The Gorgon Bride

by Galen Sulak-Ramsey

  As if hearing his complaint, the world changed. The wind picked up, rustled the grass below, and whipped across his back. Clouds drifted across the sky, soon parking themselves between Alex and the setting sun. Subsequently the light dimmed, and the orange tint that covered the fields disappeared, leaving the land in a perpetual state of grey. Soon that light faded, and only the faintest orange glow peeked out from the horizon.

  “I guess that’s that,” Alex said, rubbing his bleary eyes and deciding to pack it in. He could barely see the trees anymore, and where the deer were in that near-black landscape was anyone’s guess. “Good night, Mister Lion,” he said, easing himself off the wall. “Good work on wasting a day. Hope you sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

  Alex picked up the fishing net at his feet and began walking the three-mile trek back to where he had left his ponies. Out of habit, he checked his Garand for the umpteenth time. The magazine was full, and there was still a .30-06 round in the chamber. Not that he’d need any of that soon. No, what he needed now was something to eat and a nice bed to sleep in.

  Alex smashed into the ground, face first. Something heavy landed on his back and trapped his hands and rifle under his chest. Pain exploded in both shoulders. His neck burned in agony. Alex struggled to get upright, but he quickly realized he was fighting a losing battle with something large, furry, and laden with teeth. Every few seconds, he felt the creature’s jaw adjust, sending new waves of pain through his neck. It was only a matter of time before an artery or jugular was opened.

  “Get off!” Alex screamed, but it did no good. Desperate and running out of options, he pulled the trigger to his Garand.

  The rifle kicked like a rabid mule. The pressure on his neck and back was gone, and so was his attacker.

  Alex, with ringing ears, planted the butt of the rifle in the ground and pushed himself up. Blood poured from open wounds. It stained his clothes and the ground below. His fingers went numb. Goosebumps covered his arms, and a chill ran through his body. Worst of all, a lion, five feet at the shoulder, boldly stepped into view. Even in the waning twilight, Alex could see the blood caked around its mouth and nose.

  Alex tried to raise his rifle, but the strength in his arms had left him, indeed in his legs as well. He stumbled forward, dizzy and disoriented. Try as he might, he couldn’t stay upright. Alex fell back, striking his head on the ground below. The lion pounced him, and clamping down on his neck, Mister Lion crushed the cartilage in Alex’s neck.

  Alex tried to scream, but the only thing that escaped his lips was a sputtering wheeze. His vision left him, and then so did the pain.

  * * *

  Alex opened an eye, groggy, confused, and unsure of everything. With a little concentration, he realized he was lying on a damp, limestone floor, unable to move or even feel his limbs. He couldn’t see much of anything else, save the mouth of a cave a dozen yards away that led to a starry night.

  Though his vision was lacking, he could still hear. Something snored loudly behind his back, and it didn’t take long for Alex to realize what that something was; it was Mister Lion. Why Alex hadn’t become a late-night snack, he had no idea. But he wasn’t about to wake the feline to find out. All that mattered right now was to get up and get out. Once that was taken care of, he could figure out what next to do.

  Alex summoned all his strength and tried to get to his feet. His arms, however, failed to respond in any controlled manner, and the moment he moved his legs, pain wracked his body. Alex gritted his teeth, and tears clouded his vision, but still he pushed on. Gods knew how many agonizing minutes it took for Alex to get on all fours, but eventually he did. True, he was a little lopsided, a little off balance, and near his mental breaking point, but he was up off the ground. And that, as far as Alex was concerned, was half the battle. Now all he needed to do was get out without making a sound.

  When the stabbing pain in his body traded itself for a dull throb, Alex made another attempt to get to his feet. He didn’t get far. Instead of going upright, his muscles contracted and he quickly found himself back on all fours.

  Refusing to be defeated or stay in the cave a moment longer, Alex slowly crawled toward the mouth of the cave. With each push of a leg, every extension of an arm, it felt like nails were being driven into his limbs and twisted for good measure. By the time he had gone only a few paces, his body shook violently. By the time he neared the mouth of the cave, he’d nearly chewed through his lower lip to keep from whimpering.

