ατ τhε ṿεɾÿ lεαṡτ, ï ώαṉτ τø ḋø εṿεɾÿτhïṉģ ï сøυlḋ
ƒøɾ τhατ сhïlḋ вεсαυṡε ï—
јυṡτ сαṉ’τ ṡταṉḋ вεïṉģ ïḋlε ïṉ lαṃεṉτ.
Thanatos; defined: The God of Death.
She find it odd of how content she felt, post death.
After all of these years of lingering with the feelings of both anger and regret, she...for some reason felt content with what her Life held. She wished that destiny paved a different road for her, alas she was going to die one way or another. The phantom lady lingers within the familiar wood, within the familiar - yet abandoned home that she and her son once lived within happily.
The former wise woman blows away the cobwebs. For some reason, Therese attempts with her more improved ghostly abilities to fix up the place at least. A half broken broom now floats shakily within the air and wipes away some of the dust. In other areas, nature has invaded, rising slowly from beneath the wooden floorboard or from behind certain cabinets.
She picks up a old candleholder and conjures a flame to light up the place at least. If she were to warm the room with the fire place now, she'd be certain she'd burn the home down because of all the rotten floorboards and just...the wood in general.
Just after Therese conjures a flame, she hears-- oddly enough, a light knock from the old creaky door that is opened a bit ajar.
Her blue eyes then find themselves on said door; her lips purse together yet soon open to speak with her airy voice.
"--Hello?"
