Pandora's Mistake (Fate of Eros #0) (The Fate of Eros Series)

by Black, E. B.

  His erection was huge. As it pressed against her entrance, she wondered how it would be possible for him to fit it inside. She begged for him not to do it, imagining the blood that would result, but he ignored her. It felt as if he was ripping her in half as he filled her up. He might as well have been pummeling her with a knife. Her hymen broke, a tiny tear, but it ricocheted throughout her abdomen. His grunts were loud and his thrusts were deep.

  She bit and clawed at his hands, but he took no notice. In fact, she was pretty sure that the more she fought him, the more he was turned on. She wished he would hurry and finish so that it could all be over. She wasn't sure she could make it through the whole thing alive and kept picturing her mother's disapproving face. Ceto had warned her that she could get hurt, but she hadn't listened. Was this whole thing her fault?

  With one last moan, he finished. He left her with a mess of sex juices and blood dripping down her thighs. She ached too much to move and get a glimpse of his face before he disappeared, but she had a feeling he would be gone anyway, even if she had been quick.

  The one thing she valued-her virginity-had been stolen from her like everything else. Her body trembled all over and she thought about searching for the knives the priestesses used to perform sacrifices and cut herself with them. Or maybe she could still find the man and kill him. She couldn't do it, though. It was too much effort.

  She lay there for what felt like an eternity and once her legs stopped shaking, she stood. She winced and almost fell over as she tried to walk. She had to grip the wall to make any progress. She was leaving all the evidence of the attack behind. She wanted to clean it and make it go away, but she didn't have the energy or tools to do so.

  When she finally got back to Bartholomew's room, she blew the candle out and lay on the hay. Her eyes were stuck wide open and she couldn't breathe, even as she rested her head. She wanted to light the candle again, so she could see what was happening in the room, but the two of them could get angry with her. She was scared the man would return and rape her again. Her two roommates would probably try to protect her, but that being had been strong and what if they couldn't fight him off? What if he covered her mouth and was so quiet that they heard nothing?

  She contemplated waking them, but wondered whether they would blame her for what had happened. Bartholomew knew she was a prostitute, after all. Maybe he'd make a joke and say she was probably just upset because he hadn't paid her or yell at her for wandering the temple alone. She couldn't take that.

  She wanted to tell the authorities, but knew that would help nothing. Being in the temple, in a man's room, was illegal. She'd be the one punished rather than the mysterious man who had hurt her.

  She hiccupped as she cried. It wasn't fair. She was ruined and possibly pregnant. She made bad decision after bad decision and she'd be suffering on the streets soon for all of them.

  Medy eventually drifted off to sleep and morning came too quickly. She begged Bartholomew and Cithara for permission to make a sacrifice in front of Athena's statue. Bartholomew hesitated before saying yes, which made Medy feel terrible, but this was important. They went into the agora to purchase a dove. The man wouldn't haggle for it, so Medy was forced to borrow a drachma. Cithara left; she'd be back to get her later.

  Bartholomew found a beautiful young brunette dressed all in white with a childish face. The other priestesses stared at the two of them as if they were teachers looking down at unruly students. The dove cooed in its cage, which cut the silence like a hammer banging against the wall.

  Bartholomew claimed in a whisper that she owed him a favor, but he still bowed his head and didn't look her in the eye as he asked the priestess to perform the sacrifice.

  Her mouth formed a tight line and Medy felt certain she'd say no. "Very well. Follow me."

  bBartholomew left to perform his duties. Medy hid her face behind her hair and didn't meet anyone's eyes as they traveled down the hallway she had been in the night before.

  "Most people aren't allowed into this place," the young priestess said. "If you touch anything or speak, you will be forced to leave immediately."

  Medy nodded her head. The mess she had left was gone. She wondered whether they'd cleaned it.

  When they neared the statue, Medy kept her eyes on the ground. The priestess set a pile of logs on a golden altar to the side and lit it on fire. She grabbed the caged dove from her. It flapped its wings wildly as she pulled it out. She took a bronze knife and slit its throat, barely noticing its struggle. Blood dripped down her hand as she removed the meat from the fat and bone; the priestesses and slaves would consume it later. She threw the fat and bone on the fire and soon the flickering flame was reflected on each gold plated wall.

