The Gorgon slithered through the necropolis, the snakes on her head tasting the air. She was hunting heroes, hoping to add to her garden of statues. She saw a figure standing by the river Styx (or perhaps the Sanzu; death rivers all look alike). He wore black robes and a tall gat hat.
"Look at me," she hissed, preparing her Petrifying Gaze.
Gangrim Doryeong, the leader of the Korean Grim Reapers, turned. His eyes were not flesh; they were deep, dark pools of inevitability.
The Gorgon’s gaze washed over him. Nothing happened. You cannot turn a shadow to stone.
The Ledger
Gangrim sighed, pulling a thick book from his robe. Ledger of Passage. He licked his thumb and flipped the pages, ignoring the monster hissing in his face.
"Ah. Here you are," he muttered.
The Gorgon lunged, claws bared.
Gangrim didn't look up. He simply read her true name aloud.
Silken Mourner's Noose.
An invisible cord tightened around the Gorgon’s chest. It wasn't choking her breath; it was choking her soul. She gasped, freezing in mid-air.
"Time to go," Gangrim stated. He pulled. The Gorgon’s spirit was ripped cleanly from her body. Her physical form, now an empty husk, turned grey and crumbled into dust, while her bewildered soul was stuffed unceremoniously into the Reaper’s pouch.