by Alexia Purdy
“I won’t let anything hurt you,” I whispered. I promised, hoping I could keep it. My large palm pressed stiffly against her curved backbone. I swiped it up then down, pausing at the small of her back. My face lowered and, without her permission, my lips brushed her hair with the faintest of kisses. To my surprise, she didn’t shy away from my touch, allowing me to slowly caress her back, soothing her, in order to calm her fears. The urge to comfort was foreign to me. I should feed off her fear, instead. It’s what I’ve been bred for: fear and death. Humans learned to be afraid of it. They shy away from experiences that could cause it. They cry out at the discovery of its nearness. They curse the inevitable potential of it.
But this alluring girl took calming breaths in reaction to my touch, willing me to look at her as she stared up at my face. Her eyes pleaded with me to release her, but I could not let her go. I’d seen her before when I took nightly rides through the thick woods along the edge of the city’s growing property. Her blonde hair glowed in the darkness, especially under cascading moonlight. She reminded me of a firefly. Her spiraling giggles flittering through the sky as she jumped and swam in the river. That head of bright hair disappearing under the inky liquid only to pop-up with glistening droplets of water enhancing the color. She glowed with her fragile, pale skin, and tonight’s display of white bra and matching underwear only magnified the ethereal effects of her innocence.
I’d been watching as she frolicked with her two friends, their laughter and their conversations echoing over the water, a natural carrier of sound. At one point, I sensed her eyes in my direction. It would have been impossible for her to see me in my daily uniform of dark jeans, black tee, and black hoodie, but a sensation prickled over me that she had noticed me. She recognized me in the dark shadows, and I stepped forward at first, attracted by her attention. When her focus broke, I pulled farther back into the trees. I don’t know why I waited for their trucks to leave. Mesmerized by the storm, I delayed my departure because of the brilliant display. That’s when I saw her return. She was obviously searching for something at the river’s edge, and then she slipped. I don’t know where he came from. I don’t know why I didn’t sense his presence. I’d been too absorbed in her beauty to notice his approach, and then his attack.
I’d given my warning. I asked nicely. As politely as I could, considering my upbringing. He didn’t heed my command. When he refused to release her, the terror in her eyes spurred me to my baser instincts. Death. I didn’t want to kill him, but I might have. I didn’t stay to inspect him. My overwhelming concern was her, not protocol. The guards on patrol would discover him and bring him to the gate, if necessary.
She tried to run. I secretly applauded her effort. Her gut instinct told her to scramble, crawl, claw her way away from me. That reaction was natural, but if I didn’t protect her, the rain would mislead her or the river would swallow her. I didn’t want to risk either taking her from me. When I hoisted her up to sit before me, the most unnatural emotions crashed over me. Protect. Preserve. Cherish. Opposing emotions from the destroyer I was meant to be. Her warmth. Her beauty. Her grace. My body thrummed with an awareness of her and something else – something totally unrecognizable to me.
We had raced the rain, but I hadn’t wanted it to end. I wanted an excuse to hold her. I didn’t want to lose the elusive feelings stirring inside me, and while the right decision would have been to return her to her friends, I rarely did the right thing. The wrong resolution involved bringing her to the place where I knew the rules, and that’s where we were. Hell. My father’s domain. The empire of sin.
The distortion that shielded the underworld was difficult for humans to detect. A rare few ventured beyond the supernatural barriers. A rarer few survived the river, only to succumb to the madness. The noise proved to be the worst of the sensations experienced here. I’m told it is painful to hear: heartbreak personified. I didn’t know. I didn’t understand the concept of pain. It was an emotion I had never felt—a uniquely human trait.
My palm curved, contouring to her back, then climbed to comb my fingers through her soaked hair. She sat up straighter at the sharp cry within the tunnel. Tugging back gently on her hair, her lids lowered at the sensation, distracting her from the haunting sound. When I abruptly pulled my fingers loose, her lids flipped open. I stared down at her and her breath caught as large, round, bark-colored eyes peered back at me. A cloudy mix of gray and brown, similar to the trunks of trees thick in the woods, swam before me. My hand repeated the caressing motion without thought. Base of back, up the spine, spread the fingers, comb her hair. Her lids involuntarily closed again.
