Pandora's Pain

by A. K. Koonce

  No one spoke a word as Zavier’s pulled my body against his. He tucked me close to his hard chest. My hands were held between us, careless and forgotten. Ashton pushed open their door. His eyes were wide, but I couldn’t meet his stare.

  The moment I was inside, their friend Brock walked out of a room on the far wall. He halted in his tracks. His lips parted when his attention fell on the crimson color staining my dress.

  “What the fuck happened to her?”

  It was then I realized why Zeus wanted four. I had found three so easily.

  Brock. He was acting as if Ashton, Zavier, and Brock were already in the box. They’re as good as done in his eyes.

  I hadn’t even considered Brock. Zeus had.

  I shoved out of Zavier’s hands. I stumbled as my hit the floor.

  This had to stop.

  The only way to save them was to leave them. To announce defeat and run out to find miseries I wasn’t too involved with. Run out into the city and claim the first three—four—poor, unsuspecting people I saw and open that fucking tragedy on their lives.

  “I need to go.”

  “You already did that once, and when we found you some weird deja vu shit was going on with a creepy fucking box. You’re not leaving. You’re explaining.” Ashton’s gaze pinned me in place. I stood among the four men.

  Zavier shot Alex a look from the corner of his eye. He seemed to be appraising the man who he was just now seeing as a god.

  Zavier knew. Alex knew.

  Ashton and Brock were completely naïve. And safe.

  “It was really nice meeting you guys.” I gave Brock a confusing, false, and forcefully sweet smile.

  His brow tensed and lowered over his gorgeous eyes.

  My feet skimmed quickly across the floor. When I stepped past Ashton, his grip locked around my upper arm. My lips parted as my eyes met his. Warm fingers skimmed across my skin.

  It took him a minute to find real words to say to me. And when he did, I wasn’t expecting them to be so blunt.

  “I almost fucked you with my best friend. Do you know how much consideration goes into that decision? I don’t just fuck everyone I meet. I certainly don’t talk my friends into joining me.” He had to talk Zavier into that? “I liked you, Hope.” It was a pained and quiet confession. “Don’t walk away from me. Don’t walk away and pretend you’re okay. I know from personal experience what it looks like when someone isn’t okay. And you’re not.”

  A breath shook over my lips. Out of everything, all I could think about was who the hell hurt this man? Who could have harmed him so badly for him to think he and I were alike?

  Silence fell between us.

  For a moment I considered lying to him. To save him I’d lie to him for the rest of my mortal existence.

  But then I didn’t have to.

  “Her name isn’t Hope.” Alex’s deep voice was a low and conspiratorial tone.

  My gaze darted to his and he held it intently as he spoke. “The creepy fucking box is Pandora’s box.” His hand raised, and as if it was being summoned the damn thing appeared right in his palm.

  “What the fuck?” Brock’s quiet question wasn’t a question at all. It was a statement that seemed to sum up what the entire room was feeling.

  “I was imprisoned in the box after I released misery onto the world. Recently the gods offered me a chance to start again.” I couldn’t look at them. Instead, my chin tilted down until I could study the dark thread at the hem of Ashton’s shirt. It became the focus of my attention. “If I claim four lives, four great miseries of this world then I will have earned my freedom.”

  “Us? The gods want you to claim us or they’ll claim you?” Ashton took a small step closer, his body dominating mine.

  “Imprison is a better word,” I mumbled against his intimidating chest.

  The silence of the room began to consume me. It pressed in on me, stealing away my breath as I waited for their response.

  “What if we say fuck the gods and claim you for ourselves?” Ashton’s words startled me.

  My attention swept up to meet his.

  Arrogance clung to him as if he was as sure of me as he was of himself.

  Fuck the gods.

  What an outstanding response. Why hadn’t I thought of that logical argument?

