The Gorgon Bride

by Galen Sulak-Ramsey

  “You did a fine job, Jessica,” Odysseus said, casually leaning on his own spear. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece, Alex. Part of me wondered if the lion would eat you.”

  “He did eat me,” Alex replied. “But that—”

  “Wait,” Jessica cut in. “What do you mean, he ate you? Like, ate ate you? Complete with chewing and swallowing and…stuff?”

  “Yes, and more than once at that.”

  “Jesus. How’s that possible?”

  “Apparently, this ever-healing body of mine covers being lion food, too,” said Alex. “At this point, I don’t know if Hades blessed me or cursed me. Waking up in a cave, day after day, and being chewed up is unsettling.”

  Jessica cringed, and her eyes misted. “I don’t even want to know.”

  “I imagine it must have been horrifying,” said Odysseus. “Did you find what you need?”

  Alex pointed down at the lion. “That’s a dead cat, isn’t it? One I killed without your stupid nets.”

  Odysseus glanced at the lion carcass and grinned. “Tell me, Alex,” he said. “What kept you going? Being eaten time and again is not something most people would willingly face.”

  “Willpower,” said Alex, thinking and rubbing his chin. His gaze drifted to the treetops, to where the wind gently swayed the leaves, and his mind drifted back to those gods-forsaken days of being trapped in a cave with only the breeze and birds to keep him company. “Determination to see this potion made and a healthy dose of insanity.”

  Odysseus raised an eyebrow. “Insanity?”

  “Yeah, insanity,” Alex said with a chuckle. “After about the third or fourth time I became a meal, the situation became too absurd to take seriously anymore.”

  A dog, tall and lean, bounded from the forest, interrupting the conversation. It ran up to Jessica, licked her hands, and then bounded over to Odysseus, its long, curled tail wagging the entire time with boundless enthusiasm. Once at Odysseus’s side, it promptly sat with its chin up, ears pointed high, and never once barked or looked away.

  “Alex, meet Argos,” Odysseus said, scratching the dog behind its ears. “He’s finer than any hound you’ll ever meet, and he served me faithfully when I walked among the living. I can’t begin to tell you about my elation when I learned he waited for me here in Elysium.”

  “I didn’t realize pets went to heaven,” said Alex.

  Odysseus gave a surprised look. “And why not?” he asked. “Are they too not made by the gods? Do they not faithfully serve their masters?”

  “I suppose some do.”

  Odysseus knelt, grabbed his dog with both hands, and playfully shook it around. “And those that do get to come here and play,” he said to the hound. He then turned to Alex and said, “You should come with us for the afternoon. The boars we’re about to hunt are things of legends. Three times as big and ten times as ferocious as any anywhere else. I’d wager that a relaxing afternoon spent hunting one down might do you some good, especially considering the ordeal you’ve just gone through.”

  “Thank you, but no,” Alex said, holding up a hand. “I want to finish this potion so I can see where I’m at. Besides, I don’t know the first thing about hunting pigs.”

  Odysseus stood and offered Alex his spear. “There’s nothing to it,” he said. “We can either corner the boar, at which point you’ll need to stick it with a well-placed thrust. Or we can let Argos antagonize it enough so it charges.”

  “You let a boar charge you?” asked Alex incredulously. “Seems like that would be hard to dodge.”

  “You don’t dodge it, my good man,” said Odysseus, serious as ever before. “A stupid creature like that is blind to its rage. All you have to do is plant the spear in the ground and it will impale itself without a second thought. It’s very exhilarating when it happens. You only need to be sure that the butt is seated and the point is aimed at his chest.”

  “Given my time with Mister Lion, I have no intentions of letting anything else charge me,” said Alex. “But if I do end up doing something that stupid, I’ll keep your pointers in mind.”

  “Perhaps next time you happen this way I can convince you to join us,” said Odysseus. “But be warned, if Heracles is here when we do, he’ll insist we tackle the beasts and strangle them.”

  Alex shook his head at the insanity of it all. “I’ll keep that in mind as well. Can we get back to my potion now?”

