Medusa Ch. 01byNovusAnimus©
~~My attempts at a more romantic story, the Medusa series will assume the version of the Medusa myth where Poseidon raped her when she was human, and Athena was so upset that she turned her into a gorgon. Many entities and myths from classic Greek mythology will turn up, and while I'll take artistic license where needed, I'll endeavour to maintain a level of respect for the source material. You can expect to find a healthy mix of violent, graphic combat, and sexual activities within. As always, comments are appreciated and encouraged.~~
~~Warning: this series will be largely a romance, with tender, loving sex and a lot lot lot of breast foreplay. You have been warned. =P ~~
Chapter 1 - A Pair of Monsters (a flash forward)
Groaning with frustration, Darien pulled himself up the rocks and over the ledge, finding new sunlight burning his eyes. A somewhat small man, short, thin but lithe and toned, he had little trouble scaling the cliff side. His companion on the other hand was not so lucky.
"Medusa! Come on!" the man yelled down behind him, quickly turning and getting to a knee. Dressed in the stolen armor of the Theban military, he looked almost heroic, armored body reaching out to pull the damsel up the cliff to safety. It forced a momentary grin to Medusa's lips, quickly washed away with the difficult task of scaling the rocks in front of her.
"How in Tarturas am I going to get up this!?" she screamed up to him, head turning to look behind her at the approaching mob. She too was dressed in stolen armor, dark and crested with lines of bronze and reinforced with curved iron plates, like Darien's. Luckily, some female versions were available; suits of the Ares' right hand, no doubt. Still, Darien thought, she looked amazing in the armor. She could not fit the leggings though, and in there laid the root of her troubles. Hidden beneath the thick leather fringes of her armor, her otherwise human body transformed into a monster. That of Medusa.
Beneath her, her emerald snake body grew from her hips and out for almost 30 feet, giving her an imposing size despite the human size of her torso, tall as it was. She could not fit a helmet either, as her snake hair grew almost a foot in length, slithering coils and rope of green scales ended with the snapping jaws of snakes alike. Claws, long and sharp decorated her armored hands, and fangs hid behind luscious lips. Her human half's skin was a pale beige in the sun; the skin of someone who hid in darkness. Her yellow snake eyes were captivating and deadly, and she knew it all too well.
"No! No I'm not running this time! Damn this all to Hades, I'm going to slaughter all of them!" Turning her back to Darien, the gorgon faced the oncoming crowd, armed with only herself and ready to kill.
"By the gods, she'll get us both killed," the thief muttered, lowering himself further to hide his presence from the oncoming mob.
With a roar of seeded hatred and religious conviction, the crowd approached. Armed with clubs and swords, the townsfolk had acted of their own volition; they carried no soldiers with them. Their mistake, Medusa snickered to herself. Raising her body with her snake tail, she slithered up to 10-feet in height and simply waited for the crowd. They grew closer, surrounding her with her back to the wall. She glanced from one to the other as they came to a stop, tightening their semi-circle around her. No warriors, no killers or barbarians, just townsfolk driven blind by faith.
She spat upon the sand at their feet.
"You know why we've come, snake demon." An older man stepped from the crowd, hair grey and white with age, but body hard and thick with a working man's life. She guessed him at 50-years-old, someone potentially wise, and yet just another slave to the whims of his masters.
"To commit murder," she hissed at them, slowly opening her mouth to expose her massive snake-fangs before hiding them once more. She had a vixen's voice, deep and sultry.
"To do the will of the gods! You, monster, shall die for your wrong doings."
"Wrong doings!? I was raped by your god! You think I've forgotten, that I'll ever forget what your wretched 'god' of the seas did to me?" She slithered forward, closing the distance between them a few feet as rage filled her. She slammed a large portion of her tail into the ground, causing sand and dust to stir and the earth to vibrate with her malice.
"Your lies will stop. You dare to accuse Poseidon of such a thing, to accuse Athena of even worse! You are but a monster, born a monster, and shall die a monster." With that, the elder man lifted his club and leaped to strike her body, blinded by faith and driven by conviction. Medusa felt no regret in her response.
