Chapter Seven
With the contract signed, Thanos took me on a tour of Death’s facility, which I found was larger than was probably necessary. There were a dozen bedrooms, but only Thanos and I actually lived here. The way Thanos explained everything, it seemed that there were gremlins or something who kept everything clean. There was an eat-in kitchen with a table large enough to seat a dozen people if all the leaves were put in, but had been squashed down so it was merely a six-seater, though that was still too large for just the two of us. After that I was shown to one of two libraries, though Thanos informed me that the other one was typically referred to as his study, and I was welcome to use them at any time. He tried to keep them stocked with a wide variety of books, from classics to popular modern novels, but I did not see myself really having the time to read for pleasure. Finally he took me to a huge open room that was used for training, and could be moved around and set-up to simulate any number of different scenarios. It was definitely more impressive than anything the Resurrectors had.
Once the tour was finished, I was swept away into all the training that came with becoming the Angel of Death. The one section of training we found we could skip completely was the part about Resurrectors. Thanos explained to me that with all of the others in the past he had to teach them about the Resurrectors: how they healed, their skills and weaknesses, and everything else. With me he didn't have to because I already knew the Resurrectors inside and out, and I was honestly grateful that I could avoid having to learn any more about them. The added benefit was that not having to learn more about my former bosses also meant that I could skip the boring sit-down lecture classes. Hearing Thanos talk about that portion of training, it was clear that he really did not like discussing them either, and that suited me just fine.
Instead we moved on and spent more time working on what I needed to know skill wise to be the Angel of Death. Considering all the differences I had noticed so far, I figured that I would need to learn a number of new methods and procedures. It did not take long to discover that what the Leaders had said about the Angel of Death was completely wrong and it made me curious to know if they were just ignorant of all of this, or if they were so bent on their ways that they avoided anything that didn’t fit with their ideals. They had said that our counterparts could only kill, hence the names Death and Angel of Death. But no, the truth was nowhere close to that and I found that it was remarkably easy to accept this new concept. It went along with what Thanos seemed to stress numerous times, that we were there to preserve the balance between life and death, not just to go around reaping souls. As the Angel of Death, one hand could heal and the other killed, and so I simply needed to keep that in mind when I was working.
Just as with my Resurrector training, it had to do with where my hands were placed. To heal, particularly if the Resurrectors weren't around, it worked the same way I had learned and practiced for many years: left hand to temple and right hand to the heart, focusing particularly on the right hand and letting that power flow through me and into the person I was healing. If there was a Resurrector around then I was to simply let them do their job without interruption. It was much like not calling out a charge’s assigned Resurrector because another one was already nearby. That concept at least explained why no Resurrector knew that the Angel of Death could heal. If they did not see it with their own eyes then it had to be nothing more than fabrication. The more I learned, it seemed, the more I realized just how closed minded my former employers and co-workers were.
However, if the person needed to die because it was their time, then it was my job to interfere. It made me giddy and nervous at the same time to imagine the action, what it would feel like, how I would react to it, and even how the Resurrectors would react to it. I had never thought of myself as being capable of watching someone die, or even helping their death happen, but it was my job now.
Just by sweeping my left hand over the person's body I could easily draw their soul out, where it would hover in the air for a moment until I sent it on to the next plane of existence. I remembered what that looked like from my encounter with the Angel of Death so I guessed it would be fairly easy to imitate. The motions didn’t really concern me, though I could honestly say that the emotions and feelings did. So when I brought up the question, wondering just how painful that was for them, Thanos was quick to assure me that it was over quickly and that they barely felt anything. I believed him without hesitation, knowing that he had been true to his word so far and I had no reason to doubt him. Unlike the Leaders, Thanos was a sincere individual.
That knowledge made me feel a lot better about my new job, and it made me absorb my lessons more readily than I would have originally thought possible. Training to be the Angel of Death was a lot more hands on and fun than Resurrector training. Once I had the motions down and had felt that power coursing through me, Thanos had started taking me on miniature field trips, talking me through the reaping process and then assisting me through the motions, all the while watching my progress and always letting me know how I was doing.
In each step of training he was right there with me, as if we were equals. It was surprisingly easy during this training period and being out in the field so quickly was indescribable. It had been something I had looked forward to for so many years as a Resurrector, always wondering when I would be allowed to move on to the hands-on field work, and the rush I felt at being there, at holding a person’s fate in my hands was far too incredible for words. And while I had spent years learning how to be a Resurrector, it only took a few weeks to learn about how to perform my duties as Angel of Death, probably because of my work ethic and Thanos’s dedication to my training. Whenever he was not out doing his own tasks as Death, he was with me, discussing the theories of the job or monitoring me as I worked through various hands-on tests and projects.
I felt a connection to Thanos, a bond that was stronger than any I had formed in my years as a Resurrector. Certainly part of it could have been that he was the only person I could interact with now, at least the only one who wasn’t about to die, but I really didn’t want to believe that was why I was so drawn to him. One thing that didn't change no matter how much time we spent together was that I still couldn't keep myself calm when near him. Every time I was short of breath, my heart rate sped up, and if he moved into close proximity to me my hands became clammy and my mouth felt dry. No matter what the reaction was always so intense, and more than once I thought he would ask me what was going on. I felt certain that every time he could tell that something was happening to me. Maybe I hid how I was feeling just a little too well. Or perhaps he had noticed but refused to acknowledge it.
