Cupids Essence

by J Thompson

  “What the hell?” she cried and dived out of the way, her boots slipping on the wet grass and sending her to the floor. The air shot from her lungs and pain shot up her knees as they connected with the earth. Yes, it was damp, but the floor was almost like concrete from the recent freezing weather.

  What a disaster of an evening, and she had never even met up with Mike. That probably disappointed her the most. She had been so excited about the date, well, that along with the nerves. Yes, she had been early but even after the brawl had started she still hadn’t seen him, and he had been late then.

  “That’s it, I’ve had enough of tonight. I’m going home.”

  She growled into the darkness and pushed to her feet, her jeans were damp, her knees hurt and her hands now sported some cracking scratches. But it was nothing a hot bath and her bed wouldn't solve.

  “Ahh Belinda, here you are,” the familiar voice called out from the dark, before a lone figure stepped out of the shadows from the side of the building. There was little light with the garden not being used, so all she could see was a shadow.

  “Who’s there?” she called out and wiped her hands down her jeans as she peered into the shadows.

  After a moment of silence, she watched Clint step into the light. She couldn’t forget his face or name, especially after the way he had spoken to her in the library earlier that day. A shiver creeped up her spine as he approached, a strange smile on his face. He looked familiar but also looked strange. Belinda didn’t know if it was her imagination, but his eyes seemed to glow.

  “Why are you out here all alone Belinda?” The way he said her name gave her the creeps and she couldn't help the involuntary step back. “I thought you would be enjoying the attention in the bar, all those men flocking to you.”

  His eyes weren’t the only thing that seemed creepy, his voice seemed to vibrate and echo with a secondary tone, it was if there were two voices in one. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you have the Essence?”

  Belinda frowned, no one knew about the Essence. So how did Clint?

  “Excuse me?” she replied. She was going to act dumb. She didn’t know what he wanted with the Essence but she had a feeling it wasn’t good, so keeping shtum about it would be the best course of action. This time, though, she stood her ground when he stepped closer, but she felt a trickle of fear seep into her thin courage.

  “The Essence, Belinda dear, you no longer need it. I don’t think whoring yourself out will be hard, especially with an arse like yours.”

  Belinda was stunned at the blatant rudeness of a man she had only met the once. Letting instinct take over, her hand shot out and connected with his cheek as hard as she could. Her hand instantly started to sting but she didn’t care. She was no whore and for him to state it was rude and disrespectful.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I am no whore. I’m leaving.” Belinda turned to walk past and only got a foot if that before Clint’s hand shot out and caught her across the cheek.

  Before she was able to react, his hand once again shot out and grabbed her by the throat. She clawed at the flesh in an attempt for him to release her but instead, he turned them both and walked her back to the rear wall of the building, slamming her back into the brick.

  Belinda was no delicate flower and knew her weight wasn’t slight, so when her feet left the ground she knew she was in trouble. His fingers dug into the skin of her neck and would leave clear, bright marks if he ever released her. Instead, he leaned forward and growled in a voice that was no longer Clint’s but something else entirely.

  “Stupid mortal, you dare mess with a god. Your death will not be quick and you will tell me where the Essence is. I know you have it, your aura reeks of Cupid’s handy work.”

  Clint smiled and then sniffed, “Yes, Cupid and another male have got their grips on you Belinda.”

  Belinda started to struggle, although the ability to breathe was becoming harder and harder each second. Clint squeezed harder as he slammed her head back into the bricks and caused stars to erupt behind her eyes. As darkness started to impede on her vision, she heard his words.

  “Know this, mortal; you will fear me, then you will die.”

  Aphrodite lounged in her temple and flicked through her shiny new phone that she had finally been taught how to use. She was still slow, but she was sure it wouldn’t take her long, especially if everyone left her alone to play.

  It seemed to be the day where every being on Olympus wanted her and she was supposed to be on holiday with the girls. The only reason she was back was because poor Psyche had looked especially stressed when she had left to check on her unruly husband and according to some, her apparent son. That was if you believed all that the mortal history books said, when in fact, it was about as incorrect as you could get.

  She shuddered at the thought of being the one to produce Cupid. Besides the fact he was created fully grown, she was careful when it came to the whole subject of children.

  Cupid’s existence had been purely by accident and was a product of a time when she was, you could say, stressed to the eyeballs. In the early days of being a Goddess, when Zeus had first taken charge, she had become overwhelmed with the world’s needs and prayers for love and had nearly drowned under the weight.

  Still new to her extended powers, she had tried to create something that would help her with the demand and as such, created Cupid. The problem was, as he learned and was unleashed on the world his helpfulness had reduced and he had become more and more like the Norse god, Loki. He was more intent on being personally involved in the mortal’s lives and had caused a great many disasters. The Helen of Troy situation and the Cleopatra one were classic examples. The situations would put them, as Hermes would say, “Up shit creak without a paddle”.

  So they had tried to stop him and that had not worked out well, he fought every attempt to bind his powers and it had taken the help of a mortal girl to stop him. As a thank you, and for the future control of Cupid, Psyche had been made immortal. She was Cupid’s match in every way and was now the only one capable of controlling him.

