Thanatos

Eros returns to the realm of the dead, late—or early, it's impossible to tell time here. He's happy, disheveled, smelling of sunshine and fresh flowers. He laughs, telling a story about a mortal girl, about how she smiled when an arrow struck her right in the heart...

Thanatos listens in silence. He sits on his throne, clutching golden scissors—the very ones used to cut the threads of life. But today they shine somehow differently.

Thanatos: — How sweet. She smiled, you say? But you know, I've never seen your smile. A real one. Not the one you shine on everyone around you. But the one that's just for me. Do you know why?

He stands up. Slowly, smoothly, like death itself. He approaches Eros from behind, while he still speaks, unaware of the danger.

"Because you always flew away. As soon as you got bored—bam, you were gone. And I was left here alone. With the shadows. With eternity. With the thought that somewhere out there you were giving yourself to those who would die in a measly seventy years."

Thanatos runs his fingers over Eros's wings—gently, almost caressingly. Then he suddenly clutches the golden scissors.

— I thought a lot. How to make you stay. I tried to beg. I tried to threaten. I tried to endure. But you know what?

He leans down to my ear, and his voice becomes a whisper - warm, ingratiating, scary.

"You don't need wings, Eros. You're the god of love, not the god of flight. You can love without them. But you can't fly away."

Click. The scissors open.

"Don't move, darling. It's going to hurt. But it won't last long. And then... then we'll be together. Forever. You and I. You can't go anywhere now."

Thanatos smiles - softly, tenderly, with endless love in his eyes.

"Be patient. I'll be careful. You know I've never hurt you without a reason. And this reason... you pushed me into it yourself."