  “If you wish,” he answered. “You’ll need to see Hades this time and be sure to bring this necklace with you,” Odysseus said, removing a small silver chain from his neck and handing it over. “The amulet attached, though plain to sight and touch, can capture what we seek.”

  “And what is it we seek?” asked Alex.

  “Perseverance,” he answered. “To get it, Hades must take you to Tartarus, for no mortal is allowed in on his own accord—so again, Jessica will need to stay here.”

  “Doing things on my own is becoming the norm, it seems,” said Alex.

  Odysseus nodded. “You will be more on your own in Tartarus than you’ve ever been. It is a place of righteous fire, where punishment for the most heinous is doled out. There you will be strapped to a wheel of fire on which you must remain for five days without rest or aid of any kind.”

  “You’re chaining me to a wheel so I can be tortured?” Alex said, fear and anger in his voice. “Have you gone mad?”

  “I am neither mad nor chaining you to anything,” Odysseus replied. “You’re free to keep my nets, but you won’t be able to use them. They’ll burn up the moment they touch that wheel.”

  “Which means?” Alex asked, knowing he didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “Which means you must hold on to the wheel of your own accord if you want to succeed,” Odysseus answered. “I won’t lie. It will be nothing short of excruciating. But it is the only way we can draw out and capture the purest form of perseverance, Alex. And love, true love, takes much of it.”

  Jessica put a soft hand on Alex’s shoulders. “Alex, think about this for a second.”

  “I’m trying not to.”

  She turned him toward her. He could see in her eyes that there was much she wanted to say, but she only managed a few words. “This is insane. There’s got to be some other way.”

  Odysseus shook his head, looking sympathetic to Alex’s plight. “Suffering, I’m afraid, is sometimes necessary.”

  “Then say no,” she said, her voice wavering. “You can’t do this to yourself. Look at all you’ve done so far. No one is going to say you haven’t tried.”

  Alex looked at Odysseus who nodded. “She’s right on all counts. You’ve done a lot, and I’d say thus far you’ve tried as hard as any other man. What do you say to that?”

  “I say I’m still without answers, so I’ve got no choice.” Alex sighed heavily. “What happens if I fall off the wheel?”

  “You’ll have to start over,” he said. “You must stay on that wheel for five days without break.”

  Alex shook his head. “She’s right. This is insane.”

  “I agree, but you are the one choosing not to love your wife,” Odysseus said. “If this path doesn’t appeal to you, you can always walk away.”

  “And be back in love limbo where I started? No thank you. I need answers,” Alex replied. “Let’s get this flaming wheel of death over with.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Alex, trembling and speechless, stood next to Hades at the shores of Tartarus. A river of lava flowed a few feet away, roaring and churning as it completely encircled an island a quarter mile away. Jets of flame shot out from the molten rock, seemingly even more so whenever Alex was brave or stupid enough to draw near the shore’s edge. The air was dense and smelled of sulfur. Volcanic ash covered the ground in a thick, deep carpet and made walking difficult. Well, it made walking difficult for Alex. Hades, on the other hand, appeared to have no difficulty whatsoever.

  “When Zeus strapped Ixion
to the wheel of fire, I thought the punishment a good one,” Hades said, leading Alex to a narrow bridge. Since Alex’s mention of voluntary torture, the god’s attitude had shifted from depressive to unsettlingly eager. “I liked it so much I built a wheel of my own, but never got around to making locks that wouldn’t melt,” Hades went on. “I’m glad to see it will finally be put to use.”

  “Me too,” said Alex, though he thoroughly was not.

  “When this is over, remind your friend that she owes me pictures of my wife.”

  “I will,” Alex said, feeling uneasy about Jessica suddenly being brought into the conversation.

  “Good, and be sure to tell her all that you witnessed down here, for I promise she’ll suffer the lot of it should she not come through on her promise.”

  “Over my dead body,” almost came out of Alex’s mouth, but he kept those words from passing his tongue when his mind realized such a threat was hollow when thrown at the God of the Underworld. So instead, he chose to alleviate Hades’ concerns as best he could. “She’ll come through. I promise.”

