by elda lore
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 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 between 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 thoug
ht. 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.
“This is my room.”
Her face turned away from me and her eyes roamed the minimally furnished space again.
“It’s rather dark in here. What time is it?”
My hand came to my left pec, over my heart. “It’s after three in the morning. That’s nearly mid-day for me.” She stared at me and I realized I had so much to share, and no way to know where to start.
“Are you a vampire or something?” One eyebrow rose, lifting a corner of her rosy lip with it.
“God, no,” I breathed. I shuddered at the thought of drinking her blood. I wasn’t a vulture. On that note, something squawked in the corner of my room. The large black bird rolled its head in the direction of our visitor; its small, beady eyes assessed her.
“Is that a crow?” She sat back in horror, her hands braced behind her as she stared at my pet. Her head pulled back like the bird might attack her.
“She’s a raven.”
“What’s her name?” Her eyes hadn’t left the bird and the blonde tilted her head. The bird followed suit, mimicking the twist.
“Ray.”
My guest spun her head to face me. Her lips twitched. Her dark eyes gleamed. Suddenly, her mouth parted and she laughed. A glorious sound filled my room and I stepped back in surprise. My hands jutted out from my side, palms opening flat as if to brace myself. The noise flittered around the bed and rose to the dome ceiling of my space, flapping and fluttering. I looked upward, as if I could see it flying and floating around the darkness, illuminating the black with the very melody. I returned to stare at the creature making such a sound to find her bent over at the waist. One arm around her middle, the other braced over her mouth.
Don’t hold it in, I thought at the same time she apologized.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head and her hair danced over her thin shoulders. “That’s not a very original name.” Her hand lowered and those lips curved upward, forcing her eyes to gleam and her face to pink. She smiled at me and heat, a temperature unfamiliar to me, rushed through me. Welcoming the warmth, I felt my lips curve to match hers, as if the motion of her mouth called out for a response from mine. If I wasn’t already dead, I knew it that moment, she would be the death of me.
The Dress
[Persephone]
“Persephone. Persephone Fields, that’s my name,” I offered, sharing my name in hopes of easing my trembling body. His presence unnerved me. One moment, he was my savior; the next, I believed I was his prisoner.
I awoke in his bed, my legs layered in seductively silky black sheets. The smooth sensation over my skin was sinful, making me aware I slept only in a T-shirt. His. The scent surrounding me included a woody mixture of cedars and pines. Everything around me was dark: walls, bed, shades, even his pet bird, Ray. And him. Dressed head to toe in black again, his bluish skin glowed against the fabric. His face was hideous in some manners. The scar from brow to jaw and the white slash across his lips reminded me of Edward Scissorhands. His longish black hair hung wildly untamed compared to the slicked back appearance after we beat the rainstorm. Awareness came to me.
“Where did you sleep?” Panic seized me. Did he share the bed with me? I looked around for evidence the bed held a partner overnight. His lip curled on one side, and the look endeared me a bit to him despite the white scar.
“I told you, it’s practically mid-day for me.” The momentary panic released slowly through my body mixing with a strange sense of disappointment. How could I be upset that he hadn’t slept with me? I scolded internally. The bizarreness of my evening surely rattled logical thought and I told myself to relish the relief.
“Do you not sleep?” My curiosity piqued at this strange person who looked every bit like a man, despite the blue color.
“I do.” His lip curved further but he offered no additional information and silence fell between us.
“I didn’t thank you for saving me. I appreciate you letting me stay here.” My voice shook. “But I wondered when you’d be taking me home?” My lower lip quivered and I bit it to still. I didn’t want to cry. Silly tears would spill forth when I was frightened, and I wasn’t exactly afraid. Lacking any fear he would harm me, I worried about something larger, deeper.
“You will be taking me home, right?” The absence of his answer forced me to question him again. His head lowered and one of his strange hands combed through his hair.
“I can’t.”
“Excuse me?” I couldn’t have heard him correctly.
“I can’t. I can’t let you leave.”
“Let me leave?” I repeated in confusion. My heart galloped. “What do mean ‘let me leave’?”
Sapphire blue eyes stared back at me, trying to communicate something I couldn’t read. When another tear slipped from my eye, he stepped toward the bed. I leaned back, dragging the sinful sheets over my chest as a shield. He froze. His eyes softened, flinching in surprise.
“I won’t hurt you.” His hands rose forward in surrender. His fingers were long and blue like all his other skin I’d seen, but the dark thickness of his nails distracted me with curiosity. Was he not human after all? The nails looked like clipped claws on a dog, solid and blunt, but longer than normal and black.
“But you won’t let me leave?” My eyes widened as I pressed into the headboard behind me.
“It’s complicated.” His voice sounded chagrin. “You can’t go back.”
I stared, and the striking contrast of his blue fingers swiped through his jet black hair again.
“I’m not explaining this well,” he muttered to himse
lf, looking in the direction of his raven, as if the bird could offer him guidance.
“Who are you?” What are you? I wondered. His strange skin tone. Those thick nails. His piercing eyes. I’d clearly hit my head and entered another world. He couldn’t be real. The cavern had to be a messed-up dream. My imagination was definitely playing tricks on me. I just wanted to go home.
“Am I…am I a prisoner?” My teeth chattered with cold fear.
“No. No, no…” he assured, taking another step toward me but I cowered back against the headboard. My feet scrambled under the sheets and my knees drew upward. The black material clung nearly to my chin as if it could be of any protection.
“No. You’re not a prisoner. You’re…you’re my guest.” His blue lip curled wider. The forced smile and friendly label did not reassure me.
“Why? I’ve thanked you for your kindness, but I want to go home.”
He approached the side of the bed and sat on the edge. I tried to hold firm against his nearness, but couldn’t suppress the evident flinch. He angled away from me, his body hunched forward so his elbows rested on his knees. His head hung, but he looked at me.
“Once you come forward, you can’t go back, Persephone. It doesn’t work that way here.”
“Where am I?” My lips quaked.
“Officially, this is Hades Emporium.”
“The new resort?” My voice squeaked. The casino and resort stood as a new imposing eyesore in the growing development of the city on the edge of our property. Hoping to earn a reputation for exploratory sin in the middle of the country, at affordable pricing, the new hotel offered penthouse suites, private parties, and an experience you’d never forget. I hadn’t been inside the casino for several reasons, the first of which was I wasn’t old enough until this past March when I turned twenty-one. The new resort held no temptation for me, unlike Tripper and Swanson, who were lured often to the promised seduction within.