  “Believe it or not, but you can’t just tell the gods to fuck off. They’re not your manager, or your label, or your adoring fucking fans. They’ll kill you for claiming something that belongs to them. Pandora most definitely belongs to the gods.” Alex sounded annoyed and tired of the three men before me.

  He probably was.

  “And who are you in all this?” Ashton’s eyes narrowed as he took notice of the god standing behind us.

  “I’m Alexius.” He didn’t look at Ashton as he said it. His pale gaze held intently on me as he spoke. “I’m responsible for Pandora because I’m the god of all miseries.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The god of all miseries.

  I’d have thought Alex would be more laid back if he was entitled with such a sexy name.

  But I knew that wasn’t what he meant.

  He’s responsible for me because nothing good will come of me. Did the gods know I’d fail? That I couldn’t restore what I’d already irreplaceably broken? I could never fix the world.

  No one could.

  But did they already know I wouldn’t change my future? Did they expect me to fail and that was why the god of all miseries was given to me as a guide?

  “So, it’s us or you?” Ashton’s fingers skimmed down the inside of my arm and a shiver swept through my body from the feel of it.

  The memory of his hands on my body, pushing low down my hips, flashed through my mind.

  “We’re going to figure this out. It’s too late for you to pretend like I’m not involved in this shit. Besides, no one nerds out over contracts and loopholes like Zavier.” A smirk tipped Ashton’s lips as he shot his friend a look.

  We hadn’t even known each other that long, and Ashton was already accepting all my baggage. He wanted to help me when I barely wanted to help myself.

  My heart trembled in my chest. Men this sexy, and sweet, and fearless, really existed?

  Brock, however, took a step back. He practically retreated to his room as if I was trying to drag him right to hell instead of imprisoning him in heaven.

  I couldn’t blame him. He knew nothing about me. Until three minutes ago, he was blissfully unaware of the shithole I was digging around his life.

  “Yeah, I’m going to go back to bed and pretend this shit was just a dream. I have a shoot in a few hours and I can’t be distracted by… whatever the fuck this shit is.”

  Zavier raised his palms at his friend, but Brock quickly shut the door. He was gone almost as soon as he’d arrived.

  “He’s not the best at handling change,” Aston said in an absent tone.

  His fingers carefully tangled with mine. It warmed me in an instant as he held my hand in his.

  “Pull up your laptop and show me all the stuff on Pandora’s box.” Ashton’s fingers released mine and he stalked toward Zavier. The two of them flopped on the couch and pulled out a thin black computer. Keys clicked quickly.

  Not another question was asked. Nothing was said to interrupt the two men’s research of how they were going to fix the mess I’d made so many centuries ago.

  And I just stood there.

  My wide eyes met Alex’s. He was barely inside the room. The door was at his back as he stared dumbly at the two mortals solving all the world’s problems with manmade technology and free wi-fi.

  I had a team now. This was what was going to save me, Alex. Get used to it.

  On quiet steps I made my way over to them. I took a seat on the arm of the soft couch as Ashton hovered over every character Zavier typed in. Screen after screen popped up. Beautiful images of me appeared as well as horrible dark portraits of the miseries that once resided inside my box. Long wispy tendrils of
dark smoke reach out from inside the box. It clawed at the world to get out.

  That’s what they think Zavier and Ashton are? They think there’s a terrible darkness within these men?

  They’re wrong.

  These two beautiful and caring men could never be that.

  Chapter Twenty

  "Pandora?" A firm shake at my shoulders grabbed my attention, and I stirred awake.

  My eyes were stiff with sleep and it took me a few moments to remember everything that had happened.

  Both Ashton and Zavier were looking down at me with concern on their faces, and I could feel an echoed concern in my mind coming in from where Alex is presumably still sitting.

  I groaned and propped myself up. "What happened?"

  "You fell asleep," Ashton offered, his voice soft and soothing.

  "I got that much, I mean since I was asleep."

  "Nothing much. We did a lot of research."

