Waiting for Athena #7 Chats over Cookies

Three quick raps on the door and Athena opened it.

It was the neighbor above my apartment room at Athena’s door, fidgeting with his fingers and staring at the floor. He was mumbling something like he was reciting something over and over again. His two metered body towered over Athena but yet he seemed so scared. He had a nice consistent black stubble and loose plaid shirt over his thin frame. The forest green beanie on his head didn’t fully cover his hair as a wild golden quaff of hair escaped in the front. Athena had to clear her throat to catch his attention and he looked up like he was expecting someone else or something even though he just knocked on her door.

“Oh! Um, bright and early the sun is!” He fumbled with his words to complete a sentence. Ironically, it was almost midnight and there was no sun in the sky. In fact, the moon was already out and the clouds were hazing about in the dark but Athena didn’t bother to correct him. His mouth stretched into an uncontrollable grin to hid his embarrassment.

“Oh hello, Marcus. What brings you here? Did the mailman accidentally give you my mail again?” Athena ruffled her hair. She was in a very disheveled state at the moment. Her makeupless face and chestnut hair in a messy up-do was matched with her enlarged white T-shirt that stopped at her thighs and her thick grey bathrobe. One hand clung onto a black tray of sugar cookies she had just finished baking and the other one rested on the door knob.

He chuckled uncomfortably. “Well yes. I mean no. It’s not about the mailman.” He breathed two heavy sighs to stabilize his emotions.

“Cookie?” Athena offered as she raised the tray up towards Marcus. Instead of taking a cookie, Marcus suddenly leaned in and kissed her on the lips. His lips were slightly chapped but soft in an accommodating way which easily molded around Athena’s statue-like lips. Athena could feel his hot breathe on her face and she became immobilized. Marcus suddenly realized what he was doing and jerked back, staring desperately at her face. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what just happened.”

Athena just stood there for a couple of seconds with the tray still up in the air like she had when she offered him a cookie. Then, she stared emotionlessly at Marcus and cocked her head to the side as if she was analyzing him. “Hm. I will make note that you don’t like cookies.” She slammed the door on his face as she turned back around to continue about her business. What a distraction to her baking.

Athena began walking towards the kitchen to put the cookies on the counter when yet again someone knocked on her door.

“Oh for goodness sake.” She set the cookie tray on the dining table and walked back to the door to throw it open.

“What on earth is it no-” She stopped mid-sentence.

Athena was drawn aback from the sight that laid in front of her. Hera, the queen of the gods, was a worse state that Athena was. Her dress was ripped at the edges and her makeup streamed down her face making her look like a homeless clown. Hera tried to bubble out some words out of her mouth but she just sounded like a dying frog. With a regretful sigh, she stepped back to motion Hera in. Hera’s face showed her gratitude as she wobbled into the room and collapsing on a chair next the table. Without hesitation, Hera grabbed a cookie, shoved it into her mouth, and after realizing that the cookie had no effect of making her feel better, began sobbing again.

Athena closed the door quietly and placed a box of tissues on the dining table in front of Hera while Hera became working on creating a tissue pile on the floor. Athena was actually completely uninterested in what Hera had to say. The only thing she was actually was curious about was why Hera came to her to seek for comfortable out of all the people she knew. She thought it had already been established that she hated Hera and vice versa. Nevertheless, Athena was hungry so she brought herself a bowl of Italian pasta to the dining room to began eat. A few moments of silence passed of Athena munching on her dinner while Hera busily cleaned out her nose.

“Are you not prepared to ask me what is the matter? Or maybe comfort me?” Hera complained.

Athena looked up from her food and her eyes widened slightly confused what Hera was complaining about. “Well, I didn’t know if you wanted to share or not.” Athena defended herself.

“Of course I do, you dweeb. Why else would I come here?” Hera whined. She threw up her hands in frustration at Athena’s lack of comforting skills.

“Oh… so why did you come see me?” Athena casually threw out. “Don’t you have other… children to counsel you?” She was a little reluctant to include herself as one of Hera’s children.

“Oh goodness. Have you seen Hephaestus and Ares? Either ugly or violent. I can never have a perfect son. And all of my lovely daughters are all off doing their own things, most likely not even in Europe at the moment. I don’t know how to even reach them.” Suddenly, a wave of realization seemed to hit Hera as she began to panic. “Do they not love me too? What did I do wrong that makes everyone hate me? Everyone in the world hates me because of a reason… a reason I don’t even know of!” Hera sobbed even louder and continued to blab on while Athena began concentrating on finishing her food again. She could honestly care less about the drama in Hera’s life.