  Medy bowed her head and clasped her hands. This would be the end of foolish decisions. The sacrifice of this pure, white bird would cleanse her for the future.

  She gazed at Athena's feet and swore that they were glowing. It must have been the morning light playing tricks on Medy's eyes. The toes twitched and she wondered whether the hallucinations were because of a lack of sleep.

  She looked up slowly as the white marble turned peach where Athena's skin lay. Her armor burst with color: in some places bronze, in others gold.

  Medy stumbled backwards. A servant carrying water shattered the pottery on the ground as she dropped it. All the priestesses fell to one knee.

  The owl on Athena's shoulder blinked and flapped its wings. Her hair flowed down her shoulders unlike any color Medy had ever seen. In some lights it shone red, in others blonde, and in the rest brown. It changed every time she moved. Her lips were pressed together, her chin stuck out, and she glared downward. She raised her spear and pointed it at Medy's forehead.

  Medy froze, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

  "You have defiled my temple!" Athena shouted.

  Tears streamed down Medy's face. Her knees felt weak. "I'm so sorry. I would never purposefully do such a thing."

  "Silence! I will not hear your excuses. I saw you sleeping with Poseidon in my temple last night! Or are you saying my eyes deceive me?"

  Medy's face paled. The one who had raped her was Poseidon? It couldn't have been.

  Athena's eyes narrowed. "I've heard about your bragging, too. You've been telling everyone that you're more beautiful than me. Is that why you slept with the man I was pursuing?"

  "No, that was-"

  Athena shook. "Time for your punishment! I'll make you as ugly on the outside as you are in your soul."

  Athena reached down and touched Medy's forehead with her giant finger. A white light radiated from her. It enveloped Medy in its beauty, but stung as it filled her. She shook, feeling unlimited power sizzling through her veins.

  The priestesses began to scream and run.

  Medy shook all over. Her whole body felt wrong, like her bones needed to be cracked. "What's happening to me?"

  Her back itched as pain laced through her shoulder blades. Pressure built up and relief shuddered through her as two giant bat wings burst from her. They ripped her clothes to shreds and left her naked. She didn't bother to cover herself.

  She was too frightened to move, but scared she'd harden in place from the tightening of her skin. Scales crawled up her once silky flesh. Her smooth hands darkened and grew hard as metal. Her hair swirled around her head as if it was alive. In fact, the strands had grown fangs and were biting her repeatedly. They tickled her skin with their tongues and when she saw they were snakes, she expected to swell and die. Fortunately, she was immune to the poison.

  That wasn't the worst part, though. The worst thing was when she met the gaze of Bartholomew. He didn't run like everyone else. He watched as her eyeballs fell from her face and red irises grew in their place. She should have been blind, but she had never been able to see the colors of the world more deeply.

  He screamed, horrified by her ugliness. He turned to run, but his body grayed and froze. His death and the moment Medy hurt her friend Cithara worse than any
one else could was immortalized in an eerie statue, twisting and running from her presence.

  She wanted to beg for Athena to make it stop, but she had disappeared and been replaced by her beautiful marble statue. Her judgment was finished.

  Everyone else screamed along with Medy. Some of them grayed and others escaped. She wondered how many had families.

  Soon nothing moved.

  Medusa collapsed as the world turned black.

  That was the day the monster Medusa was born.

  Chapter 3

  Medusa woke several hours later. She was naked and covered in a thick gray fog. She struggled to flap her wings because her feet weren't touching the ground, but she couldn't move. Invisible ropes and the scaly bodies of four other monsters of various sizes pressed up against her. She fought, even though each movement caused angry red gashes to erupt across her skin.

  The fog beneath her parted and she saw the green grasses of her homeland thousands of feet below her. The air was thin here and her heart beat quickly. She was flying through the clouds, but certain she would fall.