  Alex stopped, unable to go any farther. He thought about easing back to the ground to regain his strength, but he worried he might not be able to get up again.

  I can make the light, he told himself, picking a more attainable goal. Whereas the mouth of the cave seemed like a mile away, the moonlight that poured into the cave was only a step or two in front of him. Baby steps, he thought. Baby stepping to the light.

  Alex willed himself forward. The nails drove through his arms in an even greater number than before, but they did not stop him from reaching his goal. As Alex pushed himself into the moonlight, relief washed over him. That relief, however, was quickly drowned by terror.

  Alex looked down to see that his left arm was gone at the elbow, a bloody, ragged stump in its place. His right arm fared only slightly better, its hand missing half its digits and a thumb. Alex almost caught the scream in his throat, but when he looked into a puddle of water and saw the reflection of a half-eaten, one-eyed face staring back, that scream shot out of his mouth like a runaway train.

  The lion roared, and Alex scampered forward, but he didn’t get far. His torn limbs could not begin to match the demands he set for them. Instead of bounding away like a nimble gazelle, he fell to the ground like a mutilated fawn.

  A familiar weight of crushing, feline death landed on his back. Claws batted his head and sides. Teeth, again, locked around his neck. The lion jerked its head, and the last thing Alex heard was the sound of his vertebrae snapping.

  * * *

  Alex jerked awake.

  Late morning sunlight poured into the empty cave, and with Mister Lion nowhere to be seen or heard, Alex looked himself over. He found his arms whole, thankfully. They were a little stiff, but not the chewed-up hunks of meat they once were. He had two hands and ten fingers, all intact. His torso was free of blemish and scar, but his clothes hung off him in bloody tatters.

  Alex reached up and touched his face, trying to find any damage. His probe was ginger at first, but soon Alex was slapping his cheeks, relishing the wholeness of his head. As far as he could tell, he was tip top. No pain. No chunks of flesh missing. Hell, he even had two eyes. There was no time to argue or ponder why things were. He needed to get the hell out of there. Fortunately, he could hear birds chirping nearby, and if the birds were singing, surely Mister Lion was far away.

  Alex jumped to his feet and rocketed out the mouth of the cave. The wind kissed his face and welcomed him to his newfound freedom. The sun cast its warm rays upon his skin, clearly wanting to bless his escape. Down the mountainside Alex ran, hurdling over shrubs and rocks, unsure of where he was going or where he wanted to be. All he knew was that any place had to be better than that cave.

  Alex stopped next to a tree to get his bearings. The cave was about three hundred yards behind him at this point. If he squinted, to his right he thought he could make out the rock wall he’d been on the other day. It was far, maybe a mile away, but Alex felt certain he could cover the distance easily. The thought of being another feline snack only reinforced his determination.

  “Wait till I see you again, Mister Lion,” Alex said, taking off again. “We’ll see who goes down then.”

  Mister Lion suddenly appeared in front of Alex’s path, lazily walking out of some waist-high grass. Alex skidded to a halt, and the lion cocked his head and looked toward him as if perplexed as to why this man kept returning to life. Apparently, however, such mental musings weren’t all that important to the lion,
for he charged a moment later, teeth bared.

  Alex swung at the creature, more out of reflex than anything else. His fist hit it directly in the nose with a satisfying thunk. Mister Lion, however, had far too much momentum to be stopped by such a silly attack and crashed into Alex with full force. The two rolled on the ground, claws and fists flying. Somehow, by fate or by luck, Alex ended up on top of his feline foe and rained blow after blow on its head.

  “Oh, you want some of this, Mister Lion?” Alex screamed, completely enraged. His fists continued to pummel the creature’s head, never slowing in the least. “Guess you picked the wrong goddamn supper! Guess you didn’t know I just keep coming back!”

