Medusa

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Medusa Page 2

by RK Wheeler


  The monster swung its long, clawed, hand towards Medusa’s throat.

  For the briefest moment, Lilith’s eyes met the fearful stare of her daughter. Lilith tried to convey all of her love to her child in that one terrible second. Medusa’s gaze turned back to the bloodied claw that approached, an unavoidable doom.

  “No!” Lilith cried out in anguish.

  The air paused in its journey, as if the world itself were gasping at the impending scene. The lull caused the leaves on the trees at the top of the cliffs to go silent. The great owl on the dead branches near the pond turned its feathered head to look upon the field of strife. A shooting star streaked across the starry sky as it died in the earth’s breath.

  The werewolf’s long arm slowed in its swing finally stopping only inches from Medusa’s neck. A terrible cry came from the creature’s throat until its vocal cords turned to stone. The leg that Lilith clung to hardened and fused to the rock of the quarry. The dark, coarse hair began to change until it appeared like granite. Last to turn were the crazed, red eyes as they faded to grey.

  CHAPTER 3

  Medusa, slithered down the cold, dark, passageway to the outer gate which led to the quarry. The guards were gone. Only Adonis was there. She almost missed him in the shadows until she looked up. There he hung from the ceiling at the top of the chamber, just above the gate. He held a great two handed sword by the pommel in both hands with the point touching the stone roof. His eyes were closed. He did not breathe.

  Medusa paused.

  I wish I could do that. Climb the walls and hang from the ceiling.

  “Be back before dark young one.” Adonis stated.

  His eyes opened now in the dim light as he smiled at Medusa.

  “Yes I know, Mother was quite clear about that.”

  Adonis held a special place for Medusa. He, after all was the father of her two half-sisters. He and mother had parted company after they were born. Mother had never really gotten over Lamech it seemed, and Adonis, though loyal had moved north and there he found Fistinia. It was a mutual arrangement it seemed to part ways, and Mother did not seem distraught by his new lover.

  I suppose he is the closest thing to a father that I have known although he is rarely in Athens. I do hope Mother finds love again one day. Medusa thought to herself.

  Adonis dropped down to the floor and smiled at Medusa before removing the large crossbar. He turned the locks to open the metal gate with a creek and reverberating clicks. He was careful to stay in the door’s shadow as he pulled it open while turning his head away from the light.

  “Knock thrice when you return, understood?”

  Medusa nodded in understanding. She shielded her eyes as she made her way into the warm sunshine. As her eyes grew accustomed to the lack of darkness everything came into focus. Before her was the frightening image of the towering werewolf turned to stone. She almost turned back as she saw it. The clawed hand seemed to reach for her. Crazed eyes and the snarling fanged mouth was agape. The eyes glared threateningly. But it was as grey and hard as the stone upon which it stood.

  She started forward, making a wide ark around the frozen image. She heard the gate close and the locks click into place. Somehow this made her feel vulnerable and alone despite the light beaming overhead. She glanced back wearily, but the statue had not moved. It had remained in place for over three weeks. And why should it be any different than anyone else that she had ever gazed upon that was not of the coven? None of the beings that had ever started at her had ever moved again.

  The teenage daughter of vampires took reassurance in this as she made her way past the pond and the half-nude sculpture of Zeus lying upon his stone couch. The owl was not on his perch this afternoon.

  Just as well. The owl kind of creeps me out.

  Medusa made her way to the room with the long curtains until she reached the last cell.

  “Paleus, it’s me.”

  “Where have you been? After the terrible sounds of battle and when you did not return I had thought the worst. What happened that night several weeks ago?”

  “My family was attacked by these terrible creatures. They are like great hairy wolves, yet they are also like a man in that they can walk on two legs and their front legs are more like arms with clawed hands. Although their eyes bleed a type of madness, there is some intelligence there as well. I was worried about you and the other boys. I was told that the beast passed the cells by as it tried to escape.”

  “Yes, I did not see it, but now that you describe it I am grateful that I have not had to dream of such a creature. The smell as it passed by and the sounds of its labored breathing and growling was enough to send me against the far wall of my cell.”

  Medusa stood by the break in the curtains once more where two pieces of fabric nestled gently side by side. She brought her hand between them and extended her arm across her waist, pressing the fabric against her body.

  Paleus noted the lithe shapeliness of her silhouette and the beauty of her arm. Only near the shoulder did the color change from a normal crème color to more of a shadowed greenish tinge. There, where the color changed, were scales that grew thicker and more of a solid texture as it came closer to the shoulder itself.

  “Paleus are you ok? You can see my arm and you are still ok?”

