x
The sound of metal quickly clambering against the polished golden paved ground reverberated throughout the passageways within the Palace of Zeus. Looking down at the ripples forming across the glass glossy surface of his wine chalice, Zeus listened to the sound grow in intensity edging closer to his throne hall with annoyance. With the sweet taste of ambrosia stained on his lips, he sat tracing his finger around the rim creating a rhythmic song in anticipation. The doors to his hall burst open slamming at the frame pinned against the wall. "Father, how can you sit here defining your ass print into your throne while chaos grows from underneath us." Lightning slowly cracking from his eyes Zeus looked up to meet the infuriated gaze of his uninvited guest.
"Ares, need I remind you of whose fucking hall you are in? I am not one of your whores you can intimidate or cower from your presence. Truth be told, I'm not impressed." Ares paced heavily back and forth, tracing his footsteps, dragging his white and gray wool cloak in his wake, pausing to get the desired answers. For as bulky and heavy as his infernal armor was, he moved with a light grace with every movement. Ares was slightly shorter than most Gods of Olympus, but that was hard to observe as his chiseled armor conformed to his body providing more than enough compensation. Large onyx demonic ram heads sat upon each shoulder inflicting intimidation on most lesser souls at first glimpse. For most to cross his path, a first glimpse was a courtesy as it would be their last.
"My intention is not to impress Father, but rather to direct your gaze to a threat that impresses fragility to our immortality."
Zeus twisted his head to the side still refusing to look up at Ares for his eyes were still locked onto his goblet. "The only fragility within Olympus is your flaccid ego Ares. Get to the point the tournament is underway and I wine to drink." He ripped his helmet from in his head in disgust so that he may look Zeus in the eyes. His frustration and anger were on the brink of getting the best of him. "Deimos is dead! He went to challenge and kill Hermes and he's dead!" Meeting Ares's gaze for the first time since he entered the hall, "Yeah Gods die in the tournament, it's a deathmatch, it's kind of the fucking point." Squeezing his helmet tightly Ares slammed it down onto the table sending plates crashing to the floor causing Zeus's attention to completely shift to him and his eyes to widen. "No, you old fool. He didn't die by Hermes's hand. Hermes was a weakling. Deimos died at the hands of his bastard demi-god son." Zeus suddenly felt a twinge of shock shoot up his spine and felt his body stiffen. "That's not possible."
Ares's body was now shaking with anger, his fury was obvious as a familiar ember flame began to emanate from around his eyes. Reaching deep into his cloak he pulled the horrifying carnage of Deimos's head split into two halves and let them fall to the ground at the base of the throne. "Then I suggest my King, you tell him that and maybe add in a polite request to stop since it's not possible. A Godly curtsy may sway him." Zeus stared deeply into the cold darkness of Deimos's captured dead expression. "I'll handle this", winced out Zeus crushing the chalice in his grasp. "How will you handle this? You would risk more of the Gods of the heavens to this mortal?" Lightning began to crackle around him and in an instant, he was standing immediately before Ares with his throat grasped tightly in the same fashion as the chalice he had just destroyed. "Don't question me. My methods are why any of you exist. It's why any of you are here. Solutions can be messy, but I produce victories and my victories allow the rest of you to continue to be my burden." With that Zeus tensed his arm and then released, dropping Ares back to his feet leaving him at the very least a bit humbled. Retracing his steps back towards the door, he took one final glance at Zeus before slamming the doors shut behind him. "Fine father, have your secrets." Staring blanketly at the horizon from his balcony Zeus was lost in thought once more. "What is a bastard, but a miserable pile of secrets?" mumbled Zeus. "Why does it always come back to bastards?"
Another! screamed the man from the back of the tavern as an empty cup flew through the air across the room toward the barmaid. The sounds of song and drink floated heavily through the atmosphere with whispers of victory on the tongues of everyone who filled the room. Thessalonica, the second largest city in all of Greece and the capital of Macedonia, the drink was always overflowing and there was no shortage of women or men to quench your thirst. Having just returned from yet another battlefield of broken feeble foes full of all kinds of thirst. The mighty fabled Hercules was drinking his fill of wine along with the radiant glances of admiration and desire. For tales and legends ran wild in the bigger cities bringing in the sort of fame and fortune befitting the son of Zeus. Standing taller than the average man by at least two full head lengths with iconic muscles like boulders for shoulders and tree trunks for legs. His physique was truly befitting his lineage. "Here's your drink my lord, it's on the house", sweetly whispered the barmaid into Hercules's ear before turning and seductively swinging her hips as she looked back over her shoulder and walked away. He seemed to leave quite the impression without saying a word.