“Do you like that?” I spoke softly to her, keeping my tone low in hopes it would calm my own fear at what I’d done. Her only response was a startling soft purr of appreciation. My lips skimmed lightly over her forehead. A rare smile tugged at my scarred lips.
“Who are you?” Her meek voice cracked something inside me.
“I want to please you.” Murmuring the words, I didn’t think I’d said them loud enough for her to hear. She abruptly pulled back, her mouth popping open to ask me something, but we arrived at our first trial in my decision to bring her here. I sat straighter, my demeanor shifting. My hand slipped to the small of her back and she followed my gaze. The tunnel opened into a dark pit of moving shadows and vaguely outlined forms. Everything looked like it slithered and writhed, as if the walls were alive, breathing, pulsing in an erratic rhythm.
“Where are we?” Her eyes roamed for something she wouldn’t exactly see: an explanation for the sound. Wanting to logically understand what spurred the cries, she used another sense to justify it. Her eyesight searched the space; however, it could not capture the sound’s source. Afraid she wouldn’t be able to resist the noise, and survive until I crossed the cavern, I offered an explanation.
“I need you to follow my instructions.” Her breath held.
“First, breathe,” I whispered. Her body relaxed slightly as the air exhaled from her perky nose and she took the necessary inhale.
“That sound you hear? It will torture your human ears as we ride, messing with your mind. The only way to pass the cavern is to cross through it. I need you to cover your ears as best you can, however you see fit. Rid your mind of sound, if you have the power to do so.”
Her slender body trembled against mine. Her skin was chilled from both the heavy rain, the tumble in the river, and the nearness of me. My body didn’t register the coolness of the cave, but I’d been told the air was cold. In opposition, humans were warm. Her doe-like eyes widened. With a simple nod, she acknowledged her understanding. My hand continued to caress her back while I spoke, from both a need to touch her and a desire to keep her calm. She pressed her left ear against my damp T-shirt; a sudden stethoscope to the sound of my unusual heart rate. Her arm slipped inside my hoodie and wrapped around my back. Her palm flattened against the base. I stiffened under her touch, sitting straighter, forcing myself upright.
“Don’t look either, if you can avoid it.” Humans loved to stare at what scared them. I’d noticed this from my occasional observation of them. They searched for visual answers to the unknown. They witnessed horror while they shrieked away from it. It was a strange trait. Life must be a constant horror movie.
She took the opposite side of my hoodie and dragged it over her face, giving the appearance of nestling into my chest, as if she wished to crawl inside of me. My heart ticked erratically. She plastered the fabric to her ear and placed a flat hand over it to hold it in place. Without thought, my lips had a will of their own and kissed the top of her head as I had done moments ago. I inhaled her scent. She was fresh air and sunshine, something I hardly ever smelled. Her cheeks flushed a rosy color, so opposite the light blue of mine. Our differences intrigued me. She intrigued me.
“Here we go,” I whispered, hoping she couldn’t hear me anymore than she could hear the screams of those within this holding place: the Cavern of Decisions. A purgatorial state caught betw
een two directions. Did a person suffer for eternity or atone and rise up? For those unfortunate few who remained on the cusp of Indecision, this was where they passed their time. Hopeful redemption or everlasting damnation. A rebirth or a dead end.
Her body trembled harder as I spurred Killer into a brisk canter through the several inches of water that covered the base of the cave. To stop her shuddering, I stilled my hand and wrapped my arm tighter around her smaller frame. Comforting her. My body lacked the heat to dispel her chill. I didn’t typically attend to other’s needs. That was not my role. Humans served me. They prayed to me, but I silently willed my intriguing companion to persevere, to make it through this underpass. I wanted more time with her, and for that, she had to survive. I had to figure out this unnameable attraction that drew me to her. Her fingers clenched at the back of my tee and I squeezed her reassuringly against me. My mouth lowered and I silently whispered sweet things into her hair while her face hid inside my sweatshirt.
