another empty god of death, the taker of souls, the harbinger of disaster. In his own twisted way, watching someone die slowly made him feel better. At least he wouldn't be the only one to be miserable, at least these people who were dying wouldn't get another chance to re-unite themselves with their so-called redemption. They didn't deserve any of that, not when Thanatos never had the chance to have a choice.
He was created this way, solely made for destruction and somehow, that killed him. It didn't bother him before, so why was he thinking about it now?
Was it because of his previous encounter with a woman? Or become of her? Was this how Lacy, the Death of Emotions, kill? Was Thanatos losing his touch?
He refused to believe that. Lacy might have just been messing with him, coaxing him to feel, when all he could feel was despair. However, when she appeared back then, his loneliness ebbed away, like the dark sea ahead had calmed down, letting its waves crash exquisitely against the shore, eating it up, consuming its goodness.
But the sea was a sea. An ocean was an ocean. No one could change that, no one could take away its power to drown everything.
And for the first time, he felt something different: Guilt.
How many souls had he taken? How many people had suffered? And most of all, was he really living? Was he really taking pleasure in being the god of death, when he, himself, wasn't part of anything at all?
He evaluated his deathly life and figured out that it was all a repetitive process. He would swing by in the mortal world and look for any other person worth watching of a reducing life and make himself better. Every day, it was the same thing for the last few years, centuries, eons, eras. Nothing ever changed that. Nothing . . .until her.
"Please," the man begged again, crying out. "I know who you are."
"And I know who you are," Thanatos replied.
"Please. Please, at least give me enough time for today. After that, I'm willing to go to hell. Please . . ." The man could barely speak but his voice was desperate, needy, pleading. "This is my one and only last chance to make it better for her. I'm willing to do anything."
To this, Thanatos couldn't help but smile a cruel smile. "You don't know what you're asking for."
Not even Lacy knew the consequences of extending or improving someone's life for a while. It was worse than death itself. It was eternal torture, trying to reprimand for one's mistakes a minute, an hour, a day, a week before the deathly end.
Thanatos could see that the man was rich, so rich he lived a lavish life – even the hospital he was in had a complete equipment of what he wanted, but not what he needed. His money saved his life for a while and yet in the end, he'd still meet his end.
All's fair in the eyes of death.
"I wasted my entire life. I left my family, I ran my own business, I participated in a black market and now I'm paying the price. I am willing to accept something worse than death just as long as I can make things better for my daughter. Please, she's all I have left." The man's eyes were so tired Thanatos could see himself reflecting in it. The healthy body he once had had deflated, leaving frail in its wake.
Thanatos's eyes, on the other hand, sparked with interest. "And what do I get?"
The man closed his eyes and whispered, "You can do whatever you want with my soul."
"Poor man, forgive me, but I do believe that everyone's souls are already mine to begin with. You have nothing else left to gamble with," Thanatos said wickedly, knowing all too-well that the man used to gamble everything he had just to live luxuriously on his own. And here he was, alone and dying.
Unlike Lacy, Thanatos was not in favor of making any deals or even extending anyone's lives. That would be against the Law of Deaths. Even Deaths had their own punishment, but what of Lacy? What kind of retribution did she get after extending lives?
"Fortunately for you, I am a kind death. I will grant you your final wish." Thanatos knew the repercussions, but considering Lacy was the kind of death who fed on people's emotions/feelings, there was a ninety-nine percent of chance she would be lingering around this man's daughter.
Thanatos might have been confused before, but no more. He wouldn't play right in her hands. It was about time he tracked her down and take back his heart. Lacy having a hold on his heart was doing strange things on him, things that was far too unthinkable, making him think that Death could feel, too.
"Thank you, thank you," the man said joyously, a big grin painting his face. "Tonight. It won't be long."
Thanatos shook his head and snapped his fingers, transporting them to the place where his daughter was supposedly having her eighteenth birthday party. As mundane as that was, Thanatos couldn't help but feel elated. How people were able to celebrate their birthdays . . . it felt too strange. Why would anyone celebrate a year older and a tick-tock closer to demise?
