Medusa: Fate's Game Ch. 11

Like ants.

She picked up a rock, and threw it ahead of one of the patrols. It landed in the dark far ahead of them, so the patrol couldn't tell where it came from, but that didn't change that it landed with a very loud crack. It was a big rock.

All five men turned to look at her with dropped jaws. Patrius and Darian in particular looked puzzled, after her dismay over Darian doing similar. She raised a finger to her lips, and then pointed to the patrol ahead.

Two guards and two manticore. They all stopped for a moment when the rock cracked against the street, then ran up to the obvious noise. With torches in hand, they were easy to track even through the fog, and Otrera followed them as she pulled herself up onto the mudbrick homes and sneaked across their roofs. A quick glance down to see what the men were up to: following her from the shadows beneath.

Ahead, the patrol had stopped at the rock. They looked at each other, and the manticores looked at the rock. The cats sniffed it a few times and snarled, but in the darkness and the heavy fog, she knew they wouldn't be able to connect the smell of the rock to where she was hiding. It was the guards she was staring at with peeled eyes. The guards looked at the rock, then at each other, then back at the rock, then back at each other. And then resumed their patrol.

What the fuck.

She climbed down the wall of the home back into the alley shadows, and knelt down with her companions deep where their voices would get cut off by the mudbrick and dirt.

"They aren't human," she said.

"Yeah, felines generally aren't human."

She grabbed Darian by the ear, and twisted. He fell over onto his back and clutched her wrist, but didn't make a sound; couldn't risk being heard.

"Not the manticore you dumbass. The guards."

"You mean because of the red eyes? That could be anything. Could just be a spell." Patrius didn't sound too convinced.

"And the fact you can't see their skin?" she said.

The men all shrugged. Except Darian. Darian wriggled and squirmed as she squeezed his ear harder.

"They didn't behave like men when they got to the rock. There was no doubt that someone threw that rock into the street, but I had a hunch, so I—"

"You gambled our secrecy on a hunch?" Tritus said.

"A woman's hunch. Much better than a man's." She grinned at him, and held back a snicker when he groaned. "I noticed on several occasions they were acting too rigidly, too direct, too... boring. Humans don't do that, not even the best trained guards or soldiers do that. So I tested it, and where a human would realize something was up, these guards only managed to investigate the noise, then leave. Like..."

"Like something mindless," Darian said. The man deserved a reward for his brain, and she let go of his ear before patting him on the shoulder as he got back up to foot and knee. "So maybe the reason we can't see their skin, the reason it's all black, is because... Andromeda is hiding what they are?"

Otrera nodded. "And now more guards are coming out further to patrol the city, probably because they've been losing more manticore. But no alarms sounded, no dialog between the guards, no nothing. Something... automatic, I guess, is happening. Andromeda's magic may be handling things itself, while the sorceress's eyes are elsewhere." Probably on preparing her spells and rituals for her assault on the Fates, however that was going to work.

Patrius stroked his beard, and all five men looked to each other with nods of affirmation.

"Let's discuss it more when we get back to the hideout," the old soldier said. "I want to know how Medusa and Chimera have been doing."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smooth sailing the rest of the way. This far out, the guards were rare, and the manticore even more rare; Medusa and Chimera hard at work. Darian and Patrius were smart men, with an eye for detail and a good ear for adaptation, but they weren't her. They didn't organize the city into a map in their minds, didn't arrange the patrols, count them, see how the patrols were adapting to the drop in manticore more like an ant hive instead of an army.

It felt good to be useful again.

The six of them used the trees to hide once they were far enough into the outer edge of the city. Rocks and bushes, short trees with prickly branches, they had to be careful where they walked in the night's veil. But at the same time, they could tell the manticore were far lower in number near the animal pen hideout than before, to the point they felt safe talking and stepping on a twig or two. Maybe a bad idea, but Otrera and Darian both kept their ears open — could a Fate's Child hear better than a regular human? She imagined yes, but that could have been pure ego.

Still, not a peep, not a growl or snarl or anything. And considering the manticore attacked on sight, it certainly seemed like things were clear. For now, until the new patrols eventually branched out.

The six of them slipped from the woods and toward the animal pen. There weren't many animals, just a few boar and sheep, but it was enough to keep their scent hidden. At least the room didn't smell of sex anymore, after they'd taken the time to clean up their... mess.

Patrius lifted the door, and the six of them hopped in.

"Hello."

Tritus gasped and jumped back. "The fuck? Medusa, you're supposed to hide in the second room."

"I... um..."

"What? Out with it!" Tritus approached her, hands in fists.

Medusa was holding a candle, and covered in blood and dirt. There were claw marks, bite marks, and everything in between along various parts of her body, the human half too. Drops of blood were on the floor, and a couple of pieces of snake skin.

Darian took one look at her, walked over, and hugged her. The woman melted down onto her small warrior, hugged him back, and rested her chin on his shoulder. It was so perfect, Otrera bit her tongue. Did they have to be so cute?