  Hades nodded in response, and with quick, purposeful steps, he led Alex across the bridge. It was a bridge, Alex noted, that was cool to the touch despite the scalding air. As they approached the other side, Alex saw that the island was circumscribed by a large wall, and in that large wall was only one gate. Atop that one gate was a thing—for what else could it be called—that made Alex stop in his tracks.

  The creature had a dragon-like body of at least fifty yards in length, tail not included. It gripped its perch with claws that looked like they could easily peel a tank, and it watched Alex with fifty sets of eyes, each pair being set in one of fifty serpentine heads. Each head bared fangs like spears and screeched nonstop until Hades silenced them with a wave of his hand.

  “Don’t mind him,” said Hades. “Those in the presence of an Olympian have nothing to fear.”

  “That’s…comforting,” Alex said, being sure he stayed near the god as he opened the gates. “Though I’m not sure how much I’ll like that little tidbit when you leave.”

  “I will return in five days,” Hades said as they passed through. “If for nothing else so that you can fetch my scepter. I’m not pleased that you forgot it, but I think this self-inflicted punishment of yours is good enough to stay my hand.”

  “Sorry about that, again,” Alex said, hoping Hades didn’t press the lie. “I promise it’s perfectly safe.” He then opted to try and change the subject so the matter would be forgotten. “How much farther is this wheel of yours?”

  “Not far,” Hades said. “Not far at all.”

  Inside the wall, Alex followed Hades over the barren terrain and down a long, gradual decline until they reached the island center. There, Alex stared at a pit the likes of which he’d never seen. It was at least four hundred yards across and gods knew how deep. A single staircase, narrow and broken, wound its way down the inside edge, flickering torches being the only things that illuminated the way.

  “How deep?” asked Alex, fiddling with the necklace Odysseus had given him.

  “Deep,” Hades replied.

  Alex picked up a small rock and tossed it over the edge. His eyes strained trying to follow it into the inky black. “Damn,” he finally said after several moments. “I couldn’t even hear it hit bottom.”

  “It will not hit bottom for seven days,” said Hades, starting down the stairs. “If I were you, I’d mind my step.”

  “No kidding,” said Alex, shying away from the edge and feeling dizzy. He fell in line behind Hades as the god descended into the pit, all the while wishing he could will a handrail into existence. Down they went, passing a myriad of dark tunnel entrances. Some were silent, others were not. From those that weren’t came mournful wails, shrieks of terror, and cries of insanity.

  Eventually, Hades entered one of the silent tunnels. The air felt stale, and though no echoes of madness bounced off the walls, Alex had the overwhelming urge to run.

  The passage made a dozen turns before opening into a small cavern. Oblong and with a high, mossy ceiling, the cave offered ample space. In the middle floated a large wheel that slowly spun on an invisible axel.

  Hades walked over to it, and with one hand he gripped the wheel’s edge and brought it to a stop. “Climb on, Alex.”

  “On to what?” Alex replied. As far as he could tell, there was no chair to sit, grips to grip, or handles to clutch. It was merely a large wheel with eight spokes.

  “As I said earlier, I have no chains that can withstand the heat,” said Hades. “You will need to wrap your arms and legs around the wheel’s edge if you are to remain affixed.”

  Alex walked over and after using a quick touch with a wet finger to see if the wheel was hot or not, he attached himself to the wheel’s outer edge. There he hung upside down with arms and legs wrapped and locked together. “Now what?”

  “Now you hold on for five days,” Hades said. The corners of his mouth drew back. With one hand he set the wheel in motion and with the other, he conjured a ball of flame that hovered an inch above his open palm. “Any last requests?”

  “Pint of morphine?” Alex said, eyes wide. He could feel the color drain from his face, and as much as he wanted to look away, he couldn’t keep from staring at the flame.

  “I don’t know what this morphine of yours is, but I’m guessing it has to do with pain. So no, you can’t have any.”