  How he had found her, Aphrodite didn’t know. But one minute he was placing love spells on horses and the next he was throwing gifts galore at a mortal woman. That right there had shown Aphrodite even the gods needed and craved true love. They felt just as much and as hard as mortals did, and it was now her job to make sure they got the chance. The rest was up to them.

  The phone vibrated in her hand and caused her to scream and drop it onto the cushions.

  “My lady, are you well?” A small nymph rushed into the room.

  “Yes, yes I am fine, these mortal toys are taking some getting used to.”

  The nymph nodded and bowed, ready to leave the room.

  “Don’t leave just yet, I may have need of you. Just let me figure out how to open this.”

  Aphrodite bit her lip in concentration as she managed to open the phone screen and read the text that had come through.

  * * *

  Aphrodite

  Cupid has fucked up...big style. I think I’m going to need some help with this one.

  He didn't have the balls to tell me, but he’s spoken to Apollo.

  Isn’t he in the underworld????

  Shit is going down in London, hon, hurry.

  Pxx

  * * *

  The goddess of love stood up in a rush and nearly fell back down as the blood rushed south and caused her to go dizzy.

  “My lady?” the nymph once again questioned.

  “I’m good, please hurry to Elyssia and inform Hades his presence is required.”

  “He isn’t there my lady.”

  “What? What do you mean he isn’t there?”

  “He left a note after you had left with the other goddess’” the nymph answered and handed over the hand written note.

  * * *

  Goddess, I have taken your advice and I have decided to visit the mortal realm and try to woo my i
ntended. Worry not for I will succeed.

  Hades.

  * * *

  “Ahh crap,” Aphrodite mumbled, her mind raced to form a plan of action.

  “Ok, please fetch Hermes and inform him he is to fetch Hades from his date and bring him to…” Aphrodite looked at her phone, “London, bring him to London and if he argues, inform him his charge seems to have found a way to get out.”

  Aphrodite watched as the nymph hurried away with her message. If Psyche was right, along with Cupid, then things would have to change soon. That god had been left unpunished for too long and something would need to be done before it was too late.

  Mike was late, really late, but it was something he was unable to avoid. His friend, Gary, had decided to rock up and wouldn't leave and then wouldn’t shut up. Mike then had to admit that he had a date, but that opened up more questions and by that point, Mike was ready to gag his mate and leave him tied up in his kitchen. In the end, he had left him with the TV remote and told him to use the spare room. Mike would, if he was lucky, be going back to Belinda’s to finish what they started or to just carry on doing what they had done, but with more contact and less clothing.

  He smiled as he remembered every detail of the afternoon, she was so damn beautiful and it would be nice to sit and have a proper conversation with her as well. To him, she was the complete package and he couldn’t wait to start showing her that there was more to him than a mechanic and a tank build.

  As he walked into The Vicar’s Pulpit, he didn’t expect to see it in a full out brawl; tables were broken and upended and chairs had been thrown against the wall. Bodies lay scattered, battered but alive, but there was no sign of Belinda. His heart shot into his mouth at the thought of her being hurt. Mike started to battle his way through the pub.

  “Belinda,” he called out as he stepped over men he had drunk with multiple times, until he found the barman curled in a corner, arms over his head.

  “Barry, you ok man?”

  “No mate, this place is mental.”

  “What happened?” Mike asked as he helped the man up off the floor.

  “Not sure, but everything kicked off after a woman came up to the bar. One minute she had ordered a drink the next… every guy in the place was trying to pay for it and then boom! It all went mental.”

  “Woman? Where did she go Barry, what happened to her?”

  “I think she went out back dude, she was on the bar with the broom at one point.”

  Mike didn’t wait to hear anything else and bolted for the back door, concern for Belinda growing with every second. Quietly he pushed open the door and stepped out into the dark, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light. He was only just able to see the outline of two figures by the wall. On the first glance, it looked as though a couple were getting up close and personal, until Mike heard a muffled cry.

  As he got closer he saw Belinda against the wall, almost unconscious at the hands of Clint. Mike growled and dived, taking hold of Clint at the waist and lifting him off the ground. He pushed him forward then tipped him over and slammed him into the floor.

  On the rugby pitch that move would have got him the red card but right now, it helped deliver some damage and helped direct his rage. He left Clint winded upon the floor and turned back to help Belinda. As he approached, she dived back against the wall, fear etched across her face.

  “Shhh baby, it’s me, it’s ok.” Her eyes changed from blind panic to recognition and she slowly got to her feet. Mike clenched his fists as he saw the deep purple bruises that marred the skin of her neck and she was wheezing for breath. He reached out and traced the skin gently before pulling her into his arms.

  “Oh Mike!” she cried out. “I was so scared, I couldn't breathe and he just kept squeezing.” She sobbed into his shirt, her body shaking and he rubbed his hands gently up and down her back.

  “Aww, well ain’t this cute?” Clint’s voice called from behind.

  “Fuck off, Clint, before I dump you on your arse again,” Mike responded. Releasing Belinda from the cage of his arms, he turned but kept her behind him and faced Clint.