  "And?" I prompted, now much more awake and ready to try break myself free of the gods' hold.

  "What happened to hope?" Ashton asked.

  "That was just a fake name."

  "Not hope the name. Hope, the emotion you left trapped in the box," he corrected.

  "I'm not actually sure," I replied honestly. "I know for sure it wasn't in there while I was." I looked over at Alex, wondering if he had a different experience in there.

  A puzzled look crossed his face. "There wasn't anything in there with me."

  "What about before?" I asked, swallowing nervously.

  "Before?"

  "As in, when I was locked in there before. You must have come to look at me, ridicule me, the rest of it." I wasn't even accusing him of anything, and I was pretty sure he knew that from the expression on his face. But it was also likely true.

  "I didn't notice anyone in there but you," he replied after a moment.

  The words spun around in my head as I tried to make sense of them. There were many versions of my legend but almost all of them had the existence of hope in common. Almost like it was the main part of it. On the flipside, there hadn't been anything in there with me. No miseries. No emotions. Just me. And after the first year, even I hadn't been great company.

  But wait...

  No.

  If hope was in the box and I was in the box, did that mean we were the same thing? No. It couldn't be. Right?

  "Is there...?" Zavier started.

  "No," I responded quickly. "No chance of that at all."

  It took everything I had to ignore Alex's thoughtful look. He clearly thought there might be something to explore in the suggestion, but I refused to believe it. If that was the case, then the only reason I was even still semi-sane was me. And that was enough to snatch away even that small slither of sanity.

  "It might be worth considering," Ashton said.

  "No," I repeated.

  "Fine. How about taking us back to the beginning?" Zavier asked.

  "What do you mean?" Their ideas were enough to make my head spin.

  "I think he means your creation," Alex said softly.

  "I do," Zavier confirmed. "There's so many different legends, it's hard to tell which is which. Maybe there's a clue in how it really happened?"

  I frowned, unsure how I felt about his suggestion. My creation was so long ago that I didn't really think about it much. Saying that, I could remember it perfectly.

  I took a deep breath and, for the first time in my life, I told someone where I came from...

  ***

  The birth of mankind, Ancient Greece

  My skin was slippery as they glided their hands over it, sculpting it into shape and creating what I looked like. I didn't think I was supposed to be aware of what was going on quite yet, but I definitely was, I just couldn't respond. Hopefully they'd explain what they were doing, and who I was, once they were done.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" a male voice asked.

  How did I even know it was male? Or what a male was? There must be something to do with this process that made me just know these things.

  "Of course it is, Hephasitos," a female voice answered. A voice like the one I'd have when I was finally made.

  Hephasitos, god of fire, smiths and craftsmen. Interesting choice to be creating me.

  "I don't know, he just asked for beauty."

  "You know that's not possible. I'm not letting Aphrodite get this one, too," the woman replied. She sounded too smart, like she was up to more than just creation right now.

  "No, because you want her for yourself."

  "Something like that." The woman sounded smug now. Like she was getting her way, and she knew it.

  "I don't think that's a good idea, Athena."

  Athena, goddess of wisdom and warfare. My creators, the two of them. An interesting combination and a slightly concerning one. I wasn't sure how this knowledge was a part of me already, but I knew with certainty that the combination of the two of them was dangerous.

  "Just leave defying father to me," she spat, the venom in the word clearer than ever.

  I wondered what her father had done to her. As far as I could understand, a father was part of her family and would protect her. Not that she sounded like she needed protection. Being the goddess of warfare probably had some perks.

  "Fine."

  They worked in silence for a little longer. With each stroke of their hands, I could feel my sense of self growing stronger. It was almost like each of their movements was creating life within me.

  "Done," Hephastios announced, stepping back.

  "Now what do we do to her?" Athena asked, her curiosity seemingly piqued.

  "The same as anything else made of clay, we put her in the kiln.

  With surprisingly gentle hands, the god picked me up and carried me somewhere. I hoped I'd be able to see when they were done with me.