Sitting back in his chair Hercules's mind lingered in thought as he traced the curves of her body with his eyes. He was quite a remarkable sight to behold, and his supposed infamous trials were captured by both myth and legend. The son of Zeus, hated by Hera for Zeus's adultery with a mortal woman, but few knew that dark places the where the truth goes to hide. Hercules was once married to a beautiful woman named Megara and had many sons. Knowing how much he loved his wife and children and after failing to kill him as a child; Hera sent a psychotic madness upon Hercules. Penetrating his mind, sending him into an unquenchable bloodlust he savagely murdered his wife and children, thus killing his heart instead and taking away everything that Hercules loved. When Hercules finally regained his sensibility, freeing his mind, he realized what he had done to his family. Overcome with grief, he turned to Apollo, a god who could offer healing, knowledge, and prophecy for guidance and aid. Apollo told Hercules that he must serve Eurystheus, king of Tiryns, to make up for his wrongdoings and repent for his sins. Hera, however, was determined to eradicate Hercules from the world and wipe away all proof of Zeus's indiscretion. She deceitfully suggested to Eurystheus that he order Hercules to fulfill twelve impossible labors knowing he would not refuse. Hera believed that he would die attempting to complete these labors, driving the dagger of a vindictive wife into the heart of Zeus. However, wielding the strength of Zeus, no fight, battle, or man had ever defeated him.
Hearing the storytellers, children, and bards sing the lighthearted version of the tales sounded so good. His fame was unmatched by any other mortal, and he knew how to perform and serenade the crowds. The ladies wanted him, and the men wanted to be him. To the masses a hero in both appearance, demeanor, and deeds. However, now at this moment, there was something that Hercules wanted, and it had a curvy waist and supple breasts. Rising from the table crossing the room, Hercules locked eyes with the flirtatious barmaid gesturing with a look for her to follow him as he walked towards the back storage room. Turning to follow him she traced his steps down the dimly lit hallway until suddenly she felt a hand at her waist and another on her wrist pulling her towards a darkened corner room. Pressing her firmly against the wall she could feel the warmth of his large hand pushing up her thigh and the other firmly grasping her breast. She looked into his eyes noticing how hollow they looked in the darkness.
Questioning her actions, she tried to slightly push him away. "Calm down hero, you don't have to be so rough. Not all of us are built like a Nemean Lion." Closing the small distance, he pressed even harder into her against the wall causing the wooden paneling behind her to groan and splinter under the strain. "I thought you Thessalonians like us bad boys?" Firmly grasping at her tunic, he ripped away the cloth that separated the flesh of his hand from that of her chest. "You're hurting me. Stop! You're hurting me, I said. What's wrong with you, are you mad?" Suddenly Hercules's whole body paused as that last word echoed into the depths of his mind. A cold rushing shiver was sent down his spine.
Holding her body in place, he slowly leaned closer to her ear and whispered the most terrifying words she could've ever imagined coming from what she had thought to be such a glamorous hero. A moment of what was sure to be passion had become her nightmare. "You see the thing about madness is even though it may be fleeting, it never strays too far from my mind. In a completely sane world, madness is the only freedom." With a quickness she hadn't witnessed before, he slid his hand from her breast to her throat gripping it firmly. Aligning her eyes so that they locked onto his, "You'll live a little longer if you just stay quiet, either way, is fine by me. Doing a dead girl would be fun, too."
In a moment of self-survival, she thrashed her hand across his face. Pain immediately shot up her arm as the sound of the bones snapping in her wrist echoed in his ears. Souring the cold expression on his face, the outer rims of his lips curved into a sadistic grin. At that moment, she knew she had made a mistake and her vanity would cost her severely. Her mind searching for an escape craving for a miracle to intervene on her behalf, a voice suddenly rang out through the hall. "Hercules, patriarchy has sent for you. They request your presence immediately." Hercules turned his head to see a young man standing in the light of the hall sporting green armor befitting the kind only the royal guard would wear.
Dissatisfied, he grunted and lowered the poor girl to the ground. Once on her feet under the weight of her own body, she collapsed to the ground sobbing profusely, slowly looking up at him. "Don't worry dear child, you're lucky I was here to save you from what was sure to be a disastrous fall. Aren't I the merciful hero?" Barbarically staring down into her near soulless eyes with burning intensity awaiting her response. All she managed to sputter out between the muffled cries was "Yes my lord." With that, he turned back the way he had come leaving her in the darkness crumbled in sadness, another broken innocent soul.