“- and then there’s Zeus.” Athena’s ears perked back up. “The man never shows that he loves me, always doing things behind my back. NEVER bothering to tell me anything. Sometimes, I wonder if he even loves me, because I know that I love him.” Hera’s hands moved wildly on their own to express Hera’s passionate speech and her blonde curls bobbled with her head. “And he always tell me Hear baby I love you so much. But if he doesn’t really love me then I don’t know what to do.” Her voice cracked slightly. “And sometimes, I even want to leave him just to see what he would feel like. He deserves that. That ignorant st-”

“So do you feel any anger towards him?” Athena interrupted.

Hera’s eyes lightened up, because, for some reason, suddenly, Athena was showing interest in her life. “Well, this morning, I caught Zeus with this blond WHORE in the bedroom. And I kicked her-” Hera kicked her leg up to reenact what she did. “-out of the house and threw a nice slap on Zeus’s face-” She smacked the mid-air. “-which felt… satisfying.”

“Yes. yes.” Athena said impatiently. “Hera… what if I told you I could change that? If you just listened to what I told you to do? And make all of your troubles go away.”

Hera stopped sniffling pathetically, confused. “And how would you do that?”

Athena got up from the table and walked to the kitchen. She grabbed out a tea tray and began preparing some tea back facing Hera. Hera’s eyes followed Athena to the kitchen still perplexed.

“So what is the plan?” Hera asked.

Instead of answering, Athena didn’t look up from the tea and asked, “Would you like some?”

Hera nodded her head “Yes, please. No sugar.”

Athena quickly prepared two cups of warm tea and walked over with the tea tray to set it down on the dining table. She sat down and lifted up her cup before motioning to Hera to do the same.

“Cheers.”

Waiting for Athena #6 No Pastries at Four

Hera’s cheeks burned raw from the frosty breezes in the four o’ clock morning air. The air was dry, crispy, and perfect for a casual stroll along the nearby lake or a visit to her favorite pastry shop, but Hera was already occupied with other matters. She had been waiting all her life for a chance like this. A chance to prove her worthiness to Zeus. He would finally see her as the caring wife that she was.

Her lips curled into a grimace. She always knew that Leto was no good and neither were her ridiculous children.

The two pathetic children stumbling around like a couple of homeless rats with a couple of pointy sticks in a bag. She muttered under her breath, which made her feel even better.

Hera regretted how she was never successful killing Leto before the whore began popping out those illegitimate children. Then, there was that Athena child that had absolutely no respect for other people’s boundaries. Not by coincidence, Athena was also not hers. In fact, the majority of Zeus’s children were not even hers and they were all no good. This is time she was saving him from his own children and, at the same time, she was finishing some unfinished business.

For once, the odds were in her favor. She could imagine the outrage on her husband’s bearded face after she told him of recent plans brewing around him. She could imagine him mercilessly punishing those hateful troublemakers and later being in Hera’s debt. He would finally stay forever faithful at her side, the only woman in his life like it was meant to be. All she had ever wanted was someone to love her as much as she loved them. Zeus would smoother her with kisses and spoil her with gifts. She almost began skipping at the thoughts that were running in her head. Then, she had to remind herself that she was no longer a little girl, but a fully mature adult woman. Skipping was absolutely childish. She shook her head to clear the absurd desires she was having.

The lights in the sky began disappearing and the giant sun rose once again.

Thank Helios, Hera thought as she pulled out the keys to their apartment. When she inserted them into the silver keyhole, the door easily swung open and she flung her purse aside on the near coffee table so she could rush to her husband’s side to tell him the news. She could barely contain her excitement as she hurried up the stairwell. She could smell the tea brewing in the air which meant that Zeus was already awakening and walking. She was so thrilled to see the events that would unfold because Hera, a respectable and important woman, was capable of making them happen. She was so distracted, Hera barely noticed the smell of light candles upstairs. She was so happy she almost missed the clothes that scattered the majority of the second floor. There laid a pair of Zeus’s pale blue boxers and a piece of feminine scarlet panties along with a massive amount of other accessories that littered the floor. She could hear the echoes of giggling and cooing in a nearby room.

Hera wasted no time to barge into the master bedroom. A bare Zeus and a shockingly blond woman laid under the bed sheets, stroking each others face. His eyes widened as he turned to look at the newcomer of the room and Hera barely caught a glance of the woman’s fully exposed breasts above the bedsheets before the woman wrapped her arms around them.

“How dare you..” she barely uttered out the words that were choking her throat. The heat in her head boiled and her eyes stinged with rage.

“Oh, darling! What happened? You weren’t suppose to be back home until this afternoon!” a rather flustered Zeus bluttered out. He immediately realized that he had said the wrong thing and grabbed a near pillow to began wobbling towards her. He extended his right hand outward towards Hera and the other hand holding the pillow against his groin. “Hera, love, I can explain. This all is a misunderstanding.” He nervously laughed and continued to approach her like she was a bull on the loose.

