Scarlett and Hades want to share their story with you. Are you willing to find out what it’s like to be loved by a god?
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None shall be made to suffer as much as the one that causes many to suffer greatly just with his breaths alone.
~ Rhadamanthys, Minos & Aiakos (the Judges)
Tell that group of bitches I said to sit on it and twirl.
~ Hades, Fucking Ruler
Called by a line that was cursed from the first
She will be able to carry the spawn of the damned
Be forewarned
For a great change may come
One that may change the kind of man
Presenting a new face
Of one that was set in ways before
1592: the Patterson Home
“What does it mean, Father?” the little girl asked.
“It means that your brothers and I are going to have to keep a close and watchful eye on you. I wish your grandmother would’ve shared this little piece of your history earlier,” the father mumbled. “I would have done away with trying to create another child had I known. No man should be made to suffer so.”
“Elias, your daughter sits before you. She may not understand your words, but she does understand your intent. Besides, the hatred is rolling off of you in waves,” Madelynn responded.
“Madelynn, this is not the time for one of your positive outlook moments. Do you know what our lives are about to entail? Don’t you understand what we are about to endure with this new piece of information? We should’ve known what was to come, what we might have to fight if a female was born of your line. Why would the old woman not tell you of this accursed news prior to your adulthood?” Elias was beginning to get himself worked into a tizzy.
Seeing where this was going, Madelynn tried to steer her husband’s thoughts in another direction.
“Elias, no one can be blamed for things that happened in the past. We must learn to take what comes to us and find a way to make it work for the good. It is our way,” she spoke calmly as she continued her needlepoint.
“Curse your continuously calm nature. Our child has been signed up to be some god’s whore and you set there with that womanly pastime telling me to calm myself and look at the good within this. I’m in no mood for that simple type of behavior,” Elias huffed.
“Amazing to me, husband mine, that my suggestions are simple now but you had no problem with them when they were used to calm your mother’s wild woman antics. For this, I’m not…”
A horn sounded in the background and the building shook with the rumble of hoof beats that were coming towards them. Both Elias and Madelynn turned to look at their now sleeping 8 year old’s face. They both wore mirrored masks of horror.
“General, you’re needed at the main gate, Sir. A being is there calling for your presence,” one of the guards called from the other side of the door.
The panicked sound to his voice increased the trepidation they knew they were both feeling.
“Gather the boys, our daughter and take the tunnels…” Elias began.
“You really believe that taking the child will hide what belongs to my Master from his all powerful eyes. I was sent here to warn you. When it’s time, when she has come to be of age, she will be called to his side. There will be no hiding, no protecting, no bargaining nor pleading for leniency on the girl’s behalf. She will come forward whether you desire her to or not,” the two headed creature before them stated.
Neither knew which head to focus on. Both focused on someplace other than the four sets of red eyes that looked at them.
“You have been forewarned. It is futile to fight the inevitable. His desire will overrule your own,” it said in a foreboding tone.
They looked upon one another for a moment then to their child and back to where the being had appeared. It, whatever it was, was gone.
“Elias dear, what shall we do?” Madelynn exclaimed.
His only response was to shake his head.
So it began.
The gauntlet had been laid down and every male that had been born to the line had picked it up. They had a sacred duty to protect the women within their family; a warrior’s call and a fool’s response. Though their resistance was futile, within a few years that child who was now a woman was called forth. The men waged a war against the minions that came, but lost many. She was able to hear her family’s demise. She was brought to the being’s Master, spent the allotted time with him then took her own life the following year when she was to be called upon again.
The Master waited for the next one to be of age, gave the warning, fought the men, won and the woman refused him in the end. The patterned continued until he came to the realization, by way of reminder of his curse from those spineless cretins, that he would not have what he wanted so desperately if the woman lost so greatly. He devised a plan to get the next to agree to be by his side, but those interfering bastards thwarted his attempt.
How was he ever to get what he wanted if he kept having to deal with the odds being stacked against him? Leader of the Underworld or not, he didn’t want to resort to the underhanded measures if he didn’t have to. He wanted to use those for more pleasurable tasks.
He’d been dealing with this for well over four centuries and this one wouldn’t get away. His plan was one that made him smile with just how brilliant it was. His brethren wouldn’t have the ability to stop what he’d already set in motion. This one would be his. He’d attempted it before but he knew this one he’d perfected. He peered over at her from his side of the glass. As he looked over her shape and body, he knew he was right. She was worth the wait. There would be no battles with this one. He would finally gain all that he’d wanted and those judgmentally judicial jerks would have to bow down to the beauty of his moxie.
He would have his prize and tell that overrated, self-important group of stuffed shirts just how far they could jump up their own…
…the Harvest arrives. Time to play…
Patience, None (1)
ΨΨΨΨΨΨ
Present day, the depths of hell: Hades
Pacing.