Still, it was a fancy celebration.
Banners hung around the arched ceilings with stained glass. At the center was a stage filled with fake greenery grass and red roses. People danced and swayed around in between the starry coverlets draped on the pillars and walls. Everyone seemed to be in a merry mood as they took everything for granted – the fine dining they were having probably came from another country, best made with an aromatic essence and tea leaves. The man's daughter had the spotlight focus on her, smiling as another man twirled her around. To Thanatos, he could see that the girl was happy, and putting a father she must have hated for so long must ruin her party.
The man wept silent tears, seeing his daughter standing so perfect and so filled with happiness and dreams he couldn't help but feel proud of her.
"Your daughter will outlive you," Thanatos whispered, seeing that the girl would have a healthy and successful life ahead of her.
The man smiled. "She already had."
Thanatos left the man alone to give him a moment, finally getting back to business. He had some things to do, after all. And Lacy was his priority, as well as Aphrodite, but he lost his chance trying to find that love goddess.
Unconsciously, he stood in the center of the festivity, looking around and all he saw were people moving their bodies in the beat of the music. They swarmed around him, as if he was also part of the merrymaking. Once, twice, thrice, he saw someone gaze at him, but that was just an illusion. No one could smile at him and be grateful for his presence.
It felt odd to be around these mortals, blending in when he didn't even have to. If they could all see him now, they would have run out to the door crying for their lives.
For the first time, again, he could breathe a different air. Lately, he was always either in a funeral or a hospital, not a party, never a gathering. And here he was, listening to their screams and yells, their explosive happiness almost beaming at him to come to the light and try.
Just then, someone took his hands and placed it on a waist – her waist.
Her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and swayed slowly to the music. It was uncanny of her to dance in a slow music when the music was anything but that. Mortals were rushing the dance, while they stayed settled for that slowness.
"You're here," he murmured; her touch, her eyes, her smile undoing him.
She smiled at him. "I'm here."
Then Thanatos realized what he was doing. He pulled away and dropped his hands. "I want my heart back." His eyes were on fire again, but it wasn't a threat, it was a promise of danger of getting too close to her.
Like a siren, she came close to him and pressed her index finger against his lips. "Shh. . ."
Lacy took his hands and then made him dance wildly with her. She forced him to swing her around and catch her when she almost fell. All the time, Thanatos was quiet, not sure what to make of it.
Suddenly, they were the having the wildest dance of all. If anyone could see them, they would have rated them as the best, the winner of the dance.
Thanatos leaned in to her and felt her cheeks against his as she whispered, "Let's have a deal."
"No. I want it back. Now."
"It's either that or nothing at all, Thanatos." She traced his jaw and felt it clench. "You're beautiful."
"It's just a face," he said, mocking her. "And it's from Aphrodite."
"Not your face, silly," she laughed out loud, pinching his cheeks. "You. Your existence is beautiful."
"How could death be beautiful?"
"Death is just as lonely as everyone else; death has no choice but to destroy, envies life so much he takes away lives," Lacy said it as a matter-of-fact, as if she had known him her entire life, as if she could see him as more than death, as more than life.
"Or she," he corrected her.
Lacy's silver hair gleamed under the light, making her the focus of his vision. "You know what's really beautiful about death? It defies life. Everything that used to hurt . . . suddenly disappears."
Sadly, it wasn't the truth. Thanatos delivered souls down, down in the pits of what they refer to as hell and the afterlife wasn't that much better.
"Death's beautiful to you because you're half-life and half-death."
Lacy walked in around in that red glittering dress, looking less and less like the death she originally was. "Thanatos, spend some time with me."
He couldn't help but laugh at her as if she was joking.
She stared at him, her eyes strong and serious; an ocean of depth.
"What do I get from it?"
"Your heart."
"And what do you get from it?"
She bit her lower lip and whispered, "You."