  A ray of sunshine fell on her and she saw a white line sparkling in the light. A net as fine as a spider's web, didn't budge as she fought it, but cut into her. The web was as strong as the invisible net that Hephaestus had used to capture Aphrodite and Ares when they were having an affair.

  She glanced up. Sure enough, she saw Hermes flapping the wings of his sandals and helmet, lugging the five of them effortlessly through the sky. Hairless in the places Medusa was able to glance at between his armor, his lanky frame was topped with a full head of curls.

  She resigned herself to her fate. The thin atmosphere and her adrenaline were making her dizzy.

  She scanned her snoozing companions. Two were creatures similar to herself with scaly skin, wings, and writhing snakes on the top of their heads. A muscular merman with lobster claws instead of hands lay next to them. Largest of all was a serpent whose body wrapped around the rest of the creatures and squeezed them tightly.

  They must have once been people who had fallen into disfavor with the gods like Medusa had. She squinted. Something was familiar about their features, such as the human shape of the merman's nose or the soft sighs that emerged from the sleeping lips of the large serpent. She could almost see their human forms, like ghosts that followed them. She gasped as realization hit her. Tears filled her eyes. This was what remained of her family.

  The giant sea monster was her mother, the merman her dad, and the two like her were her sisters: Euryale and Stheno. Punishing Medusa hadn't been enough. Athena had taken her whole family down. The one who was supposed to be the most level headed and merciful of the gods had tormented these innocent people.

  The snakes that had previously squirmed calmly on top of her head sensed her agitation and bit into her. She wished her hair didn't hate her so much. Her skin throbbed and stung because of it. She supposed she should be thankful that the venom couldn't kill her, but a part of her wished to die.

  A castle covered in fog, floating on an island in the air, came into view. Beacons of light burst from it in various angles. Medusa was forced to close her eyes for a moment because it was so pretty it stung her irises. Leaves made of gold decorated every inch of the white marble it had been built with and when the golden double doors opened, Medusa gasped at what she saw.

  A round table sat in the center of the room, covered in food. Pastries the color of flowers dripped sweet jam like honey. Fresh fish, cooked until the outside was crisp like Medusa had once loved to eat-teased her. Overflowing fountains filled golden goblets with pink juice. Every color of cloth hung from the walls. The floor itself sparkled with gems, making the room look like a giant rainbow. Fairies with iridescent wings and pointy features flew around like bees, arranging everything.

  Hermes plopped them down in a pile between two rows of thrones. The monsters stood out like a black eye near all this beauty.

  The thrones had been specially decorated to match the god that inhabited them. Medusa spotted Poseidon's, carved out of an aquamarine gemstone, so it looked like it had been left there by the ocean. Seashells rested on it and sand filled the base. Medusa clenched her teeth and tightened her fists as she stared.

  Zeus sat at his throne. He held a cup of nectar that he chugged in his right hand. The juice dribbled down his white beard. He was slurring the words to random songs. Even drunk, his voice sounded more beautiful than the birds that used to sing outside Medusa's window every morning.

  Athena walked in and Hermes flittered around the two of them. None of them looked at Medusa or her family. She felt like a fly listening in, latched to the wall.

  "They are too dangerous to keep on Earth." Athena didn't point at Medusa or her family, but it was obvious who she was referring to. "Who's going to argue with someone who can turn anyone into stone just by gazing into their eyes? They'll grow power hungry and destroy everything."

  Zeus nodded. "That's why I called this meeting. We need to decide what should be done with them. The others will arrive shortly. Hermes has already sent word."

  Athena paced, her body as stiff as a soldier's. The owl's feathers were ruffled.

  Hermes hovered in the air before them. "I've received messages that neither Poseidon nor Hades is showing up."

  Medusa didn't know whether she was relieved not to be forced to face her rapist or angry that she wouldn't get her revenge yet.