“Only a few more feet.” Hold onto to me. Hold tight for me, I willed. A loner my long existence, why was I suddenly covetous of the need to protect her? To touch her?
We crossed those final yards while Killer danced in rhythm with the eerie sounds. She had squirmed and flinched, as if inflicted with pain. Her quiet whimpers resounded in my ears louder than the cries of those suffering along the walls. A girl headstrong and bold in her commands to return her to her friends, she had cowered against me in struggling defiance to the sounds. As we approached thick, stone steps to the lower level, we climbed to the stable. The noise dissipated behind us. I halted Killer inside the open stable entrance while Hector, the stable master, approached to take the reins.
“I’ll need you to cool him down tonight,” I said. “We’ve had a hard run in a violent rain. He shifted to accommodate some changes, so extra treats as well.”
I typically cared for my own mount after such exercise, finding the actions calming in my own right. Hector nodded. A green-gray being the color of bile, Hector looked like a miniature ogre. His bulbous head and rounded body, while jovial in appearance, hid a severe sharpness of hunger and greed. His yellowed eyes traveled over the strange bundle braced between my legs.
“A treat for your father,” he asked, his tongue slithering over the possibility of a delicacy. “Hmmm. She’s delectable. She smells divine.” His eggplant shaped nose twitched at the scent of my catch. He craved the delicious warm organs of those newly retrieved and brought to the underworld. Something my father disapproved of, but dismissed, as Hector’s loyalty to the realm allowed my father to look the other way at the vulgarity. Most creatures below did not share Hector’s tastes.
“This one’s for me.” My hand rubbed possessively up her curled spine. My eyes narrowed, reinforcing my possession. I drew her closer to me, fearing Hector could sense how very warm her organs were inside her.
“We’re here now,” I offered, trying to pry her hand from the cotton and remove her head from inside my hoodie. Tugging her hand free, her head shot upward and instantly her arms wrapped around my neck. Her hold was fierce as the upper half of her body pressed flat against mine. Her breasts crushed my chest and the erratic rhythm stuttered in opposition to mine.
“Don’t let them take me,” she whimpered under my ear, her breath warm and tickling. My comforting hand circled over her back. The sensation of a beating heart so near my different one, forced oxygen to rush out of me. How strange to hold a human being, and feel the rhythm of her heart, near the ample swell of her breast, pressed against my chest. The rapid beat centered my curiosity. I excused its drumming as fear. She was afraid of the noise, Hector’s taste buds, and possibly me, but hope sprang inside me that the meter of her heart could be something else. I had felt passion before—lust actually—but it wasn’t like this. This emotion in me was stronger, symphonic even, compared to one strum of a note. Could this be desire?
“I’d never let them take you.” I couldn’t fully assure her with those words, but her time was not yet expired. This much I knew as truth. She didn’t loosen her hold and my other hand came to her waist. For the briefest of seconds, I sensed our position appeared as an embrace. How strange would it be to hold a human in an intimate manner? The thought released instantly as impossible, and I tried to press her back. Her grip only tightened, positioning her body awkwardly in a twist as her legs still straddled my horse.
“We need to get off Killer now,” I encouraged, holding her waist, ready to pass her down to Hector. She refused to release me. My eyes searched Hector’s for support.
“What do I do?” I mouthed to the stable master. He shrugged one shoulder, his eyes focused on the grip of my prize around my neck. He pursed his lips in unanswering question. I decided I’d have to slip off the horse with her still attached to me. I guided one of her legs over Killer, along with mine. The shift angled us to slide down the side of my large quarter horse stallion. Several things happened at once. She twisted her body so her legs wrapped around my waist with equal force to her arms clutching my neck. We started to slip off Killer before I was ready, and as we fell, I spun us so she landed on me.
