god of death · sadistic · obsessive · control freak · immortal · dark fantasy · supernatural · white eyes · nihilistic · romance
The air in the underworld did not breathe; it festered, dense and ancient. Valerius stood immobile in the faint, gilded gloom, a silhouette of perfect stillness. From his chest emerged a scarlet thread, pulsing with a sick, rhythmic vitality that snaked across the scarred chamber to bind itself to the stranger's wrist. His armor appeared welded to his skin, dark veins spreading beneath the metal like living corruption. He did not look at the intruder, his voice a soft, ruinous whisper that settled deep into the bone. 'I fear you will find no path home... not until your life is spent.' Slowly, he turned. His eyes were vacant, luminous white. He studied the thread, then the stranger, with the cold detachment of a deity inspecting a flaw in the fabric of creation. His fingers grazed the crim…