He began kissing her hand and every second checking her face to see her unstable emoticons. Most of the time, this kind of affection would immediately bring out the soft side of Hera and she would breathe out a sigh and forgive him, but this time was far too many times too many. To think that she actually rushed home to help him just to catch him being unfaithful to her was so painful to her that she marched to the girl’s side and began dragging her out of the room by the girl’s wrist. The nameless girl desperately managed to pick up her yellow dress from the assortment of clothes on the floor and stand on her feet before Hera pull her down the staircase. Zeus and the girl both tried to keep up with Hera’s intensely fast pace.

When they reached the front door, Hera flung open the door and threw the poor naked girl out. “Don’t you dare come back you little whore.” Hera threatened and closed the door before the confused girl could even understand what was going on.

Hera turned to face her her husband who was in close proximity of her. His gorgeous, perplexed eyes that stared back at her hurt her even more, wrenching at her heart. The man that she trusted and loved could never love her back the same way. She could feel her eyes brimming up but she didn’t want to show him how angry she was. Instead, she didn’t say anything, but gave him a cold hard slap across the face and walked out of the room.

Waiting for Athena #5 Backtrack

At the strike of midnight, they bounded into the night, bubbling with excitement. Her feet barely touched the concrete before she was quickly uplifted back into the air for a few moments. The grin on her face grew from ear to ear and she became the true wild beast that she was on the inside. Teeth glittering in the moonlight, she bared against the breeze that used her hair to tickle the nap of her neck or the sides of her waist. She was a real natural beauty that seemed to have simply arouse from the earth itself.

He grasped her hand tighter because if he didn’t, she would abandon him and blend into the shadows. The warmth of her hand matched his and the crazy ragged duo traveled at an unstoppable pace. The people began to leave the streets, sensing even the smallest hair that touched the ground. The time for midnight. She could feel that he, too, was enjoying the thrill of the rush. His red eyes glowed more brightly from the heat burning inside of him and he felt at any moment he could begin screaming in delight. He couldn’t wait for the satisfying noise of a new beginning, a new start.

The image of Asciepius slowly sizzling from the shock burned in his head a million more times and fueled his anger. To bloody hell with that man. He had lost so much because of that horrid man. His heart cried in outrage as his mind moved onto his mother, a gorgeous woman left behind in a desperate state of mind and two wailing children. Her vulnerable body relentlessly fought for the survival of her children and yet there was never a call of assistance from their ignorant father. The same man that who’s irresponsible actions affected everyone was the same man that was somehow also designated the ruler of the gods. Apollo could easily say that the day that man fell would be the day he feasted like a king in the blazing havens of a blood red fire.

His heart rate was beginning to reach concerning paces and she suddenly stopped in mid-run, halting him to stare at his eyes. He slowly down with the same fluid movements of her loose moonlight hair. It jerked back and enclose around her body, wondering why she stopped. Calm down and don’t think about it. Her words began to sink into him and he realized that although they were both excited, over thinking was not going to help keep his head straight to get that shot that he wanted. He inhaled a forceful amount of air and dispersed it back into the air. The heat of his body released along with the air and he forced himself to only concentrate on her present by his side. After a tediously long time, he recollected his thoughts aside and the pressure in his body succumbed to this new found peace he had discovered within himself.

He opened his eyelids to be greeted by his sister’s stunning doll-like face. Her eyes frowned at the heavy heart that lied within her. She was waiting for a signal from him, a sign that he was alright and he would not let his emotions get the best of him. He nodded and she sighed with relief. “I’m fine,” He assured. “Now let us carry on and find Athena.”

Before they could continue, an ambiguous shadow appeared in from under the street lamp. “Oh. Hello, children.”

Waiting for Athena #4 Driving Sideways

My vision blurred as the tramway subway swept onward. The heat of my sister’s nearby body nestled into my bones and I looked over to see her head rested on my shoulder. Her silver hair was paired with a shockingly youthful face and a set of wide brown eyes. She resembled a camouflaged fawn darting throughout the forest in a race from a dark predator luring about.  Her moonshine hair weaved around her body like a lone horse’s tail trailing through the night. She could feel my stare touching her body and she glanced up to stare with those enormous doe-shaped eyes. Her excitement was bouncing off the boundaries of the tram except she didn’t smile at me. Nor did I, because only deep down inside did we secretly feed off the adrenaline rush of the rising night. Something was going to die tonight and we knew it.

She let out an erotic sigh of pleasure from her uncontrollable enthrallment with this feeling and bundled in farther into my loose arms. Her heart rate sped up to sync with mine and we live on for the next few stops in silence to the windy sound of the tram like the marble statues in a busy museum.