Pacing is what seemed to be his greatest pastime during these days.
The time beginning the solstice in the earthly realm marked a time where
his body was strained with anxiety, nervous energy and anticipation.
He’d waited a great many moons for the timing to be accurate. Assured
this time would be the perfect timing for his seed to be planted, he had
his minions scouting the earth for what seemed to be eons before he
found the one. The one with the right bloodline and the marking that
would allow her to be what he needed her to be. He’d promised death to
any who attempted to touch her or dared to sully her virtue. When the
one he sought was found, he ordered a guard at the gateway to her space
every moment of every day. Wherever she went, she was shadowed and was
none the wiser.His perfect beauty was the epitome of grace and elegance. Her 5’8” height and dancer’s frame called to him when he gazed upon her through the looking glass that was his dining table. His Rouge had long wavy red hair, oval shaped cat-like light green eyes and fully pouty lips. Her high cheek bones and the kiss of peach in the color of her skin had him wanting his hands on her all the time. The curves she sported belied the standard thought of what a classically trained dancer would have. Yet, it worked for her. It worked for him as well.
He refused to let on to anyone realize just how much time he spent gazing into eyes when she was awake. It would be a sign of weakness to give away how much she’d come to mean to him. Their time spent together was time that he greatly cherished. The ones he led would not be able to understand, could not comprehend, the depth of what he felt for her. His lady didn’t know the hold she had on him either.
Tonight, he was to leave the place that was his very own and collect the heads of those that would dare to try to rise against him. It was a dirty job but someone had to do it. His eyes found hers again and he knew he could remain where he sat, perched on the edge of his recliner, for a short while longer. Days could go by and he could remain where it was that he’d already spent hours, days, honestly weeks, gazing upon her face.
The natives were getting restless. He could hear the war cry on the winds. The chanting was beginning. The old magic was being called forth. Seen as one of the greatest evils that was ever created, he had a name to uphold. A perception that was his duty to maintain. He was one of the most revered yet feared men breathing. The mere mention of his name would cause many to cower, run or hide. He enjoyed it most of the time, but seven years ago something began to change. She was found and entered his world on this night. Exactly seven years ago to the date and he saw things in a new light. Everything changed, nothing remained the same after the moment he laid eyes on her.
He hadn’t expected her to appear before him. The first night she did. He’d spent years perfecting “the call.” The call to the one that would bring forth his heir. The call to the one that would aide him in filling the emptiness, the void that he felt for so long. Yes, he’d shared a time with P., Persephone, but they weren’t the right fit. They never clicked. They didn’t mesh well at all. Their individual tempers caused great pain to those that surrounded them. When they were together, every moment was volatile. It wasn’t that way with her. His Rouge St. Clare had gazed upon him as if he were a man. Her big eyes took every aspect of him in with one quick perusal. He’d heated and a quick fire blaze burned its way through his veins. Her then cropped honey blonde dyed tresses were set with loose curls. She’d gazed upon him then a look of confusion passed over her face. Her perfectly kissable lips formed an “o” when she took in the breadth of him. Her excitement was reflected in the way her form fitted tank pulled taut against her large chest. His mouth watered and he couldn’t wait to be near her, to feel her, to know her in every way that a man could know a woman.
Hades had told himself repeatedly when he found her that he would give her time to acclimate. He’d attempt to tell her what was going on. When he saw her and acknowledged that she was actually there with him, he was lost. She was a tangible being and not a figment of his imagination. Any prior assurance to himself was thrown out the window. The first night they spent together was all about them giving each other pleasure. Their coming together was epic and he was hard enough in that moment that he could split his pants open with just the mere thought of her. He knew that she felt as if what she was doing was a dream. It was part of the stipulation of the curse. There was no way that he was allowed in her world and she could only come to him during this time of the year. What was one night in her time was two months in his own time. Every year the pattern repeated. The call pulled her from her dream state to the space before him. He’d taken the time to prepare something for her every year. This year wouldn’t be any different.
Rouge told him last year that she
seemed to find herself thinking of him at random times of the year. She
informed him that she always knew without a clock or calendar when she
would have the recurring dream. Her body seemed to itch to be near him
and the days before the dream were filled with enough desire that she
thought about going out and finding the first man she could, just to
have someone to satisfy her. Last year, when she arrived, her curls
were completely straight and her hair ran just below her shoulders. The
front bangs were a loud cherry apple red with reddish brown flowing
through the remainder. He found he enjoyed the longer length to the
shorter. This year he wanted to explain everything that was going on
with her and try to reign in his temper. Each time that she left and
the results of their time together proved to be not fruitful, he’d be in
a rage for weeks. Hades would have all that he expected this year. He
would have it or not only his enemy’s heads would roll but quite a few
others.
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~E.
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~E.