Leaning down to stare upon the rushing worker, Medusa unleashed her hatred. Her face, for just a moment of pure and immeasurable rage, covered itself in scales. Her eyes flared bright yellow, and her mouth opened inhumanly wide as she screamed a banshee's wail, exposing her massive snake fangs and warping her face into a sick mess of stretched skin and new scales that ripped through torn flesh. Her entire body shook with wrath, and pulses of golden energy erupted from her gaze, engulfing the human.
The mob froze in fright as their leader's body changed mid leap. His clothes changed first, hardening and changing in color until they thickened into stone with the transformation. His skin was next, breaking in cracks that veined across his body as his flesh turned to rock. In almost an instant the elderly man, once full of pride and righteous fury, fell forward to the sand a statue of stone. The crowd gasped with the sight, stepping back a couple of feet from the gorgon as her features returned to normal, the damage done to her skin vanishing in a moment.
"Come on, who wishes to die next? I'll decorate my garden with your heads." She panted openly with the strain of her attack, winded and tired with the effort. She could not do that again for some time, and she hoped the fear she had struck into their hearts would be enough to deter them.
She was wrong.
Outraged by the death of their leader, the crowd rushed to her, weapons raised and battle cries shouted. She backed up and pressed her body to the wall of stone, ready to tear and shred the first who came within reach of her, and die murdering the servants of her enemy.
A spear smashed against the first man's torso, causing the mob to stop in their tracks as a splatter of blood streaked to the sand. The force of the impact forced the attacker backward and onto his spine, his sternum crushed by the shock and insides pierced to the core. He died gargling blood as it seeped into pierced lungs.
The crowd looked up and raised their hands, blocking the sunlight that crested over the cliff, trying to spot the source of the attack.
"It's the thief! Where is he!?" a man in the crowd shouted, drawing a sword from a sheath and stepping towards the serpent. "Where's your accomplice?"
Jumping from the cliff with deadly silence, Darien launched himself down upon the approaching farmer with sword and shield in hand. The innocent lad did not feel the impact of the sword as it pierced straight down through his skull, or how its force caused his spine to crack and his collar bone to snap loudly. Darien drove his knees down onto his victim's shoulders as he landed on his standing form, the weight of the collision forcing the victim onto his back like the one skewered on the spear, giving the thief something to land on from the high jump.
"A mob... is far more a monster than she," he spoke softly, voice betraying the brutality of the two lives he just took. He raised his gaze to look at the crowd, their shocked faces drawn to his eyes from within his helmet. They were empty, completely blank and nothing but white orbs, earning a gasp from the horde. With emotionless calculation, the armed thief ran forward with sword and shield, catching the group of onlookers entirely by surprise as he began the bloodbath. Medusa could only stare in shock at the sudden torrent of death that swept out in her friend's wake.
"Get him! He's just a - " Another member of the crowd suddenly silenced by a slashing sword, Darien wasted no time with pleasantries or heroics. He took a step forward with every lunge, smashing his shield of metal into the faces of rushing townsfolk and crushing their noses to bloody explosions. He drove his sword into the neck of a nearby farmer, spinning with a downward arch that caused the splattering of blood to follow his sword in a spinning whirl that brought the sword upward into someone else's face. His weapon smashed through the jaw bone and up into his face, yet not pushing far enough to kill him, leaving him screaming in a bubbling mess of red as he fell to his knees.
A younger man, perhaps only 17-years-old, pushed some of his companions free of the murderer's carnage and parried Darien's imminent blow with a sword of his own. He returned a slash and struck hard, catching the thief in the side and causing him to fall to a knee. Some blood marked the side of his blade; he'd pierced the armor.
Darien did not make a sound, but instantly got to his feet and lunged forward with clean speed, driving his weapon into the boy's face. He felt the crack and dislodging of teeth against his blade as the sword drove into his target's mouth, cutting into the bone of the roof of his throat before crashing against the back of his skull, severing spine as it finally erupted out the other side of his being. He yanked the sword clear of the gargling boy's head and turned to face the crowd, ignoring the bleeding of his own wound with ruthless endurance.