  Alex’s punches, while fast and furious, ultimately proved ineffective. This became clear when the lion, still on its back, raised its hind legs and hooked them under Alex’s arms. Then with one powerful kick the lion sent Alex tumbling off.

  “Run, Mister Lion! Run! I’ve been eaten by birds more ferocious than you!” Alex called out as the lion disappeared into the grass. “Next time I see you, you’re going to be a pelt!”

  Alex panted and smiled. Round three was his. True, his body was soaked in his own blood, but he was used to it by now, and he was clearly the victor. With that thought, Alex began the trek back to wherever his gear was. Now that he’d thoroughly spanked Mister Lion and sent him running home, he felt confident, bad ass, utterly unstoppable. He felt…knocked to the ground and torn to shreds.

  * * *

  Another morning came and greeted Alex as he opened his eyes. Once more he was back in the lion’s den, and once again, his body had been made anew. This time, however, Mister Lion sat near the mouth of the cave and stared at Alex.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” said Alex, shaking his head as the lion approached. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

  One giant pounce later, Alex was back in the feline’s jaws.

  “I hope you choke on me,” Alex spat.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Morning. The twelfth day. Alex had marked the cavern wall accordingly with a nearby rock.

  Today will be different, he thought to himself. Today, Mister Lion, you will not crush my throat, nor spill my guts, nor snap my neck. Nor will you have any other form of pre-meal entertainment. For I, Mister Lion, refuse to move.

  As such, Alex remained still, eyes closed tight, not once even daring to peek to see if the lion was near. He knew where he was. Mister Lion was lying down near the front of the cave, watching and waiting, as it had for the past two weeks. Alex could hear his occasional yawn or grunt from time to time. And why would Mister Lion move? He had a free meal delivered in home every morning. Alex’s only real question at this point was why Mister Lion hadn’t grown fat and lazy by now.

  An hour passed, and then another. All the while Alex plotted against his feline foe. Victory would be his, oh yes. True, the past twelve days had seen Alex run down time and again, torn limb from limb, but during each of those days, Alex had been studying Mister Lion’s moves, learning his weaknesses. Today would see the end of Mister Lion, if only the damned thing would wander off.

  At some point in the day, Alex realized he hadn’t heard anything aside from the occasional bird or breeze for some time. When he opened his eyes and didn’t see his archenemy lying or prowling about, he dared look around. The cave, for the moment, was empty.

  Swiftly, silently, Alex slinked to the mouth of the cave, back pressed against the wall. He peered outside, checking nearby grass and scrub as much as he could. Mister Lion was nowhere to be seen, but Alex was wise to the ways of this feline. Mister Lion was out there, somewhere, but Alex wasn’t afraid. Death had become more of an annoying setback than anything else at this point. That aside, he only had to make two short sprints before his masterful plan could be executed.

  Alex glanced at his flanks one last time before he bolted. He bounded over the familiar rocks and crags of the mountainside, deftly avoided a few pitfalls he’d inadvertently hit before, and catapulted himself up a lone oak tree. Perched on a low branch, Alex paused long enough to ensure that Mister Lion wasn’t right on his heels.

  With no sign of the beast, Alex gripped a three-inch thick branch that grew above his head and pulled. For a second, the branch resisted, but soon it bent, splintered, and subsequently snapped under Alex’s unyielding strength. He fell out of the tree and rolled when he hit the ground. He had no illusions of snapping off a branch gracefully, nor did he care. All he wanted was a weapon, and now he had it.

  Alex was on his feet and running a second later. If Mister Lion wasn’t tracking him before, the sound of an oak limb snapping would undoubtedly send him coming. And that meant Alex would soon have to make his stand. Fortunately, the stream wasn’t far off, and that was exactly where he wanted to be.

  Alex’s feet pounded the ground, and his legs pumped without relent. The stream bubbled merrily, beckoning him closer. It promised him safety. Victory. The grass, on the other hand, tormented him. With each rustle made by the wind, every tall clump he passed, it promised him death by a whirlwind of fang and claw.

