"Incredible," Charlotte exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration as she approached Thanatos.
"I don't know how you do it, but that technique of yours is beyond impressive."
She tilted her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips.
"Though, if you keep this up, I'll start to think you're trying to show me up!"
Thanatos' gaze sharpened as he surveyed the seemingly lifeless body of the snake-like creature.
"Stay back," he warned Charlotte, his voice low and urgent. "It's not dead yet. I need a moment to finish this."
Charlotte's eyes widened. "But…how?" she asked, motioning towards the motionless body of their recent foe. "It looks dead to me."
Thanatos turned towards her, his skeletal form almost quivering with intensity.
"...Trust me, it's not as simple as it looks. Just…give me a moment." Thanatos' words were tinged with a seriousness that gave Charlotte pause.
She nodded, stepping away from the scene and letting Thanatos approach the still creature on his own.
Thanatos' hands shimmered with a growing energy, the magicules at the edge of his palm coalescing into a fierce, glinting blade.
With a swift stroke, he began to hack away at the snake's slithering form, each stroke more precise and brutal than the last.
The creature, trapped in Charlotte's magic, thrashed and writhed, its body convulsing in a primal scream that sent a chill through Charlotte's spine.
She stumbled backward, her body convulsing with a mixture of fear and revulsion.
Charlotte watched in horror as Thanatos' blade cut through the creature's form, its scales and flesh falling away in a flurry of blood and viscera.
The snake's screams echoed through the dungeon, the beast writhing and thrashing in a desperate attempt to escape its fate.
Thanatos, his face a mask of single-minded focus, continued to hack and slash until the creature's movements slowed, its body limp and lifeless.
Only then did he stop, his hand dripping with the creature's blood as he turned to face Charlotte.
"Disgusting," Charlotte exclaimed, eyeing the grisly scene in disgust. "How can you stand to be so close to that...thing?"
Thanatos, still standing over the creature's mangled body, glanced at her. "Step back, Charlotte," he said sternly. "The snake's blood is poisonous. It won't harm me, but you're not undead."
Charlotte's eyes widened. "But why aren't you affected? Isn't your body made of bones?"
"The advantages of being undead," Thanatos replied, his voice dripping with dark humor.
"Our bodies are resistant to toxins and other things that would normally harm the living."
Charlotte nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.
"I can see why being undead has so many advantages," she said, tilting her head as she considered the idea. "I never knew that before."
Thanatos glanced at Charlotte's awestruck face, his grim, humorless smile fading.
He thought to himself, 'She has no clue about the disadvantages of being undead. She sees only the positives.'
Indeed, being immune to toxins and harmful effects was a benefit of being undead, but it came with drawbacks that he knew all too well.
He could never sleep, never experience the blissful oblivion of slumber that Charlotte enjoyed at night, he was always alert, always watching in the darkness.
His appetite had vanished, taking away the simple pleasures of eating and drinking.
Thanatos struggled with all his senses—touch, taste, smell, sight.
Being undead dulled them all, transforming the world into a bleak, muted existence.
Sure, Charlotte might have considered these things superficial when compared to the benefits, but for Thanatos, it made all the difference.
The more he interacted with Charlotte, the more he realized how much he was forgetting about his former life as a human.
The memories were fading, slipping further away with each passing day, like sand through his skeletal fingers.
Thanatos' thoughts drifted to the past, the memories of his humanity slowly eroding away.
The sense of loss was palpable, but he brushed it aside with a grim chuckle.
'Is losing my humanity a good thing?' he wondered, but decided against sharing this thought with Charlotte.
"Yeah, it's pretty good," he said in response, trying to sound casual and nonchalant.
"Can't complain too much when you're immortal, eh?" He forced a smirk and looked away, hoping to disguise the turmoil churning within him.
Thanatos turned his attention back to the fallen creature, his blade of energy fading away as he stared at the bloody mess.
"There's still some use to be had from this thing," he remarked, kneeling down to examine the corpse.
"The venom can be extracted from its blood. It'll make a useful tool for our journey."
He glanced at Charlotte and nodded toward the creature's body.
"You can help me concentrate the venom. You've got that spell that slows the movement of liquids, don't you?"
Charlotte nodded, her face a mixture of curiosity and concern.
****
Later that night.
In the hushed darkness of the night, Charlotte slept soundly, her breathing steady and rhythmic.
Thanatos, ever vigilant, remained watchful and alert. But even he couldn't help but grin when he heard her sleep-talk, a soft mumble coming from her lips.
"Be quiet class. We're supposed to be studying," she muttered, her voice slurred with sleep.
Thanatos let out a quiet, almost imperceptible chuckle.
That was so like Charlotte, the teacher he created who had been plucked from her classroom and dropped into this dungeon
The sound of Charlotte's murmured words jostled something loose in Thanatos' mind. A memory—no, a plot point—surfaced.
The memory resurfaced like a forgotten echo in Thanatos' mind.
"She was the main character's teacher when he began his academy arc," he whispered, his bony fingers flexing and unflexing as he considered this new revelation.
He recalled the part of the story when the main character had just started attending school—and that was when Charlotte had left on her fateful dungeon expedition.
If Thanatos could get Charlotte back to the academy, perhaps the story would unfold as it was meant to, and all would be set right, he wouldn't alter the timeline too much.
'Why am I here?' Thanatos wondered, his skeletal form exuding a quiet intensity as he stared into the darkness.
'What is my purpose? The reader must know the answer to this question.'
As he pondered this, a possibility flitted across his mind—a hope, a tiny flicker of hope in the darkness.
Perhaps, when he managed to put the story back on track and set everything in motion as it was meant to be, and possibly completed the story, he would finally be able to return to his world, to the place where he once belonged.