Panic stricken by the unexpected massacre, the crowd finally turned and fled, screaming in fear over the sight of their fallen friends and family. They tripped over each other like maggots, running to safety as if Thanatos himself was on their heels. They left their companions behind, many choking on their own blood, dying slow deaths that Darien made no move to help along.
Consumed with a void that demanded sacrifice, Darien leaped with inhuman strength toward the fleeing crowd, catching one of the older men in his grasp and forcing him to the ground. "No, please don't!" he begged, arms raised in a panic and waving left and right desperately. The murderer did not hear him, and the last sight the pleading man saw was those empty, white eyes staring at him from within the Theban helmet as a sword was jammed down into his neck. His jugular gave way for a moment before splitting apart, muscles tearing and spine breaking as the blade pushed through to the ground.
"No more a monster than any of you..." the monster whispered to himself, reaching down to rip the tunic from the dying man's chest. Ignoring the final, gargled words of the victim, Darien cleaned the blood from his shield before hooking it onto his back and doing the same for his sword. He tossed the reddened fabric back onto the twitching man's body, and with no hesitation, turned to Medusa and walked her way, sheathing his weapon. With one fluid motion, he yanked the spear from his first target's body, took a moment to run its blood against the corpse's legs to clean it, and hooked it onto his back as well.
"Darien, I... I..." She was stunned. She knew Darien, she knew what he was capable of, but this, this shocked her. The gorgon moved away from him as he grew close, a spark of fear creeping up her spine as the smaller man's eyes finally regained their pupils and iris. "... thank you," she managed to mutter.
"Don't worry about it. Now come on, once the militia get here, we'll be lost to Tartarus us both." With a pace unhindered by his wound, the small man pulled himself back up the cliff side, leaving little droplets of red underneath his sandals as he did; both his victims and his own blood. Within no time, he pulled himself back to the top of the ledge, and turned back onto a knee to reach down for Medusa.
"You're going to bleed out lifting me," she said as she reached up, using her tail to push herself high into the air. Once Darien had her hand, he dug his sandals into the rock and sand, and pulled. His strength always surprised her, and with some aid from herself and using her slithering tail to grab and push against rocks, she was up there with him. Frowning down at him from her perch atop her snake body, she reached down and touched his side. Blood quickly covered her fingers, and she could see the trickle of its path reaching down his leg and onto the earth.
"Gods take you Darien, you've probably torn something," she sighed with worry, the snakes upon her head drooping with sadness.
"I'll be fine. Come on, I know a cave up in the hills where we can sleep for the night." Dismissing her worry with a casual shrug, the thief turned to the hills and began walking, only to stumble and fall to a knee. He grunted with frustration, letting out a quick burst of anger as he slammed a fist into the earth before pushing himself to his feet once more.
"Fine? You can barely stand, and you're going to bleed out." Reaching down, she scooped him into her arms and lifted him, holding him to her stomach as she started to slither forward. Darien's protests were short lived as he found himself seeing stars, now welcoming the chance to get off his feet. "Just point me the way, and I'll take us there."
As night settled and the sounds of exploring insects filled the air, Medusa sat Darien against the wall of the cave upon the furs they'd brought. The cave was dark save for the fire, and deep in its twisting depths there was no risk of light escaping.
"We can sleep here. No one's ever found it; I used to hide here all the time," Darien spoke between grunts, reaching down to undo the bindings of his breastplate. Slowly and delicately, he removed the armament and set it beside him, frowning at the sight of his tunic a mess of blood.
"Let me," the gorgon whispered, slithering her long body to lay beside him upon the rugged fur. As she acquired some cloth to clean the wound, Darien couldn't help but take the moment to admire her features. Her eyes were yellow snake eyes, and yet her face seemed so human, attractive and beautiful. Her eyebrows were thin but dark, and her eyelashes long and just as shadowy, highlighting the color of her eyes. Her face was smooth and slender, her lips thick and a dark pink. The snakes upon her head rested calmly against her, almost as if wanting to be touched, to be included, and Darien could not help but reach out to run his fingers along their scaled lengths. Despite their glistening skin, they were dry and smooth to the touch, and coiled instinctively around his fingers in gentle hugs.