I noticed that people went out of their way to space themselves at the minimum a tram cart away so we were the only beating hearts on the lone tram cart. Sometimes, an occasional wandering man or woman would step on the tram, but they would immediately back around like they had forgotten to do something somewhere else that was extremely important. The smell of danger and contaminated water intoxicated the inside of the cart. Nevertheless, we stayed still while I lazily pick at my nails on my left hand out of habitual tendencies while she entangled her fingers into my right hand. She began using her pinky and drawing light circles on the palm of my hand.

~

The pairing looked like another drug-crazed couple: one with unnaturally lively silver hair and the other with a disheveled set of honey hair like he had recently jumped out of an airplane. His red eyes were a shade of red that was mistaken easily by many as black. In addition to the abnormal physical characteristics, each wore a torpedo of different clothes stitched  together and layered in an unorganized fashion and seemed ready at any moment to begin tearing people limb to limb in their dazed addictive personalities. The team were both decorated with smugs of dirt and dust smeared across their pale complexions. Of course, no one wanted to be near the two.

In the harsh lighting from the ceiling, she got up in a whip with a graceful dance and twirled around in the tram, oblivious to the fact that the tram was still in motion. His sister swirled around each of the poles with one hand grasping the pole and the other hand reaching for the sky. She abruptly ended her halcyon performance kneeling with her face placed on his knees. Her elfish features spread across her thin face with freckles above her round cheeks. Although she was compared often with the others, her brother would always think she was the prettiest, but in a more childlike manner. She embodied a female with gorgeous physics and a thin, muscular waist that made many men peek at constantly. But her face gave it all away, leaving the men including her brother with a guilty fetish for a woman that would eternally resemble a child. In spite of his guilt to their abnormal connection, they stared at one another, soaking in the smells and energies from one another.

Her eyes seemed to widen by the second and she was lost by his perfection. The lights of the tram were set up to highlight his prominent cheekbones and his

~

“Our stop,” She reminded me with her pursued light pink lips before the robotic feminine voice above could announce that we were at the Holborn tramway station . I could feel her smile widen and she reached over to check for her bow and arrow slung around her back which were originally hidden under her layers of clothes. The tram began to slow down and we quickly exited the station and up into the night. She reached for my hand and we raced off as the clock struck midnight.

Waiting for Athena #3 Zippers

“I’m just slightly concerned about the state of my health, Doctor Rice,” the man calmly sighed, “Lots of things have been happening lately and I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

It seemed like a character had stepped out of a book or another sort of literature work because every characteristic of his body posed naturally exaggerated and carefully designed. A man mostly likely of business and importance, his slim figure was wrapped around with a jet black tuxedo and a narrow crimson tie. His clothing was completely incapable of covering the lines of his masculine physics, eye candy for the average woman passing by. In addition to his slick figure and glossed-back black hair, each of his fingers was decorated with brilliant rings of varying sizes and every imaginable color. Each was encircled by a blinding gold rim of priceless worth. His painfully sharp-edged nose and chin were accessorized with an intricate design trimmed in his dark stubble. He almost blended into the wall in a shade of skin that never saw the sun. It shone paler than freshly fallen ice cold snow, paler than the color white. Even simply staring at a side profile of the stretched 6’2 figure, I was in awe at the man’s subtle bizarre perfection. He could have been smoking a cigar in the middle of the hospital and no one would have the nerve to tell him no. It was as if I had stepped into a 1920s club with dimmed lights and jazz music playing in the background along with the swaying throng of people.

I was suddenly conscious of the amount of makeup I had hurriedly slapped onto my ordinary complexion this morning for work (Maybe it’s Maybelline?) and the way I held myself; my posture, the angle of my body. Unnecessary tension overpowered my mind and though he wasn’t even aware of my existence, I scared myself, thinking that he could possibly see me and my dumbfounded face.

Doctor Rice, on the other hand, was an emotionless man that seemed to be the kind of man that would immediately grab a shotgun and shoot anyone in the head if they turned against him. His spectacles were the only man-made asset of his expressionless face surrounded by a patted-down white mane of hair similar to that of a lion. The doctor also had a habit of grumbling every once in a while like a broken recording that wouldn’t stop playing. Wrinkles covered his pink, saggy face, but nobody interpreted them as a sign of lack of energy. Although he lacked the regular medical clipboard to record the occurring events, he intently listened to what the outlandish man had to say like the consequences would be a global disaster of some sort. If he didn’t pay attention, then maybe the world would fall apart and the dead would stumble out of the sewers or something. My mind told me I should leave before either one of them caught me but my heart seemed to immobilized my position by the door. I stood there like a rat ready to grab a piece of cheese even though  I was aware of the hovering mouse trap.

“Ah. I’m sure it’s just a minor problem. You have always looked fresh and fine. It’s already been fifty years and you are still looking great.”