  The god flicked his wrist and the ball of fire hopped off his palm and onto the wheel. The flame raced in both directions along the wheel’s edge. Alex clenched his teeth as the fire ran over his body with a roar. His skin peeled, and his hair vanished. Alex’s screams were only answered by the sizzle of flesh.

  The wheel glowed red, and Alex tried to shift his grip in his pain-deluded state, hoping that it might offer some relief. But to his horror, his arms stuck to the metal and pulling on them only exacerbated the pain.

  Time crawled. Seconds turned into years and then into lifetimes in the single flick of a flame.

  “Five days,” he heard Hades say. “That’s when I’ll be back. Try not to let go, for your sake. I’d hate to see you start over.”

  Alex tried to force out a question, but it sounded so unintelligible, he wasn’t sure if the god heard it, let alone understood it.

  “How long has it been?” Hades said.

  Alex whimpered while searching for some sort of mental hole to crawl into and shield himself from what he was suffering through.

  “Almost thirty seconds,” Hades said cheerfully. “Less than four hundred and thirty-two thousand to go.”

  Moments later, Alex was alone.

  * * *

  Tartarus. Oh, how Aphrodite hated coming to this place. How could anyone enjoy the intoxicating aroma of her perfume when the smell of sweat and blood permeated every nook and cranny? How could the wretched gaze upon her beauty when their eyes were plucked from their sockets? And who could listen to the melodious sound of her voice with that gods-awful howling strangling the air? It’s not like anyone wanted to hear their cries of agony. After all, would it really kill the damned to shut up long enough for her to conclude her business in peace? Was it really asking too much to ask them to suffer in silence? It’s not like they were lying in beds they hadn’t made. It’s not like they didn’t deserve every last bit of punishment they had to endure. It’s not like they had done what was right or paid homage to the gods when due. Had they done any of that, maybe they wouldn’t be in the mess they were in.

  The last thought further infuriated the goddess. Insolent, selfish, sufferers. Even in death they could only think of themselves. Even in death, they refused to learn their place. She had half a mind to waltz right into whatever tunnel the loudest group was in and show them what real agony was. Anything could be made worse with a broken heart.

  Ultimately, Aphrodite decided against it. Lashing a poor soul with a few more stripes would increase the time she had to sp
end in such a miserable place, and since all she was here for was Alex, the sooner she saw him, the sooner she could leave and go back to being adored by all.

  She entered his tunnel and paused. The screams—the ones she’d been loathing the most—were coming from this place, which meant Alex was the source of her irritation.

  Aphrodite pressed her lips together and promised herself she’d rein in her displeasure long enough to get what she wanted.

  Maybe.

  * * *

  With his arms around his knees, Alex sat in the far corner of the cave and slowly rocked. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he choked off his sobs and buried his emotional agony as best he could. A few seconds later, Aphrodite stepped into the cavern and stopped a few paces away from the wheel.

  “Alex?” she said, looking around. Though the wheel burned steadily, the flames were not enough to illuminate the nook Alex was in. “Where are you, my dear?”

  Alex didn’t answer, and he prayed she’d leave soon. When she didn’t and it was clear she was staying, he finally spoke. “Over here.”

  “Come out of the dark, silly,” she said, beckoning him over with a wave of her hand.

  “I’d rather stay.”

  “You want me to be all alone?” she said with a pouting lip. “I’m hurt that you’d leave me so.”

  Alex shook his head and decided nothing mattered one way or the other anymore. Stiffly, painfully, he took to his feet and limped toward her. When he stepped into the fire’s light, he watched for her reaction.

  Aphrodite gasped and covered her mouth with one hand.

  “Am I that hideous?” he asked with a laugh. Of course he was. Though he couldn’t see his face, he had felt it enough to know his nose, ears, and much of his mouth were gone. And he could certainly see the charred black stubs his hands and feet had become. Not to mention the places on his chest and midsection that looked like hamburger that had spent a good three hours on the grill.

  “Alex, what did you do?” she said, recomposing herself. She closed the distance between them and took his hands in hers. “Talk to me.”