In all honesty, Henry is not sure what to expect when he pushes the door open to what Victor calls his laboratory. It's less a laboratory and more a shabby, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Ingolstadt, but it doesn't really matter. Victor seemed...half hysterical and half serious. He gets like that sometimes, but shoved the key into Henry's hand and told him to go see for himself. I cannot bear to look right now.

He unlocks the padlock keeping the door shut and slowly pushes it open, holding up a lantern so he's not stumbling in the dark towards whatever it is that Victor has created. "Hello?" he quietly calls out, shutting the doors behind him.

Percy Carrard had appeared almost out of nowhere, practically banging on the doors of the University of Ingolstadt, demanding to be allowed entry to the University. It would have been something of a joke if he had not proven himself with the various tests they gave him to try and drive him away. He had more than passed, he had surpassed almost all expectation.

And thus, he was admitted. He rented out an old apartment on the outskirts of town. It reeked of death and decay, but Percy hardly seemed to notice. Nor did he pay much mind to the people who whispered about how it was cursed, how the previous tenant had gone mad... None of that concerned Percy. The only thing he found interesting was an old journal he'd found tucked away in a closet.

That he had found very interesting indeed.

She'd died. Elizabeth is certain that she'd died. She remembers the searing pain, the creature cradling her face. She can vividly recall the heat of her tears and desperately wishing that she could stay there with him a little longer. Staying with someone who sees and understands her.

Elizabeth had died.

When his creation enters the lab, it is a sight indeed. Victor is bent over Elizabeth, his forehead pressed against hers, tears rolling down his face. No, he could not take it, could not stand it! She, dead, because of him! And it is because of him, him and his own cowardice. He brushes her hair out of her eyes, bloodied hands trembling. "Oh, Elizabeth. I am so sorry, I--"

He hiccups, then yelps when suddenly yanked up to face the creature. He stares at him with wide eyes, truly a terrible sight to behold. Victor looks like he hasn't slept in days, cheeks haggard and his face and hair smeared with Elizabeth's blood. His hands, shirt, all of him, stained with the sin of it. He knows what he has done, but he could not bear leaving her to the cold hand of death.

Thanatos regards the creature with something akin to curiosity. He has seen plenty of immortal beings over his long existence, but none quite like this. None where death does reach and almost take before being promptly pushed away. The being seems to be stitched together, but rather thoughtfully. This was not some haphazard attempt to bring a corpse to life, but something that someone put a lot of thought and effort behind.

Mankind looks for all kinds of ways to escape him. Most still end up coming to him in the end. He thinks of Sisyphus and grimaces before stepping a little closer. It is not typically his way to speak to those who have found him, but simply guide them to their end. When there is no end, they tend to linger in the aether before being pulled back into their consciousness.