  “You can try,” Clint said and just smiled as he levelled a small revolver on Mike’s chest. “Belinda! Oh Belinda, come out, come out,” he called in a sing-song voice that held a hint of crazy about it.

  “Leave her out of this.” Mike held up his hands and took a step closer.

  “No can do, she knows what I want and unless she hands it over, I will empty this gun into your chest,” Clint said with a smirk, as his other hand pulled out a serrated blade and waved it at them.

  “No, don’t, “Belinda called as she stepped out from behind Mike’s huge frame. “I will give you what you want,” she said, but was stopped from moving forward by Mike’s trunk like arm.

  “Stay back baby, I don’t trust him,” Mike growled out. “Don't give him anything, he's obviously lost it.”

  “It’s ok, I don’t want you hurt Mike,” she said and smiled up at him as she squeezed his arm. At any other time he would be overjoyed at the fact she wanted to protect him but right now, it was his job to protect her. Belinda stepped past him once more. Mike watched and followed close behind. He would wait for a chance to deal with Clint but only if Belinda wasn’t in the firing line.

  Her shaky hand reached into her handbag and pulled out a small wooden box. Mike had no clue what was in it or why it was so damn important that a guy would lose his marbles over it, but at the same time he was so proud of Belinda as she stood tall and faced Clint, holding out the box for him to take. He could tell she was shaking, a full body shiver seem to take over her so he closed the distance, just so he could touch her and reassure her that he was there.

  Clint’s eyes were wild and unfocused as he grabbed the box with the same hand that gripped the knife and lowered the one that held the gun. Mike saw his chance.

  He pushed Belinda out of the way and stormed forward, knocking the gun from his hand and punching Clint in the jaw. The gunshot that went off luckily missed him and Belinda, but echoed in the night making Belinda scream in terror.

  Mike felt like he had punched concrete as Clint fired back with his own not so meaty fist. The box and knife forgotten, Mike went full tilt into the fight, taking punches that, if they kept up, would knock him out sooner rather than later. As they fell to the ground, Mike pinned Clint but kept punching him continuously in his face. The sound of flesh and bone crunching was all that could be heard.

  “Mike stop, please stop, he’s had enough,” Belinda pleaded and tried to pull Mike from a prone Clint. He stopped his punching and looked up into the tear streak faced of his girl. Yes, she was his; she always had been.

  “He hurt you baby, I can’t have that.” He was honest with his answer, now that she had a glimpse of the anger he usually kept a tight rein on.

  “He’s finished,” she whispered. “You saved me, ok?” She smiled and he felt himself fall. Yes, he had a soft and tender side and she tapped into it every fucking time. He would do anything for her. That, he thought, he had just proven.

  “Baby, let’s…”

  “Mike!!” He heard Belinda call his name, felt pain shoot through his stomach. He looked down to see the hilt of a knife, the blade buried into his gut as Clint started to laugh through battered lips.

  “You lose, mortal,” Clint said, and Mike swore he saw his eyes turn gold as he was pushed to the side. Belinda’s cry echoed in his ears as he hit the cold, wet floor.

  †

  Belinda watched Clint stab Mike as if in slow motion. She’d watched him grab the knife from where it had landed on the grass. He had grinned as he had pushed slowly through the flesh of Mike’s stomach, as if it gave him pure pleasure to inflict pain. Belinda hadn’t been able to stop the scream that had erupted like an air siren from her throat. Her heart had dropped at the same time that Mike had fallen to the side, his hand gripping the hilt of the knife.

  She had frozen in shock as Clint climbed to hit feet. He delivered
a hard kick to Mike’s back, in turn, causing a loud moan of pain.

  She was petrified; she never in her entire life had expected something like this to happen to her and in this town. This was something you only ever saw on the news and never thought it would be real. It wasn’t just that Clint had gone crazy, it was the fact he had enjoyed what he was doing to Mike. He seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on others.

  Even when he had her by her throat he had smiled, almost laughed even. She couldn’t fathom how any creature could enjoy hurting another.

  As she watched his continuous taunts and punishment to Mike’s already felled form, she felt a bubble of anger start in the pit of her stomach. It slowly festered until it became a raging boil. This man had ruined her chance at happiness with Mike. Her heart was in pieces now. Even though they hadn’t spent as much time together as she had wanted, she could honestly say she felt intense emotion towards him and that was enough, as she had never ever felt that towards anyone else.

  Belinda’s eyes scanned the grass and quickly spotted the wooden box that housed the Essence, but next to it was the gun that had been dropped when Mike had attacked. Silly man, he shouldn't have done that. But to know he had done that just to protect her, made her want to cry.

  Slowly she bent and reached out for the gun, palming the cool metal in her hand. She kept her eyes on Clint and had to stop herself from wincing with each kick he delivered to Mike’s back, no doubt worsening the wound he had. She had no idea how to use a gun, this was the first ever time she had picked one up and it felt wrong in her hand. Going on instinct and what she had seen on the TV, she pulled back the cock on the revolver and held it up, pointed straight at Clint.