  Alex ran on, never slowing. His eyes glanced left and right. His hands tightened on his club. His feet splashed in the shallow stream, and his mind commanded his body to halt, though it was tempting to run on.

  With his club raised, Alex spun around. He grinned and laughed like the Mad Hatter. “Oh, Mister Lion,” Alex cried out. “Your opportunity has passed!”

  The lion didn’t appear, and Alex kept his back to the stream, not because he expected the attack to come from the grass, but because he counted on Mister Lion to slink around for an attack on his rear. A few minutes passed, and Alex resisted the urge to run. Occasionally, he threw a glance over his shoulder, and after the fifth one, he kept his eyes forward and silently counted.

  One…two…thee…four…five…six.

  Alex whirled around at the sound of grass parting in time to see Mister Lion clearing the stream in a single bound. As the lion sailed through the air, Alex deftly stepped to the side and swung his club like he had been served a soft pitch at the bottom of the ninth with bases loaded.

  The club connected with the side of Mister Lion’s head with a loud crack. Mister Lion roared in defiance, and as he landed, Alex was on him again, swinging harder and faster than ever before. With every strike, Alex drove the lion into the ground and kept it stunned.

  “That’s for eating me yesterday,” Alex yelled, landing a wicked uppercut with his club. Mister lion’s head snapped back, and the feline rolled over, clearly punch drunk. Without losing any momentum in the attack, Alex brought the club high overhead and hit the creature again as it tried to come to its feet. “And that’s for trying to eat me again today!”

  The club struck Mister Lion directly on the forehead and snapped in two. Alex chucked his half of the club away and leapt on the back of Mister Lion before the feline had a chance to recover. Alex then wrapped his lower legs around the lion’s waist and his arms around the lion’s neck.

  Mister Lion, with his strength returning, roared and tried to bite and claw his way to freedom. He thrashed about and slammed the back of his head into Alex’s shoulder. When that didn’t work, he rolled several times over, but that played directly into Alex’s plan.

  On Mister Lion’s final roll, the two ended up in the stream. There, Alex wrestled with the great beast, dragging it deeper and deeper into the water. Alex had only one goal in mind the entire time, to keep his head above the water while keeping Mister Lion’s beneath. If he couldn’t stab, bludgeon, or shoot the animal to death, Alex was determined to drown the damn thing if that was the last thing he did.

  Mister Lion bucked, and Alex fought hard to keep the animal down. More than once Alex almost lost his grip and paid for it each time with his blood. The stream turned red where they fought, and Alex knew his arms and legs wouldn’t last forever. He could only hope the damage wasn’t yet severe enough to allow Mister Lion to esca
pe.

  Sensing things were at a turning point, Alex kept the lion’s head submerged with one hand and rained blows down with the other. The lion’s fight weakened. Its body gave several violent spasms, then quit moving.

  Exhausted, elated, bloodied and bruised, Alex dragged the waterlogged feline body from the stream. As he sat on the bank, he looked at his fallen foe. Part of him was sad that he had had to kill such a magnificent beast, but a greater part was glad it was over.

  A small part of him, however, found humor in it all. “We’re a lot alike, Mister Lion. We both fight to the death,” he said, patting the creatures head. “So if you come back tomorrow morning, we’ll call it a draw.”

  * * *

  Jessica and Odysseus were not on the beach where Alex had left them. Alex spent the better part of a few hours scouring the island before he spied them inland and at the edge of a dense forest. When he reached them both, Alex hopped off his chariot with the lion carcass across his back and tossed it in front of them.

  “You did it!” Jessica said, dropping the seven-foot spear she had in hand, running over and squeezing him tight. “I was getting worried, but Odysseus said we should give you at least a month before sending out a search party.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow at the fallen weapon. “What’s that about?”

  “Hunting lessons,” Jessica said, beaming.

  “Hunting what, exactly?”

  “Anything. Everything. Oh my god, Alex, when this is all done, you’ve got to take me back here. Do you know how amazingly awesome it is to take down a chimera? I mean, I had help—lots of help—but still…”