Walking up the pearl-encased steps, Hercules could hear the crowds gathering on either side chanting his name with women throwing roses to his feet. Drinking in the adoration like it was an aphrodisiac throwing back kisses to the crowd, stopping momentarily to hold a heroic pose for the masses. Looking up eyeing the luxurious oak double doors decorated with limestone and marble depicting various triumphs of the Gods. "What a precarious way to attract the attention and favor of the Gods. Maybe I should try it sometime." Keeping a steady pace Hercules followed the guard and entered what appeared to be a room for parliament. "Wait here, my lord.", ordered the guard as he left and took his place at his post outside of the room. Within a few seconds, a man and woman entered the room. Staring at them both, it was obvious they had never known hardship. They were both dressed in clean white silk robes adorned with jewels and hands that appeared softer than a newborn's with no shortage of gold rings. Looking into their eyes, however, they were distraught with stress and pain. "Hercules I'm glad you have decided to answer our summons." Narrowing his gaze Hercules turned and spit in disgust on the carpeted floor, "Didn't have much of choice when your summons comes in the form of armed guard willing to kiss your ass for one of those fancy rings."
Releasing her hand, the gentleman moved closer approaching Hercules pacing around the room with an intensity that could have set the velvet furnishing ablaze. "My name is Solis, This is my wife Maria, and we require a hero of your caliber. Our daughter has been taken during the night by a psychopath known for terror and chaos in our city. Only a message of ransom for five thousand gold pieces was left where she slept." Leaning against the bookshelf with a look of clear boredom and annoyance, Hercules began to slowly pull one book at a time from the shelf and toss it to the floor. She looked at her husband in disbelief at the current display of disrespect wanting to speak only to be dismissed with a shooshing wave of her husband's finger. "I'm surprised you can't find a solution in one of these mysterious books. You can obviously afford a solution so why is it you need the son of Zeus?" Willfully ignoring her husband's dismissal, she was completely drawn to the large legendary figure. With a cry that only a mother is capable of she finally spoke. "She is our only child; she is my daughter, and she is betrothed to be the future queen of this city. She must be returned to us at once." Tossing the last remaining book from the shelf over his shoulder to the ground as he turned to acknowledge her, his face was without emotion staring at clearly a desperate woman on the edge. The thought of someone who has everything that has now been reduced to this welp of a human being delighted him. Grinning defiantly, it was clear that despite their wealth and position, they were aware that in his presence they shared the status of the lowest peasant. They were nothing more than roaches awaiting a boot.
"Beg me." The sound of this comment was cold and sharp as both appeared to have been injured by the words. Swiftly walking back to his wife and retaking her hand, they both looked at him in disbelief. "What did you say?" The curvature of the edges of his mouth twisted deeper into his insult, and with a glare, he repeated himself. "BEG ME. You seem to want her back desperately. Don't tell me that you hold the value of your pride higher than that of your daughter." The couple looked shakenly at each other nodding and began to lower themselves to embrace the disgrace the ground had to offer. Both looking up to meet his gaze spoke in unison to plead with the now giant towering above them for aid. "Please, we beg of you to return our daughter to us." Sadistically, enjoying this moment of his creation, he dismissed their plea raising a hand covering his face and laughing at the mockery of the situation.
Finally, he managed to quell his laughter to provide the answer they awaited. "I'll fetch your daughter for half of the ransom. Have it ready when I return and don't test my patience. It's one of the few things greatly exaggerated in the tales passed through this shit city." Letting their gaze fall back to the floor they nodded in agreement letting Hercules push in between them setting his path to depart. Looking back briefly without breaking stride, "Where?" in a voice that echoed through the empty halls. "In the villa just outside of the city. A man named Rourke has her." Picking up his pace to a slight jog, Hercules trotted out of the great palace and down the steps, listening to the crowd still cheering for him blissfully in acknowledgment that he was off to his next measure of heroism. Making his way down through the dusty streets, maintaining his heroic pace, he could hear the crowd's cheers begin to die off in the distance. Exiting the large silver gates of the city, tensing every muscle in his legs, the speed of his strides increased. Fifteen miles disappeared behind.
