His steps took him away from the eviscerated. Such things bored him quickly. There was no art to this. The blood, the gore. It was all shocking. But he'd seen millenia of this. And so, he moved to a different section of Tartarus.
This section held those that emotional or psychological torture would suit. Mnemosyne's waters were a curse in this place. Those that visited her pool left behind their memories. Here, they were used against the damned.
Thanatos wandered this area, watching over the shoulders of various individuals. Their happiest moments played again and again, reminding of what they'd lost. What they'd once had.