His contact earned a soft sigh from Medusa. She slid in closer till her torso, still armored, nudged against his own. Much of her snake length slid about the cave floor, occasionally running up onto his legs to rest against his skin, scales smooth and relaxing and ever-shifting.
"You heal quickly Darien, very quickly," she smiled to him, sliding the tunic from his body to fully expose his torso. Clad now only in wraps about his pelvis, Medusa too took a moment to admire the man's body. He was thin, and short at only maybe a woman's usual height, and yet muscles defined his tanned form. She could easily count the abs of his body, or the serratus muscles under his arms that connected to them. His pectorals were flat and yet chiseled, and his limbs were just as toned.
His face was one that was ever-young, a trim short beard of brown and tussled brown hair doing little to hide his natural, youthful look. Still, in his eyes, she could see an age in them. He was older than he let on, much older she imagined. They grew cold with distant thoughts, and she had to struggle to bring him back to the real world sometimes, as if the ice that gripped him during the slaughter was something that constantly fought to pull him under.
"The joys of my bloodline, I guess," he smiled back to her as he resurfaced from his thoughts, running his fingers down the lengths of the gentle underbellies of her snake-hair. She almost cooed with quiet delight, leaning her head into his touch until lowering it down to his shoulder, laying there beside him.
"You'll have to tell me about that someday," she whispered seductively, running her hand up and down the man's abs with teasing claws. The wound had sealed inhumanly quickly, and she was determined to one day find out how it could do such a thing.
"Someday," he nodded, holding the she-demon to him in a gentle embrace.
She simply stayed there for a moment, occasionally nudging her head against her patient's neck, hiding her face in the nook of his shoulder. She didn't want to separate the connection, and as time passed, more of her snake half coiled and shifted about his legs, neither trapping nor releasing him. Afraid to let go as if he'd sink into the death trance he had before, she just held onto him, almost desperate for the contact. A snake clinging to her lifeline.
"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered to her, holding her to him and turning his head to plant soft, gentle kisses upon her forehead. Her hair slithered out to meet him, noses bumping and nudging against his own hair in curious exploration.
"I know, I just... it's..." She hesitated, not sure what to say to him, not sure how to explain what he already knew. She looked up to him, finding his waiting gaze. Before in the slaughter, his eyes were empty and cold, and now they... weren't. She leaned up and rested her forehead to his, arm reaching out to hold his chest to enjoy the closeness, her tender, thick lips just barely touching his own.
"Thank you... for today," she mouthed almost inaudibly, eyes drifting half-closed.
"I said don't worry about it," he said softly, "I couldn't leave you... I... didn't want to lose you."
His words made her smile, a smile that made her look young, as if the years and layers of damage and decay that had worn her down to the point of murder had lessened. She clutched him close and tight, pulling a grunt from him as his wound pressed to her armor.
"Oh, sorry," she whispered, turning just enough to put a palm to the fur and push herself to a sitting position, coiling much of her snake length beneath her. "I'll just remove this." Blushing with a small grin, she undid the bindings of her armor, slowly but surely removing the gloves and eventually the breastplate that hid her skin from view. The sight opened Darien's eyes wide.
Naked, Medusa was unbelievably beautiful. Poseidon had raped her, but with the captivating image in front of him, Darien could not entirely blame him for it. Her skin was smooth and curved with the subtle indentation of muscle, giving her a tight waist and a flat stomach. Her hips dipped outwards with a wide arc where the scales began, marking the edge between woman and snake. Her breasts were marvelous, huge mounds of soft flesh that curved into round, perfect ovals against her ribs, hiding them from view. What little sag caused by their weight only highlighted their size and volume, making their spherical shape press to her delicious skin. Her nipples were equally as appealing, large pink buttons perfectly circular and pointed with desire. Far beneath her naval, where the scales and skin met, a deep V dipped down into the scale where human skin still existed, and at the base were folds of her pink pussy. It was still human despite the transformation, floating just above her scales, and Darien couldn't help but stare at the view with abandon.
With coiling body, she lowered herself back down to lay next to the man, pressing her torso against his side. She gently rubbed herself against him, shifting herself till her chest rested upon his sternum, her breasts molding to his hard body with their weight.