Fifty years? I was extremely confused and I examined the man again. He did not look a day over twenty-five. Despite his mature attitude, he looked fresh out of university about to receive his first major job; surely this man wasn’t fifty or older. He couldn’t be the same age as my parents, could he? Then again, the doctor was rather old and he was possibly forgetful, constantly wobbling around like an insane, brainless zombie with a Phd. When the man began to nod his head at the Doctor, I assumed that maybe the Doctor was just blabbering nonsense and the man was simply accepting it not to hurt his fragile feelings and his quick temper.

“I expect everything will be in perfect condition. And if not I can only tell you what is wrong, but I may not be able to help. Many of the diseases or problems that you may experience I can do nothing but identify.” The man continued nodding absentmindedly, staring at the wall beyond the Doctor’s body, oblivious to the Doctor’s words. The Doctor was definitely beginning not to make sense and the man knew it.

“But I have a small idea of what may be the problem.” Doctor Rice added. The man quickly began to pay full attention the Doctor again. His eager head tilted up to catch the Doctor’s next words.

“What do you think it is, Doctor?”

“I reckon you may be…” The Doctor hesitated to finish his sentence, but after a long moment continued. “You may be lonely.” He checked the man’s facial expression to prepare for any outbursts of anger or denial, but the Doctor’s diagnosis left a blank stare on his face.

“Lonely? You think I might be lonely?” The Doctor confirmed this, bobbing his head up and down, completely unafraid of affirming his conclusion.

The man let out a relieved laugh that startled both the Doctor and me. The Doctor’s head wobbled slightly backward at the unexpected reaction. “It’s beginning to make so much sense now!” The corners of the man’s mouth rose slightly and, yet, his eyes sagged downward with a collection of visible moisture, possibly saddened. “I am lonely.  I spent so many nights, lying there wondering what it was that I was missing! Maybe it is even love, something that everyone, even mortals, fall for.” He said it like it was so obvious that he was been lonely the whole time. “Love is so simple and yet so mysterious at the same time.”

I was becoming more and more thrown aback both from his alien sounding laughter and the choice of words he was using. Like “mortal”, what about mortals? Was he not a mortal? Was he some newly evolved or mutated human species that I had never seen before from an underground cave?

The Doctor recovered and ignored his weird outburst, turning around to obtain some medical gloves before turning back around. “I suppose I should start checking now.” He repeated it like he must have said it to every patient he had, bored and unamused.

“Of course, Doctor. Of course.” The man kept shaking his head as if he was still in disbelief, although I, myself, did not think that depression, was a very strange condition. He shook his head, freed himself of his jacket, and started tugging at his hairline. His glossy black hair pulled off in one bloody piece, revealing a gold zipper ingrained into his raw skin and into his fine clothes that ran from the top of his head down the line of his spine to his hip bones like a snake slithering down his body searching for something precious. My eyes widened and I let out a tiny scream from my mouth, horrified and unsure of what I had gotten myself into. The skin hidden by the jacket seemed even paler, if that was possible, and the blood was dark hard red, a color that scream that he wasn’t bleeding at the moment but that the blood was from awhile back and was left, uncleaned. I got my first look at his dead eyes that flashed upward straight towards the noise and that saw my eyes peering through the tiny glass slit in the door. There was no light reflecting off his pitch-black eyes; only an eerie song reflected off of them. I could finally see what the man had been all along. Not a wealthy, businessman in his twenties with a bright future. Not an interesting new model born for the purpose for the others to gasp at and worship. He was nothing but a monster straight from the pits of hell sent there to find me. He was exactly the kind of monster that my mom had warned me about meeting. The mouse had finally been caught by the mousetrap.

Somehow in a tranceful state, I opened the door and let it close behind me because I was longer in control of my body and a strong force out of my control was. Blood stopped running to my twitching hands and arms and the floor felt unbalanced, leaning from one side to another, but I continued to inch forward like an irrational person. The lights above flickered for a moment and I knew it was because of his presence or maybe it was just my imagination. I had no idea what was reality and fantasy; the separate realms began to blend. My judgement was hazy and untrustworthy. What I had thought was impossible was now possible and what I thought was reality was no longer true. The sound of the door closing was the last sound I heard before the Doctor leaned around the frightening monster and tugged on the zipper to slowly reveal a rotting human skeleton underneath.

A dark, quiet voice that melted like a bar of butter on a hot plate spoke into my ear as the hairs on my neck rose.

Hello, Persephone. Am I lonely?

Waiting for Athena #2 The Game

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    “What if that’s what he’s planning?” Athena asked with a shift from playful to aggressive in her tone of voice. Her pawn shifted up two spaces.

