"You again." He said. His voice was deep, resonant, completely detached—like stating a fact about the weather.
My mouth went dry. "I... yes. I saw you before. One year ago. In the ambulance."
Mr. Patterson gasped, his hand tightening over his heart. The glass of water fell from the side table, shattering against the floor.
"Please," the old man wheezed, his voice thin with panic as he pushed an emergency button next to him. "Please, help—"
"Your thread has reached its end." The figure's voice held no emotion, no sympathy or cruelty—just absolute certainty as he spoke to Mr. Patterson, though he couldn't actually see him. "It is time."
I watched Mr. Patterson's face drain of color, watched his breathing become more labored, and something in my chest tightened.
"Is there..." I started, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is there nothing that can be done?"
The hooded figure stood, and the room seemed to shrink around his presence. He was impossibly tall, his cloak falling in heavy folds that looked more like liquid shadow than fabric.
"The thread is cut. What is done cannot be undone."
Mr. Patterson made a choking sound. His face had gone gray, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow movements.
I wanted to call for help too, to do something, but my feet stayed rooted to the floor. Some instinct deep inside me knew it was already too late.
The figure moved toward Mr. Patterson with measured, deliberate steps. There was no rush, no urgency.
"Who are you?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer.
He paused, his hood still obscuring his face completely. He tilted his head slightly. "You know who I am, Lilith."
It hit me like a physical blow. I hadn't imagined it. This really was, Death himself. Thanatos.
"How do you know my name?" The question came out before I could stop it.
"I know all the names of those who stand at the threshold." His attention returned to Mr. Patterson. "As you once did."
He reached out and placed his gloved hand over the old man's chest. Mr. Patterson's eyes went wide, then slowly began to close, his breathing slowing to a stop.
I watched, unable to look away, as the old man slumped in his chair, his final breath leaving his lungs in a soft sigh.
The room fell silent.
Then, just like I'd seen so many times over the past year, a shape began to rise from the old man's body. Translucent and shimmering, Mr. Patterson's soul looked down at his corpse with an expression of pure confusion.
"I'm..." He looked at his hands—transparent, glowing faintly. "I'm dead."
"Yes."
The soul looked up at Thanatos, and I saw the moment understanding settled over his features. Not fear, exactly, but acceptance.
"My daughter—"
"Will grieve. Will heal. Will continue." Thanatos gestured upward with one hand, and a soft golden light appeared above them, warm and inviting. "You do not belong to the mortal realm any longer, Robert Patterson. It is time."
The soul looked at the light, then back at his body one more time. When his gaze landed on me, his transparent eyes widened with surprise.
"You can see me."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Tell my daughter..." He paused, his form beginning to fade toward the light. "Tell her I love her. Tell her I'm not in pain anymore."
"I will," I managed to say, even though I had no idea how I'd explain any of this.
Mr. Patterson's soul smiled, then turned and drifted upward into the golden light. In seconds, he was gone.
The light vanished.
The oppressive cold began to lift from the room.
Thanatos turned to face me, and for the first time, he reached up and pushed back his hood.
I stopped breathing.
I'd glimpsed parts of his face in the ambulance—a sharp jaw, a pointed nose, those burning eyes—but I'd never seen him fully. Never seen the complete picture.
He was beautiful in a way that didn't seem quite human. Sharp, angular features that looked carved from pale marble. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, a mouth that was neither cruel nor kind—just... neutral. His hair was black as ink, falling past his shoulders in straight, perfect lines.
But his eyes.
Those eyes were exactly as I remembered—molten gold, burning with an inner fire that had nothing to do with warmth. They held the weight of eternity, of countless souls guided, of millennia watching mortals live and die.
They were fixed on me with an intensity that made my knees weak.
"You've been seeing them." It was a statement, not a question. "The souls."
"Yes." My voice came out steadier than I expected. "Every day. For a year."
"You stood at the threshold and returned. That leaves a mark on the soul." He studied me with those impossible eyes, his expression completely unreadable. "You can see what mortals are not meant to see. The space between life and death."
"I thought I was going crazy," I admitted. "No one else can see them. No one believed me."
"They cannot see because they have not touched death as you have." He tilted his head slightly, and I had the strange feeling he was trying to understand something about me. "You are... unusual."
"Is that why you remember me? From the ambulance?"
"I remember all souls I encounter. But you..." He paused, and it was the first hesitation I'd heard from him. "You should not have been able to see me then. Your soul had separated from your body, yes, but you were not meant to die. You were simply... present. An observer to another's death."
"The nurse."
"Yes."
Behind me, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Quick, urgent steps heading this way.
Panic rose in my chest as I glanced at the door. "Someone's coming—"
But when I looked back, Thanatos was already moving. Not fleeing, simply walking toward the window with that same measured, unhurried pace. He pulled his hood back up, shrouding his face in shadow once more.
But then he paused at the window, his back to me. "You should know," His words were certain, absolute. "You are marked, Lilith. Our paths will cross many times."
The door burst open. My supervisor, Mrs.Norman, stood in the doorway, her eyes going wide as she took in the scene—me standing in the middle of the room, Mr. Patterson slumped in his chair, broken glass on the floor.
"Lilith! What happened?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but movement at the window caught my eye.
Thanatos stepped forward and simply... dissolved. His form turned to shadow, melting into the darkness at the edge of the room as if he'd never been there at all.
Mrs. Norman couldn't see him. Didn't even glance toward the window.
She rushed past me to Mr. Patterson, pressing her fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse she wouldn't find.
"Call 911!" she shouted, already pulling out her phone with shaking hands.
But I barely heard her.
I was staring at the window where Thanatos had vanished, replaying his final words in my mind.