  Zeus and Athena didn't look surprised. The three great gods rarely participated in each other's concerns, even when they were the cause of it, like Poseidon was here. They all viewed themselves as the supreme god and were generally treated as such in their respective realms. In the ocean, Poseidon was not merely a god, he was the god of the sea. Very few fish or mermaids cared who Zeus was-some never heard of him. And it was the same with Hades and the realm of the dead. As most souls forgot their life on earth, they also forgot Zeus.

  "Poseidon gave me a message for you, Athena," Hermes said.

  Athena crossed her arms. "And?"

  Hermes cleared his throat. "He says that he thought it was you from behind. After all, your hair does shine as golden as hers did in the proper light."

  Athena's eyes narrowed. "Are you implying that I acted rashly then?" She grabbed Hermes by the collar and shook him. "Is this whole thing supposed to be some big misunderstanding?"

  Hermes' curls bobbed. He covered his face with his arms. They were smaller than Athena's. "Of course not. Medusa bragged that she was more beautiful than you. She obviously planned this whole thing just to hurt you. He would have never slept with her otherwise. That's all he's trying to say."

  Athena's shoulders relaxed and she released her grip. She nodded her head. "Yes, I was thinking the same thing."

  Zeus laughed. "I never knew you could get jealous like Hera. I thought you were different from other women, but this is tame compared with what she did when she found out about Semele and Dionysius."

  Athena smiled humorlessly. "Where will we live the day you make Hera so angry with your affairs that she tears apart the sky?"

  Zeus tweaked her on the nose. "I don't know about you, but I'll probably find a nice place to sleep between a woman's thighs."

  They laughed and Athena slapped Zeus on the back. He had just been given a new glass of nectar by one of the fairies. It spilled all over.

  Zeus took a sip anyway. "You've always been so intelligent that I'm relieved to see you behaving irrationally for once. You were showing up the rest of us."

  Athena stuck her nose in the air. "My actions were perfectly reasonable. They deserved worse after blaspheming me. If we don't punish mortals when they try to make fools of us, then they'll stop respecting the gods."

  Medusa shook, her vision clouding. How could they ruin people's lives so casually? She struggled against the net and it wrapped around her more tightly. The snakes bit into one of her eyes until they ripped some skin of her face open. It swelled to several times its original size.

&n
bsp; Athena laughed. "Did I tell you that I made Medusa's two sisters immortal, but let her keep her mortality? I want her to spend the rest of her life terrified of the moment when I decide to torture and kill her."

  "Is that why you let her wake and not the others? So she could know why they were all being punished?" Hermes asked.

  She felt the attention of all the gods in the room drawn in her direction, even though none of them turned.

  "I don't know what you are talking about," Athena said.

  Medusa struggled to see through the eye with pus dripping from it.

  The air began to smell a little sweeter and Medusa found herself growing aroused, which was especially embarrassing because she was naked. Aphrodite entered the room wearing a golden girdle. It shone the same color as her long blonde hair that flowed in waves past her feet. Her full breasts and nether regions were exposed and they looked magnificent.

  Beautiful mortals, much smaller than Aphrodite hung from her body and hair. They were her jewels. They kissed her toes and ankles. Several of them massaged her breasts. Groups of them wove flowers and shells through her shiny locks as they combed out non-existent tangles. Her skin glittered like it was covered in golden flakes.

  Hephaestus limped behind her, practically slobbering all over the floor. His legs were shriveled and only one seemed to move at all, dragging the other one behind his body. He carried a giant hammer across his shoulders. The muscles of his upper body were so bulked they looked as if they could explode. He had also created for himself hands-free crutches that wrapped around his waist and helped him travel.

  Behind them trailed several flute and harp players, all of whom danced to a sensual melody. They were naked and humped one another as if they wished to form an orgy.

  One of them rounded his eyes in fear as his gaze met Medusa's. His mouth widened to scream, but no sound came out. He was already stone.

  None of the gods or goddesses acknowledged what had just happened. They didn't turn to glare at Medusa or get rid of the statue. Fearful, they weren't looking at her because they could turn into stone, too. The realization gave her a shiver of pleasure. She snarled at the fairies as they fluttered around the statue and dragged it away. They squealed in horror.