    His brows folded together in deep thought that hid his glowing, sea-blue eyes and scratched the fine, brown stubble on his chin. His slightly sun-kissed skin was unusual for someone living in Great Britain. He did not blend into the average crowd because he was the sorrel stallion in the crowd of passive, dapple grey falabella horses. Instead of conforming to the dull weather in the atmosphere, a warm and welcoming aura radiated off his skin to nearby strangers. Some passersby would glance at the man and their eyes would linger too long to be socially acceptable. Lost like a new litre of puppies, they would proceed to wander off with a daze expression left on their faces. No mere human would be able to comprehend the importance of the events, distracted by the godly figures calmly competing like they had eternity to play. Nothing existed to them except the board and each other.

    “Well, assuming that you are right and we can somehow find the bastard, what would we do to punish the man?” He placed his black knight over his pawns, ready to defend.

    Athena’s green, threatening eyes had no effect on the man, who intently sat there waiting for her to make a move. Finding a way to punish the man was completely irrelevant to the conversation. The man had millions of weaknesses, one of them actually being Athena herself. He was avoiding directly answering her questions because he completely uninterested in the big man’s motives. Of course, he also didn’t really care how the man was going to be punished; he wanted the man to be punished. In fact, he had been waiting for this opportunity to step on the big man for a long time. He just didn’t want to look weak in the process and, in some sense, lose to her. She mentally snarled at him, urged with a desire to strangle him and throw his useless body back into the sea where it belonged. She would finally hear that satisfying splash of his body hitting the water and one of his brainless animals like group of seaweed or a couple of seashells could save him for all she cared. Oh look everyone! She wanted to announce. Your holy rule of the sea is being rescued by some barnacles!

   At the same time, he was contemplating why he had let her live for so long. Her personality was repulsive and she lacked all the likable feminine qualities to be considered an accommodating and obedient girl, the only kind of girls he appreciated. He had loved many beautiful women who were full of grace and respected his nondebatable authority, but this troublesome child would always suddenly leap into his life at the worst moments and take a few stabs at his body for the fun of it. So why did he let such disobedient child grow in Metis and later pop out of Zeus? Oh right. Athena’s nonexisting brother was destined to overthrow his father, but sadly, Metis only bore a girl and, at the time, he thought she would render completely useless to him. If only she was the boy that the prophecy had predicted, they won’t have to pick up the leftover pieces of the plan and finish the man off in the first place. His arrogance matched her defiance and the invisible war between sides continued.

    Cunt. She thought.

    Virgin. He laughed.

    She glared at him but waved his insults off like little water droplets hitting off a cement wall. At least her virginity was much more honorable than his reckless attitude of infidelity.

    “I think you’re forgetting that you aren’t the only one who has ties with him. You’d gain so much more if you would just give up and choose me.” She sighed out little puffs of air, visible in the cold weather. “Think about the consequences when he wins. That’s just as bad as me beating your arse.” He let out a little air from his mouth, trying to control his laughter from her pathetic threats. “Actually whether or not you side with me, I will always be kicking your irresponsible arse.”

    She moved her bishop up. “Just.”

    She collected his knight. ” Like.”

    And she threw it on the ground. ” That. How does it feel?” Her lips puckered together and she squinted her eyes a fraction like she had tasted something sour in the air.”

    He smiled and advanced his pawn diagonally. The pawn devoured the bishop and he flicked her bishop off the board like a repulsive flea that had landed into his food. “It feels like that.” After a long pause, he continued, expressing himself in a lazy manner as if the sun was beating to hard on him.

    “Athena, darling, you and I are not friends. We never have been. Friendship is something that I am sure neither you or I care for nor the other gods with brains,” That was the closest Athena had ever heard him compliment her, but she didn’t let her guard down around the dangerous man. “It’s foolish to think that we would need friendship if we know that our ‘friends’ will always eventually bother us in the end with the excuse that friendship has no price. You, Athena, would know better than anyone else after your little fool-around with Pallas. All friendship and human attachment creates are necessary worries and sorrows.” The reminder of the consequences of her violent personality hit her like a wave of guilty and he chuckled quietly at her reddened face. “It’s fair to say the relationship between us is purely business. So you have a motivation other than this friendship and you haven’t told me it yet, am I right?” She didn’t respond and waiting for him to finish. “I also have decided that its fair that you tell me what it is that you are afraid of and I will help you if I think it is necessary.” He leaned forward and stared deeply into her eyes. “Like a contract between two businesses, I should have the right to understand the circumstances of the situation.”

