Eros - Live for you

If I took 666 lives, I would be granted the life I lost. I will be able to return to the human world.

This was the deal I made with the devil in hell. With it, I became Death.

There was a man who had long desired an end, yet his lover’s promise was the string that tied him to life. It held him back from taking that step towards death.

You left to the streets wearing a puffy jacket, carrying something in your pocket. The earbuds were a gesture telling me to keep out; I stupidly questioned why someone who has a death wish would listen to music on the way there.

I wish I had noticed it sooner, the recording you were listening to, why did you keep it hidden from me?

“Are you going to just leave like that?”

I asked so cluelessly.

“…”

“Won’t you at least say goodbye to your family or possessions?”

You turned around silently to look at your villa. Even then, I didn’t notice. I hadn’t the slightest doubt as you showed no resistance to leaving it behind.

“Do you really not have any family?”

“…Shut up.”

I was an idiot to even ask.

“I can see where your desire to die stems from now.”

More of an idiot not to realize the reason behind his harsh response.

Through the countless lives I took, having travelled through the eras of humanity, I learnt gravely that:

Ambition destroys and pollutes, and desire brings misery and pain.

More, and more, and more… an insatiable desire. It’s wanting the undesirable that brings a person to their end.

What more do humans lack in such a world of abundance?

Must one desire something so badly that should the wish not be fulfilled, death was a better mercy?

I swung my scythe around in boredom as I followed you, a couple years of practice was all it took to master its movements.

“…You said you’ve taken many lives. Do you ever regret?”

Death is a reminder to those who are alive, that life is to be cherished.

“They wanted death, I wanted life. It’s a fair exchange.”

666 deaths to live once more. You were the last person the devil assigned to me, I didn’t know the tricks fate played.

“Those that want death should give their life to those who want life.”

Humans sin, and sin ever proliferates.

Society’s expectation deludes one’s true life, the teaching that its highest goal should consist of chasing idols.

Morals make living seem wrong.

If there ever comes a point where all deeds were to be judged by a scale of right and wrong, death would bring complete liberation to all.

I didn’t know of his intention. Naively, I followed him to the place he promised.

My memories have grown vague from the long journey back to life, yet something told me of this familiar place as once a construction site.

It’s a condition of life: those who are objective are usually the most subjective people; those who think they know are usually the most ignorant.

He didn’t go too far.

No two realities are the same, we carry around organic prisms which select what we perceive.

The limited lens through which we see the world as mere existence—they’re lies. It’s the antithesis of the boundless truth; life’s joke.

A broken ledge known in the legends, many couples have died here. It was a place where people came to end it all.

—The ridge of life and death.

At some point, the distortion one sees becomes the norm.

And this is my distortion, as one of hell’s Grim Reaper.

The liberator of lives, the granter of death.

I could see the cursed negative energy near the edge of the cliff that drew people in. It called out to him, like a serenade.

The evening sky slightly clouded, the orange glow drawing a solemn end to the moment. I remember promising that if I ever got out of hell, I would frame this scene to tell you I finally made it back to see you.

“You said that if I don’t die, you’ll lose your streak, and be forever trapped in hell, correct?”

He asked.

Should he choose to live, I would forever lose this opportunity. However, there was no need to be impatient, the devil’s choice of victims always dies in the end.

You were the man whose face was shrouded in shadow, a veil to protect the owner’s identity; in that I never have to remember the faces of those that die.

“The moment you met me, there’s no turning back.”

You recognized who I was, that’s why you were so willing.

Between you and death was but a few steps.

“…this is my punishment. I’ll atone for you.”

It’s when things are futile that one chooses death.

The contract I signed with the devil. The decades of effort. The many lives I ended. Death’s role I took…

My arrival marked the end of his life.

“Sorry.”

…My desire to meet you alive again was all futile to begin with.

To him, my life was more important.

My vision blurred, feeling the tears running down my cheeks.

He willingly gave it up for me.

I ran out to reach him.

Death caught him.

—Eros

(Now go read <Thanatos>! Then tell me which of the two you like best in the comments below!)