  Heat rose in front of me, drying out my still slippery skin. It didn't hurt, but it was definitely an irritant. I wasn't sure how long I was left in the heat, but my body dried out, forming the perfectly sculpted lines the two gods had created for me.

  "Is it time?" a voice came after what was likely hours.

  "Yes," a second voice replied

  "Have you got everything we need?"

  "Yes." This time the second voice sounded exasperated.

  Hands gripped onto my sides and lifted me out of the heat. Cool air hit my shell and I almost shivered. Or I would have done if I'd been capable of it.

  "How do we do this?" The first voice, who I was pretty sure was Athena again, sounded as if she was stood to my left.

  "We blow into her mouth," Hephastios replied.

  What did he mean by that? Surely, he wasn't going to...

  My lips tingled as an odd smoke like substance passed over my lips and settled against me. I didn't know what to make of it. The sensation was both foreign and welcome. They repeated the process five times, before announcing it was the final one.

  As that last breath settled, something changed within me. My skin softened. My lungs began to fill with air. Slowly, my eyes blinked open and I discovered two of the most beautiful beings I could have possibly imagined standing in front of me.

  "Welcome to the world, Pandora," Hephastios said with a smile.

  ***

  "And what happened after that?" Ashton asked, a rapt look on his face as he listened to me speak.

  "I played around for a bit. Eating, drinking, fucking—with gods and men alike."

  "Sounds exhausting," Zavier deadpanned.

  Beside me, Alex chuckled. "It was a very different time. There wasn't as much stigma about it as there is now."

  "And after that?" Ashton ignored the other two to ask his question. His jaw clenched as if the imagery wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on.

  "After that she was married off to Epimetheus," Brock interrupted.

  The four of us spun to stare at him, surprised to find him leaning against the door frame of his room. He had a serious look on his face, as if u
nsure what to actually make of us.

  "How long have you been standing there?" Zavier asked, a slight note of accusation in his tone.

  "Long enough. So, Pandora, that's right isn't it?"

  "Yes," I admitted. "Zeus gave me to Prometheus' younger brother to marry."

  "And gave you the box." Brock glared at me.

  "Yes, how do you..."

  "I have the internet in my room. It's quite a web you've managed to spin for yourself."

  "It's not a web, it's true," I protested.

  "Brock, I promise you it is." Zavier placed a hand on the small of my back as he supported me, and I leaned into him.

  "Oh, I get that it's true. But why pull the wool over our eyes?" he demanded.

  "Sorry, I didn't think you were going to be all that accepting of me telling you I was an ancient legend," I bit out.

  He stayed silent after that one, probably because there really wasn't anything else he could possibly say. I was right, and he knew it.

  "What happened after that?" Ashton prompted again.

  "I got married, opened a box, was punished for opening the box, and now I'm here," I listed off, getting slightly exasperated on the back of Brock's accusations.

  "You were married?" Zavier demanded.

  "Not for very long." Alex snorted. "I think it was shorter than most celebrity marriages these days.”

  "Oi!" I elbowed him but had to admit he was right. My marriage had lasted all of four hours.

  "So, you didn't..." Ashton didn’t seem able to finish the thought, but I knew what he was going to say.

  "No, I didn't consummate it," I answered his unvoiced question. "But I hardly see why that matters." Especially when I'd told him I'd fucked my share of men and gods already. But the look on his face told me he was reassured by my revelation.

  "Right, so no marriage. You were made by Athena and Hephastios and you opened a box you weren't supposed to."

  "Pretty much," I replied. It was actually a pretty accurate summary of my life. As sad as that sounded.

  “Why were you made again?” Zavier asked.

  “They were bored with men and wanted something new to play with.” I shrugged. As far as I was aware that was the reason, though I hadn’t really given it much thought when I’d first been made. It was only now, recalling it back, that I had to wonder if there wasn’t more to it.