Growing closer to the villa the smell of manure, piss, and booze was rank and hung in the air. Clearly, peasants were too high a compliment to give them. One man stood guard at the gate dressed in simple chain mail that hung from his body made to fit a man twice his size and lazily leaning against a pike. He was a guard from the city that had the look of a man forgotten. Suddenly realizing he was engulfed in Hercules's shadow he jolted upright and asked, "Who goes there, who is it?" Sneering down at the small man in disgust and pity, "Get out of my way, I'm here on business and it's not with you." Slow to realize who was casting such a vast shadow, the guard shuffled back a step defensively and pointed the tip of his pike toward Hercules. "No one enters without permission; this area is off limits without expressed permission of the parliament." Scoffing, Hercules reached forward grabbed the tip of the pike, snapping it off, and began to pick at his teeth. " Move! I won't ask again."
The man began to uncontrollably quiver in fear at his futile attempt to challenge the son of Zeus, but as much as he would have liked to step aside his legs would not respond to his calling. "You can't be here; I've received no authority to allow you to pass. You must have permission to..." Before he could finish the sentence Hercules's large hand was around his throat closing ever tighter with each passing second. "I am the son of Zeus; I go where I please, I do as I please. Who are you to refute my authority to be here or anywhere of my choosing." Hercules's eyes grew wide as he felt the man squirm, dangling in the air clawing at his grasp. Staring at the life slowly begin to fade from his eyes, Hercules let out a scream that would have terrified the most battle-hardened berserker and closed his grip completely. A rushing explosion of blood erupted, drenching him from head to toe as he now only held the man's head as the fleshy body that was attached had now fallen into the dirt. "Hmm, not much of spine in there after all." With that, he tossed the man's head off into the weeds. Turning back to the gate, he kicked it open relentlessly, parting it from the metal clasps, and sent it hurtling through the nearest house causing panicked screams to rupture out from within.
The cawing of crows and buzzards circling above mixed with the sounds of savagery below as the menacing 'hero' tore through the town below. In a rage equivalent to the psychotic break that led to the death of his wife and children, Hercules tore through every man, woman, and child that crossed him as he carved a path bathing in blood, making his way to the house at the center of the villa. "Rourke! Come face me and take your chance at seizing glory. Are you the man to defeat me?" Out the door walked a man that stood at a height almost tall enough to look Hercules in the eye. He wore nothing more than a pair of plain-looking pants with holes torn into the knees and a shirt that had sleeves rolled back to the elbows. Pointing a dagger in the direction of his guest he seemed to completely ignore the carnage and fire of the town around him. "Didn't know they would send a demi-god to reclaim my treasure."
Gritting and flashing his teeth in response as a snake would before it strikes, "I get paid whether you live or not so, let's make this easy. Where's the girl?" Waving the dagger back and forth as if to emphasize each word with a flashy gesture letting the steel dance through the air. "She's inside, cozy, comfy, and not going anywhere. I will let her know you stopped by." Thrusting his hand forward slicing through the air using his hand gesture to sarcastically emphasize his own words, "Hard way it is then, let me see what's so terrifying that makes everyone piss their beds at night. The first move is yours as a sign of sportsmanship." Arrogantly smirking down at the cold hard ground, he instantly launched himself forward landing only a few paces from the heroic figure. Leading with the blade striking with the intent to pierce the heart of the champion. Shifting his stance to the side, the wild attack was easily avoided. Quickly retaliating the goliath swung both his massive arms delivering a malicious booming clap of his hands to the sides of Rourke's head immediately causing it to burst. Looking down at his blood-stained hands Hercules shook them free of the debris left from his assault. Staring down at the corpse for a moment he observed a streaming wet stain form down the leg of his pitiful foe. "Good to see there's still irony in this world." Turning his head, he spit on the ground at the body and made his way into the building.
Immediately upon entering the home, he saw the beautiful young woman seated at a table. To his surprise, she wasn't bound and didn't have the appearance of a damsel being held against her will. Staring out at the blood-soaked figure a look of dread creased her face. "Where's Rourke?" she managed to call out to him. Standing triumphant as only a hero could with his hands to his waist, he tossed a head nod to the door. "What's left of his body grows colder by the second." A look of shock crossed her face as she folded down into her hands and began to cry. The sounds of her tears falling however weren't relief, but grief instead. "I haven't been kidnapped you murderer! I left to be with him, with my Rourke." Dropping his hands letting the pomp and circumstance of this heroic moment fall to the wayside he let the annoyance of her announcement sink in. The circumstance of her being here made little difference as do most things when gold is involved. "If this isn't a kidnapping then why was there a ransom princess?"
