Moonlight streaked through the leaves of the trees surrounding the small burrow where theystood. One with a look of horror permanently etched into his facial features, his mouth cemented into a silent, dead scream. The other wept at his knees. The starless sky had turned black as ink, but the moon still managed to cast several thin, blue rays of light upon her shaking body. It had happened so fast. It had taken only a second for the kind, warm laugh of the man to turn cold, and his skin hard and lifeless with it.

It wasn't fair, Medusa thought. It just wasn't fair. She cursed the goddess Athena for doing this to her. For forcing her to play this never-ending game, knowing that she could never win – for turning her into...This. Now she would never find love, never have a future with someone – anyone – albeit short and sweet.

She sobbed next to statue of a kind stranger that had been taken too soon from the world. She cried for him, and she cried for herself too, knowing that she was a hopeless case. She cried until her sorrow turned to anger. Medusa then lifted her head and stared at the moon for a moment – the moon who had been her only friend in eons past, who was staring down at her as if it was mocking her– and anger filled her skull, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed by an unforgiving force. Nevertheless, she stood up and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She wasn't going to let this happen again. She needed to end it. She needed to end it now.

She looked back at the man once more, saying a silent, final, goodbye, knowing that he would never be able to hear the words leave her lips. Then, without another second of hesitation, she turned and fled the scene, still feeling her tears prickle down her cheeks. She wanted to escape. She needed to. She knew what she had done, but she didn't want to stare into the mocking face of the moon either, the one who had always been there for her, who had watched her fail time and time again.

It was time to end it once and for all. No more pain and suffering from her part. Everyone she had ever crossed paths with, had looked into her eyes and turned to stone. Mu If she looked into her own eyes... It just might work the same way for her.

She moved, trees going by so fast it was almost just a blur of green, until she came across a clearing in the woods, where a lake shined somberly in the blue light of the moon. She came to a stop, looking around cautiously, stepped off the muddy path and onto the soft, damp grass. A sense of sad serenity came upon her, and she breathed a sigh before taking another step.

Slowly and surely, she walked towards the lake shore and knelt next to the water. She took another breath, closing her eyes and allowing the breeze to tickle her cold skin. Medusa looked at the moon once more. Though it had been mocking her only moments earlier, she still found herself looking up as if asking for permission, and receiving it. Her lips curled into a soft smile, and she leant forward until her reflection was in sight and met the gaze of her watery double. She held her breath, waiting for her flesh to turn hard and cold.

Nothing happened.

After another second, she hissed angrily and swatted at the reflection, momentarily rendering it into a splash of ripples and bubbles, but then it settled, and she was left staring at her own frustrated, serpent-like face. How could she be so stupid? A reflection wasn't anywhere close to being the real thing. If anything, she could consider it a shadow or a ghost – unable to touch, unable to hurt. It was just there. A shadow would never be able to change someone's fate.

Something inside her snapped. She brought her hands up to her face and wailed, "I cannot do this anymore!"

"Now, now, darling, what's this?" said a voice behind her. Medusa started, spinning around, forgetting the fate of those who met her true gaze. Nevertheless, the figure behind her stood, his face hooded in dark robes and his skeletal hands wrapping firmly around his scythe.

"It's not every day I come across a woman of your nature and see her weeping for mortality."

Medusa turned back to the water. "Kill me, why don't you?! I cannot do this anymore," she repeated. "If I can't have love in this life, perhaps I have a better chance in the next."

The Grim Reaper, though he couldn't really smile, still managed to look kind. "Well, my Lady-"

Medusa scoffed and blushed, and the Grim Reaper stopped.

"Have I said something to make you uncomfortable?"

"No, it's just," she blushed even further and timidly swept a small serpent behind her ear before answering bitterly. "No one has called me that in a long, long time, and, it's just... nice not to be seen as a monster."

"You are not a monster, my Lady. It is not your fault that death is in your nature. In fact, in that way, we share a fate."

Medusa looked back at him with a sad smile. "How do you mean?"

"Everything that I touch will surely meet their death. Everything that meets your eyes turns to ash and stone. Perhaps it is our fate to dance with Death until it rips us to shreds."

Medusa looked up at him once more, her eyes shining with tears. "Will you dance with me?"

The Grim Reaper rested his scythe against a nearby stone and held his hand out to her. "Of course, darling."

"But surely you will turn to stone!" She cried, dread filling up every inch of her body. "Don't you see? You've looked into my eyes!"

"Tell me, Medusa, does it matter that I've looked into your eyes if you have already been touched by Death itself? Surely not. In this way, we share a fate. Will you accept yours as I have accepted mine?"

The serpentine woman nodded silently, smiling, and intertwined her fingers with his, allowing him to help her up. He let her arm rest on his shoulder and rested his own onto her waist. They moved as one, dancing in the moonlight like there was no tomorrow, because they were both aware of what was coming, and both were prepared to greet Death like an old friend.

Medusa could feel the Grim Reaper's movement becoming more and more stiff, and she could feel her own skin beginning to tighten, as if cement had been poured into her veins, but she didn't care. Nobody ever said that Death was hasty – It would allow them to have this moment.

Finally, as the moon began to sink into the horizon and the sun began to pour its hues into the sky, the two of them stopped.

Their figures had turned gray and cold and hard, but it didn't matter, because they were in each other's arms, and they looked like they were having the time of their lives, if for the very first and last time.