  Medusa was startled when she felt his hand upon her own. She shivered as his warm skin ran its way up her arm. She started to pull away when it reached the scales near her shoulder, but his hands now clasped both her shoulders, one through the thick fabric and the other that he could see.

  “It’s ok. You have a beautiful arm and I am unharmed.”

  The sensation of being touched by another, not her mother or her sisters, but being touched by someone that was interested in her and not afraid of her…it was like little feathers being brushed across her skin. She flushed as the blood ran more rapidly through her body as her heart pounded faster against her chest.

  She reached out with her right hand while his own still cradled her shoulders and she found first the cold bars and then the touch of his cheek. She tried to visualize the handsome young man that she watched longingly by night while he slept or by day as he ran and jumped. She felt his hair and the brown curls as they slipped between her fingers, like soft serpents of his own. Her fingers gently ran across his lips and then down his neck to his chest where her palm rested contently. She felt the beat of his heart and the rise and fall of his breast with each breath.

  She leaned forward, the form of her face pressing against the fabric as she imagined kissing him.

  “Come out, let me see you know.”

  All of her senses threatened to overwhelm her caution as she desired nothing more in this moment than to kiss him. She gathered her passion about her as she prepared to fling the drape aside, to once and for all confront her fear and insecurities! But at last her feelings for Paleus and his well-being overcame her passion and she pulled away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just can’t. I can’t take a chance with you. I can’t lose you like all the others!” Medusa cried out.

  She crossed her arms about herself as she backed away from the curtain.

  “What is it? Do you think I will mock you? Do you think you would hurt me? I have touched your beautiful skin, and yes you are different near your shoulders, but it is nothing. I happen to love serpents, at least the ones that are not poisonous.”

  “Look and see what happens to those who see my face.” Medusa pulled the curtain back far enough for Paleus to see down the hallway that was normally closed off whenever the boys were released from their cells.

  There were five statues of boys who Paleus recognized. These were boys who he had played with, wrestled with, and joked with, but one day they never came back. He had asked about them, but was only told they were released from their bondage. Each was frozen with a look of terror upon their face as if they were carved by the finest sculptor’s hands. Even the
ir clothes were a perfect stony replica of how they had appeared the last time that he had seen them.

  Paleus stepped back from the bars and the curtain.

  Medusa released the curtain until it swung back into its favored place next to its companion.

  “You see? I cannot take the chance that you would turn to stone. I just can’t. You are different and mother has been experimenting with each of these boys. Combining magic charms with some of her blood, but so far none of those have been saved from my gaze.”

  “I..I don’t know what to say Medusa.”

  “We will talk more about it tomorrow ok?”

  “Yea sure…there must be a way.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you a treat.”

  “What is it?

  “Honeycomb.”

  Medusa slid the bowl full of golden honey and clean white comb shaped in perfect closed hexagon chambers, carefully between the two curtains. She leaned her head to one side, careful to keep it away from the opening.

  “Thank you. I haven’t had anything sweet in some time. Goodnight Medusa.”

  “Goodnight Paleus.”

  Medusa made her way past the passage with the stone statues of the boys and shut the door. She did not want to see them again.

  Her serpentine tale curved left and right as it propelled her forward with only the softest of sounds of the scales over stone. She had stayed a bit too long, the sun had set. As she approached the backside of the long stone that formed the carving of Zeus, she noticed the moon over the edge of the cliff. It was full again. The owl turned to look at her suddenly. Its luminescent eyes mirrored her own, except the pupils.

  The owl suddenly flew away towards the image of the moon; its silhouette was highlighted against the white disc. The sound of falling rocks echoed within the quarry and then went silent. Medusa scanned the perimeter. The owl descended quickly and then flew off once more with a snake caught in its talons. Medusa shivered at the image.

  She looked behind her and there was nothing to be seen between her and the crypts. She considered going back. She might wait there and would be missed eventually. Adonis or her mother would come searching for her in time.

  But the mortal guards would return from their post in the cemetery and she could not be there when they did so or they would be turned to stone. No, she must make the trek to the far side…past the statue.

  There was a small hill between where she stood and the gate that led to the mansion. She started forward but just as she crested the rise, she stopped suddenly. She clapped her hands to her mouth as she stared. The snakes upon her head coiled and hissed.

  The werewolf was gone.

  RK Wheeler is a physician by day and a writer by night. He enjoys beekeeping, writing, travel and family time. For more about Medusa and her family look for The Witch of Endor: Vampires by RK Wheeler available on e-book, paperback and audiobook, narrated by Jas Walker.

 

 

 


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