Taking a moment to look up from her hands revealing the tears still falling from her face, she displayed a clear look of anger. "My parents forged it to find a hero to sell their lie to, which makes you either gullible or an idiot." Closing the distance with heavy steps Hercules slammed his hands down on the table causing it to crack under his blow. "Either way the contract is to bring you back. Where you go after that is of little concern to me, but let's go. I won't ask twice." Reaching out to grab her arm she flinched back from the table jumping to her feet instantly realizing that this man regardless of his name was no legendary guardian, but a mercenary. "I'm not going anywhere with you." With that, she began to cry even louder re-enforcing her defiance. "Shut up with all that noise and move your damn feet", he demanded throwing half of the table that separated her from him sending it crashing into the wall. "No!" She screamed and spit in his face. To him time slowed down as he felt the impact of her words and the moisture of her mouth hit him in the face.
"Enough!" he screamed back out at her, swinging his arm and back handing the left side of her face. Spiraling to the ground her body landed slumping to the floor. Locking eyes with her again he demanded that she go with him. Only this time her expression didn't change. No more tears were falling from her eyes or the sounds of muffled cries on her lips, just a blank stare. Stepping forward to grab her wrist and pull her to her feet, he had a sudden realization. Her neck had twisted completely around and whatever breath gave her life was already diminished. Displeased with the outcome he grabbed her limp body by the waist and tossed it across his massive shoulders. Putting no more thought into the situation at hand, he set his sights on his voyage back the way he came to collect his bounty.
Entering back into the illustrious palace and making large strides down the hall he kicked open the set of doors to the room in which his conniving profiteers waited. Their attention immediately snapped to the sound of the doors crashing open to which their surprise turned quickly to disbelief as he flung the lifeless corpse of their beloved across the table. "Here is your trophy, where is my payment?" Her face still in shock, Maria cradled the head of her baby girl and sobbed hysterically. Solis turned to face him frantically trying to piece together what had happened. "Rourke snapped her neck in front of me before giving up his lover. Had you not lied to me I could have attempted her rescue well enough equipped to save her. Her death is on your hands." Ignoring the hysteria of her mother refusing to relinquish her hold of the body, Solis escorted Hercules into the hall. "Equipped or not your Hercules, this should have been a simple task for someone of your status." Looking back at this little frail man Hercules could feel his mind slipping back into madness. "I'll take my gold now. Our arrangement is settled, you asked for your daughter and there she is. I never said I would return her alive." Tensing his stance, he was now standing directly next to Solis towering over him. Resting his hand on his shoulder he began to squeeze at his collarbone and could feel him wince under the pressure of his grip. Emphasizing every word very slowly to ensure nothing was misunderstood. "Either pay your debt to me or your daughter isn't the only thing you love that will become a corpse today." Letting his gaze drop to the floor as a final sign of submission, "Your payment will be waiting for you at your chariot by sunset." Releasing his shoulder Hercules made his way down the hall and back out the front doors letting them close with a final cold chill of the breeze sifting through the air.
The night began to fall as he approached his chariot and could see the gleam of bags full of gold. Gathering the necessary materials required for a fire, he sat next to the pile of wood and moss ready to strike a spark to ignite it. Striking the flint and steel a few times sent sparks forward which fizzled out turning his efforts into futility. Turning to give up he tossed the two back toward his chariot. Surprisingly the simple pile of sticks erupted into a blazing inferno and sitting across from him was a large man that made him feel small and insignificant. "Hello, Father." Zeus himself sat relaxed on a stone across from his son. "What do you want father, the price of your company isn't known to be free. Last I checked, your back had turned from me." Slowly reaching down and picking up a handful of straw, splitting each one into smaller pieces, Zeus hurled them like miniature thunderbolts into the inferno. "You've squandered your name here amongst the mortals and have become more of a burden to them. I offer a way for you to step back into the light that will reunite you with your family in Olympus and permanently ensure that you are my successor." Hercules's eyes were fixated on the King letting his ambition fumble over every word. In his heart of hearts, it was the only thing he had ever wanted...Acceptance. "What, how?" was all he managed to sputter out as he was not usually the one left short of words. Shifting posture to aggressively lean in towards his son, his words were stern and direct, "One final trial, labor if you will, but not in the service of Hera. This one is personal to me and will ensure that you have a kingdom to inherit."
495Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRpg6RtC1nc
495Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHAmiIpmnNr