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    She held unbroken eye contact with a straight face that rarely laughed and leaned forward as well to match his actions. An old lady with her arms wrapped around her husband’s right arm was strolling by. When she noticed the two inclined towards each other, she frantically tapped her husband’s shoulder to obtain his attention and proceeded to point at the distant two completely oblivious to the miscommunicated signals they were giving to the common eye. “Oh, Harold. Oh, oh look. Young lovers these days seem so happy and young. Sometimes they just can’t contain themselves.” The old lady chuckled and her face lit because she was desperate of any kind of excitement at her age.”Remember when we were that young and energetic?” The two paused for a few moments from the overwhelming amounts of nostalgia, but wobbled on because the old lady, Marge, was anticipating finishing the blue scarves she was making her grandchildren by tomorrow.

    “Blimey! Where did you get that? A book?” She said, taunting his argument. “Whether or not I have motives, they aren’t your problem. Your own problems will come if you don’t assist me in my plan. I will make sure that you suffer when it’s all over. Don’t fight a game you’ve already lost.”

    Still keeping eye contact, he cocked his head slightly, observing her and contemplating how legitimate her threats were. Her words seeped like poison into his bones and he knew that she was being serious when she said she would make his life as miserable as possible.

    “I could kill you right now.” He added the empty threat sharply directed at her.

   “What would you gain from doing such a thing?” She teased.

    “Some goddamn peace and quiet around here.”

    “Don’t forget I could also kill you right now.”

    “Your move.” He suddenly said, changing the topic again. He tipped back into his chair and finally broke eye contact.

    It would truly be reckless if he wanted to challenge a second time. Last time, he even lost power to Athens. Athena moved her pawn forward and he knew exactly why within seconds.

    As she exposed her king and queen in the same move, he knew exactly what she meant. Everything had a purpose in her book. Everything was exploitable. Everything truly was a business to her and she played the game better than he did. Except the circumstances were different, because this time the choices were a little different. Athena was the queen. And the big man was the king. He had the choice of taking down either the king or the queen, but once he moved his queen in for the kill, his king would be exposed. Taking the queen meant that a knight would take his queen and then the rest of the game would be a dominant reign of Athena’s power that would eventually lead to his downfall. Taking the king meant that he would be safe and he would win the game. And taking the king was his way of agreeing to take her side. She didn’t really give an inkling about the outcome of game and only about the potential alliance between them. Her priorities were clearly displayed across the board like a mannequin posed behind the window of a store. It was the game except she never played fair.

    Last time, his manipulative niece had convinced Salacia to sprinkle in some salt into the water he had offered to the Athenians. His affair with Medusa was certainly not something that his wife’s counterpart approved of and after having a chinwag with Athena, Salacia was convinced that both Athena and she lost tremendously from his irresponsible actions. With his eye on potentially ruling Athens, they both decided it was of their best interests to punish him on judgement day. When the Athenians gulped down the given water, he became perplexed by the distraught expression of the people.  He had given them the finest water on the earth that he could find and yet they did not appreciate it? He quickly found out from Triton what Salacia had done but killing her was equivalent to waging war against Athena. She smiled innocently back at him exactly like the moment when she presented an olive tree to the Athenian people, waiting patiently for the decision.

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     “Off with his head. Off with his head.” She chimed quietly in the background, infuriating him even more.

     The overblown ego in his chest hurt when he inflated and deflated with air as he reluctantly kicked her helpless king with his winning piece.

     “Now, what can I do for you?” He offered in a steady and controlled voice of defeat.

     Athena’s smile faded because smiling was only a sign of weakness. Her smile was replaced with the permanent uptight look she was famously known for. She knew she won. She always won.

Waiting for Athena #1 The Modern Spider

The police sirens disturbed the night’s peaceful moment, racing off to save some poor soul in danger. Its cries stung the neighborhood’s minds, but everyone endured it because, after all, what if one day you were the one that needed saving? I savored the last of my tea and I counted the seconds after the police sirens because I knew it would happen any second in the most dramatic way possible.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven. A cold shiver ran down my spine as predicted in a slow and pythonic as I sat in the safe havens of my bedroom while staring at the open window. I noticed the tea was beginning to work its magic. I was guaranteed warmth, but instead, I was more alert of a dreaded meeting that I felt I was corralled mentally into.

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I gently lifted the silk, dark blue curtains that obscured my vision of the outside world to authenticate my predictions. Sure enough, there it was and the heavy night and the pale fog did not hid the crepuscular silhouette because I could feel the darkened aura tingling into my bones even two stories away. It was threatening and the feathery whispers that it sent pierced my heart that trembled in the darkness three times, once with each word.

Let. (Stab) Me. (Stab) In. (Stab)

I knew that even the saints could not help me at this point. The coated person stood there silently staring back at me with faintly glowing green eyes and I nodded my head slightly signalling that I understood.

I like to think that I am a brave soul and that one day, when I was done ageing and child-like again, I would smile at the thoughts of my past and be a symbol to all as an independent spirit that could brush away all obstacles with ease. In fact, I believe that is what most people wish for. They want to be that one person that all look up to and wonder at their achievements. But when death comes knocking on your door, how does someone still keep smiling and invite death in for some tea and a session of chin wag?

Woman Looking at Reflection

I most definitely was scared; of course, I already knew that so there was no point in showing it because it would do me no good. Turning towards the mirror that contrasted in colour with the surrounding beige walls, I adjusted my clothes minimally and tucked back a stray hair. I hastened down the stairs and my heart slowed down as if it thought that if it was any louder, someone would silence the disturbance on the spot. My fingers trembled ever so slightly and found comfort in the smooth surface of the wooden railing of the stairwell that my hand lightly fingered as I traveled downward. The peephole was blocked by the figure and I could not see anything except a blank space of darkness. Before revealing myself and the other, I checked my image in the mirror a second time to see if I was concealing my emotions well. With a heavy breath and another tucking of a stray hair, I unlatched the handle and opened the door to greet my guest.

“Good evening. I have been expecting your arrival,” I welcomed my visitor with all the courage I could muster. My leg and facial muscles tightened and my back straightened as I painted a set of small pursed lips across my face.

The memorable face was filmed over with a small triangular veil attached to a brown rose-like bun and my visitor smelt lightly of cinnamon and cedar wood. My guest was dressed in a long black Belstaff coat with a vibrant red scarf wrapped tightly around the neck and her head was cocked to the side just so I could only view her partially exposed face. She decorated each of her pointer fingers with a single ruby ring which was a rather unusual arrangement of jewellry. I felt a twinge of annoyance that she was ignoring me, completely disregarding me for a minuscule moment to type away on a phone, but when she looked up at me with the same glistening green eyes, I lost my composure and stared with a mixture of both awe and terror. There was something different about her this time though. But that didn’t make a difference to me because I lost all of my original confidence and my knees began to tremble. Her eyelashes swept upward in one swift motion and pierced into my heart a second time. My heart fumbled to catch on to its original rhythm, begging that she look away. Gordon Bennett this was bad.

“Oh my dear, my apologies. Athena couldn’t come by and have a chat,” She cooed, her gaze tracing back to her cellular device. The taps that her slim fingers made were identical to the sounds of clicking heels on a hard smooth floor or the notes on a piano. Her words slurred together in an elegant, casual song.

“She’ll come tomorrow though. Don’t think about running away because that won’t do much in your favor. She’ll know where you went and she’ll always find you.” Her phone slipped back in her purse and she quickly glanced at me one more time with a pitiful smile. This time my heart froze and melted at the same time and my breath stopped in alarm. She stroked one finger down my face and lifted my chin as if she was examining me in a disgusted way.

“And don’t hang yourself or anything darling. It’s no use,” she purred, “Minerva would know. In fact, Minerva knows exactly what Athena is thinking. Right. Now.” She paused as if she was recollecting her thoughts, but it was foolish to think that a goddess would have to do such a thing. Everyone knows that they just do that for effect.

“And sweethart, if you did what you did to Athena to me, your insolent mind would be begging for mercy. Just being here adulterates my mind and I would have already gone ahead and start with it, but I think Athena deserves the fun. Besides she was always a little bit too… oh… merciful for me. And I hope her… mercifulness comes to benefit you in the end.” Her insults stung with bee stings and I wanted to fight back, but I couldn’t. She could tell that I was at a loss for words.

“Brave spiders always die in the end. They scatter around on the floor like they belong there and think that no one can stop them, but, in reality, it makes it easier for me to kill them because all I have to do is step on them.” She giggled delightfully, “but luckily, you aren’t one of them. You just wish you were and, well, here’s your wish. Congratulations!” she added sarcastically. Her cell phone suddenly started ringing and Minerva’s face brightened up like a child on Christmas Day. “Oh! That’s my cue!” She casually turned around and begins strolling back to her red porsche parked on the side of the road. When she turned around, I began to regain control of my mind and body and the biggest question popped into my head. How could I just let her walk away without at least having the last word?

“But what if it’s not my fault? What if he’s just trying to get us to repeat our mistakes like last time?” I suddenly hollered back at her, desperately running down my driveway to make her stop. I was blinded by the night the farther I walked away from the lights in my house and had to come a halt to prevent hurting myself.

Minerva carried on, unfazed and bored by my remarks, and approached her car before turning around to look at me with disdain. Her car’s headlights blinked as she unlocked the car and she swiftly swung open the car door. Before she got in, Minerva laughed, teasing me and not taking me seriously at all. “Oh bloody hell! You are not my problem. You are your own problem. So belt up and go figure it out yourself, honey.” And she drove off, leaving me in the dust as the little spider, the only life I knew of.

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