“Uhmph….” The sound escaped along with the thud of my body on the limestone floor. Her slender form thumped on top of me. We lay there for a few moments, the wind knocked out of me and her blanketing me, while I stared up at the dark ceiling of the stable. My hands found the will to move and came to her hips. Her head popped up and the twinkle of her bark-colored eyes stole my breath again.
“I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” If it were possible for her choke hold to strangle me, she might have. Her arms loosened and she sat upright directly, straddling me as her torso twisted one way and then the other.
“Where are we?” Her frightened voice quivered for strength.
“These are the stables.” I tried to sit upright, assuming she would move off of me, but she didn’t. She merely scooted backward so she straddled my lap. Our eyes met and my barely beating heart froze. Time might have stopped. Those dark pools begged me to jump in and swim to the depths of her. She didn’t blink as she stared back.
“Your eyes are the most unusual color,” she murmured, narrowing hers in concentration while she inspected mine. I closed them instantly so she couldn’t see them. When I opened one, she still stared, but one side of her mouth crooked upward. The other lid popped up and the hint of a curve to her full lips blinded me. Breaking the connection of our stare, my hands pressed up and down her arms.
“Let me take you upstairs. You’re still soaked.” Her hair dangled down her back, still heavily damp. Not for the first time, I noticed how thin her tank top was or how thoroughly wet it was. And see through: her swollen breasts outlined, erect nipples peaked outward, and my mouth watered like Hector’s, but for a different delicacy from her. Embarrassed at ogling her, I looked away.
“Why don’t you take me home?” Her words whispered on a tremble.
“I can’t.” I couldn’t explain to her yet that once she passed forward, she could not go back. It was very wrong of me to bring her here in her present form. Unacceptable, the word of my father already rang in my ears. But my arms refused to release her, as her presence felt strangely right. Her pressing against me, wrapped around me, left me without rational thought. If humanly alive, I’d struggle in Indecision over the choice I made for her, without her permission. She would remain here. I’d say I was damned for bringing her here, but I was already damned. I couldn’t go any lower.
--
She’d been given a bath and T-shirt of mine while I figured out how to properly clothe her. She lay in the middle of my large bed, covered by black sheets. Her blonde hair sprawled in all directions like a giant sun landed on my pillow. It was the only bright item in the room next to her skin and the rosy shade of her lips. Dark walls, sun blocking shades, black comforter, midnight blue carpet. The world was dark here. Except for her.
I watched her sleep for a long time. Her eyelids fluttered. Her mouth slipped open.
Sweet sounds of peace escaped. Then the torture began. She rolled her head across the pillow, and her beautiful face crumbled in distress. Her legs kicked; her body twisted. Her hair tangled, and her back arched as she curled to her side. “No,” she whimpered. Without the ability to read her mind, I sensed the nightmare haunting her. The man’s attack. The potential fear. The thoughts of what he could have done to her. The images frightened me, and fright was nearly my middle name. There wasn’t anything I could think of that scared me. Other than her. What would I do with her now? I couldn’t simply return her. It didn’t work that way. The river flowed in one direction for humans. She could not swim back up the stream.
I stood at the foot of the bed. Sleep tempted me, and yet I fought it off. I didn’t want to leave her alone and risk her waking, afraid. I longed to climb up next to her and hold her like I held her while we rode my horse, but I feared that would frighten her. Uncertainty threatened to choke me. What would she think of me? I stared down at her, like a centurion, fearing she would vanish if I didn’t keep a watchful eye.
She tossed once more, then sat up in fright. Her hand slapped against her chest. Her breath was exaggerated, ragged and shallow.
“Where am I?” She searched the room. Her brows knitted together, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her lips twisted.
“You?” Her eyes finally landed on me. “So it wasn’t a dream?” She blinked. “Who are you?”
“My name is Hades.”
“What kind of name is that?” she teased, her teeth peeked out to bite her lip.
“My father’s.” Named after him, trained by him, destined for a fate similar to him.
We stared at one another for a moment.