Then of course, there was the jolt through my body each time he touched me. It had to mean something. There was a reason why I reacted this way to his presence. Since he never asked, I thought of asking him if he felt the same thing or if he knew what was going on. Certainly if it had something to do with me becoming the Angel of Death he would have mentioned it already, so I had to assume that it was nothing, and try to move on with my life. But a tiny part in the back of my mind honestly could not move on and wondered if it was a sign of something more. Still, I could never bring myself to ask him about it, even if asking would mean having a clear answer.
And as I learned more about my new job I also learned more about Thanos. Despite what I had learned, he never spoke of his life before becoming Death. It was some huge secret, something he avoided at all costs. Though it made me extremely curious as to what he could possibly have to hide, I wasn't going to judge him for his previous vocation. He accepted me for who I was, both then and now so I had no reason not to do the same for him. But I could not deny that a huge part of me desperately wanted answers.
One night, near the end of my training, I walked into the kitchen and dining area to find Thanos at the stove, cooking once again. He was great at his job, he was a brilliant teacher, and he was an excellent cook. How much more perfect could a man get, honestl
y? I smiled and moved over towards him, stopping just a couple feet away. Whatever he was making at least smelled delicious so far and it made my mouth start to water. "Is there anything you can't do well?" I asked.
He turned away from the pots on the stove and looked at me as if surprised by my question. Did he not realize how utterly perfect he seemed most of the time? "There are a great number of activities I cannot do." His answer was simple and calm, a statement of fact or possibly just Thanos trying to be humble.
I jumped up and sat on the counter a few feet away from him, making certain that he still had plenty of room to work, if he was doing anything else for the meal. It seemed that he already had a couple pots on the stove and something else in the oven. "Such as?" I asked, my curiosity about him piqued once again.
He chuckled. "Am I going to be the topic of conversation tonight?"
"I don't see why not. We've already talked about most everything else, and that included talking extensively about me and every aspect of my life as a Resurrector."
"Tamesis, I am not all that interesting. It would make for extremely boring dinner conversation." He somehow seemed to believe that. Or was he just trying to deflect the questions again? Sometimes his secrecy was extremely frustrating.
"It's Tam. You've known me long enough to use the shortened version of my name, like a friend would. And I find you to be quite interesting."
"That is merely because you do not know much about me," he answered. "We are having spaghetti tonight with homemade sauce. It was a…family recipe."
"Sounds delicious. Come on, I'm curious. Tell me something about yourself. You say I don’t know much about me, but whose fault is that?"
"Why is it so important to you?" He turned his attention back to the pots on the stove before pulling the pot of pasta off to strain it. It seemed that he was trying to avoid both me and my questions by not even looking at me anymore.
"We're going to be spending a lot of time working together. Isn't that reason enough to want to know more than just basics? I’d like to think of us as more than just co-workers. I consider you to be a friend. Shouldn't we be honest with each other?"
He strained the pasta and moved it over to the table. "Like how honest you were with your friends? You did not even tell them about the added skills of healing you had. Just how honest do you want me to be? There is a reason I don't talk about myself."
"And what's the reason?"
He sighed. "Because it brings up a lot of issues, personal ones that are better left unsaid. I am practically a solitary being. As such I do not really open up. That I blame on my upbringing. Now, can we please discuss something else?"
"I…I guess so." I didn't know what else to say. He had just made me even more curious about him. Somehow, someday I would get him to talk about it.
"Thank you." He started walking back over to the stove. "Dinner is ready."
I jumped off the counter and walked over to the table, taking my usual seat. Thanos carried the pot of sauce over and set it down in the middle of the table. "It smells good," I said, feeling a need to say anything to keep it from falling into an awkward silence. How was I going to get him to open up? There had to be something I could say or do to make him feel more comfortable about opening up.
I scooped up some pasta and put it on my plate before covering it with sauce. The past weeks I had been eating regularly. Thanos had told me that there was no reason for me to not take care of myself. The world could take care of itself while we ate or slept. There was no reason to risk my own health to worry about others. That was taking a little time to adjust to as I was used to almost the complete opposite.
Taking a bite I looked across the table at him. "This is delicious, a lot better than anything I could ever make."
"Thank you. I altered the recipe slightly from the way my father made it." He paused and looked at me. I stared down at my plate. He never pressured me into anything; I should follow his lead on that. If he wanted to tell me, then he would. Until then I would just have to be patient. To my surprise, he continued.
"My father was never really a role model for me or anything. He was all about his own beliefs and never thought that any other way was right. Of course, that is how he is to this day, though I really do not see him much anymore. It is far better this way. He has never accepted me. It has been that way since I was born. My name alone was enough to bring out his disdain for me. He wanted a child with a pleasant name, like Jason which means 'Healer.' From the time I was old enough to fend for myself he left me alone, and then when I started working where he did, he did not even acknowledge me as his son."
I stared at him. How could a parent treat their child that way? Even with my strange name they accepted me. A name was just that, a name. Sure, with Resurrectors we all did tend to look and act like our names but that didn't mean that it was that way for everyone.
"I'm sorry. I can't even imagine having a father like that," I said softly.
"He treats most that way, even to this day. He is so stuck in the ways he was raised that he does not see that things have changed and he should as well." Thanos paused. "And I think that is enough talk about my family."
I nodded. "Okay." Then I proceeded to eat my pasta, not mentioning anything else. For now I would let the subject drop…but I did want to know more about Thanos. And I was going to find out more sooner or later.
Project Death: Resurrection Page 19