"I um... I did sssssssssssomething..."

Tritus didn't feel like waiting. The man walked past Medusa, glare included, and opened the door into the main room.

"Sophia? What in Tartarus—"

"Tritus." A woman's voice Otrera didn't recognize. Shit.

Everyone stepped into the next room once Patrius closed the door behind them. Enough candle light to be comfortable, they all dragged their exhausted bodies to the table in the center of the room, and stared at the new woman. A boy sat on her hip, just a young little thing, and he held his mother's hand tight while his other reached up to pluck at his lip as his wide eyes looked over the group, despite his obvious efforts to fight off sleep. A bandage was wrapped around his ankle.

"I'm guessing," Otrera said, "that Medusa heard this woman's cries when a manticore attacked her. And Medusa just had to save her." The Amazon walked up to Medusa, and jabbed the serpent in her scaly hip. Risk on top of risk on top of more risk.

"I had no choice! I could hear her, and..."

Darian stroked his woman's hand. They'd all come to sit at the table, while Medusa coiled up near its end next to her man.

"Any guards?" he said.

"Guards? The manticore?"

"No." Patrius, also sitting at the end of the table across from Darian, reached out to tilt a candle into another. "The guards are men with spears, armor. They wander the city closer to the center, and near the acropolis."

"Not men." Damn idiots never listen. "Just look like men. Red eyes, black skin, black as onyx. But they're as mindless as sheep. Aggressive sheep with spears, but sheep nonetheless. Also," she pointed to Sophia and her kid, "we just going to let these two in on everything?"

"I want to help." Sophia walked over to Medusa, nodded her tired little nod, and moved around the table to stand in front of Otrera. "I can help."

"And your child? Looks young enough to start crying any moment. We can't have—"

"Elias is mature for his age, and strong. Aren't you Elias?" And of course, the mother stroked the boy's head, patted his shoulder, and smiled down at him. The boy returned her smile with his own, but his eyes drifted around and back to Medusa with growing frequency. Well, at least he wasn't crying at the sight of the snake woman, or under the duress of the city curse, so that was something.

Sighing, Patrius withdrew the little jar from his tunic. "Here, open it and smell the contents."

While the mother and child did as told, the six of them — seven now — leaned in over the table and the candles.

"A manticore was going to take her son to be sssacrificed," Medusa said. "I couldn't just let them die."

"No, I don't suppose you could." Patrius chuckled, and tapped his finger a couple times on the table. "You are rewriting your own legend each moment you're with us, Medusa."

When Otrera glanced to Darian, she tilted her head to the side. The small warrior seemed content to observe quietly, fingers netted together, elbows on the table, while Medusa leaned on his shoulder. Darian was smarter than she gave him credit for, crafty, sneaky. He may not have had the mind of a tactician, but he was a devious sort, quick on his feet, and good at playing the fool when he wanted. He spent a lot of time watching Patrius, Tritus, and the others. What was going on in his mind?

"... wait a minute, where's Chimera?" Otrera said.

Medusa gasped, and raised her hand to her lips. "I forgot! Oh, in all the commotion, I... he said he has sssome things to do during the day."

Otrera buried her forehead in a palm, and dragged her fingers down her cheeks. Of course the airhead forgot.

"No clue what it was about?"

"No... no, it was very sudden."

Shrugging, she got up, and headed toward the door. "Then I'm going after him."

"Otrera." Darian reached out and grabbed her wrist as she walked by. "It's night, there's fog everywhere, and Chimera is more than capable of hiding his tracks. You won't be able to find him if he doesn't want to be found."

"Then I better hope he does want to be found." She threw his grip off, and started toward the door again. No reason to slam him with his hypocrisy; if the situation were reversed, he'd be doing the same thing. And he knew it too. His protest was short lived, and once she reached the door, he smiled and nodded.

The others weren't so easily convinced.

"You can't go out there," Patrius said. "Come the day, the curse lifts but the sorceress's eyes are everywhere. People who do anything suspicious during the day are taken away come nightfall."

"Yeah, I get that. If we can't get back before dawn, then we'll stay out in the woods. Any manticore come, we'll take care of it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Getting out of the city unspotted was easy. Where the manticore had been a constant worry, now their numbers were dwindled considerably. Course, that was just a theory. For all she knew, Andromeda's spells had renewed their numbers.

Why manticore anyway? An odd choice for the sorceress. Darian and now Patrius agreed she was controlling a sea creature too. Why the secret island with nymphs? Why the undead at the volcano? Why a love for Perseus?

Memories of Andromeda drifted through her mind. A beautiful woman, cold, hard. She respected that. She didn't respect Andromeda manipulating her, indirectly as it was. Hate for Andromeda, or hate for herself? Both, definitely both. But a little self hate was good for the soul.

She had a couple hours before the sun would be up, and if she couldn't find Chimera by then, she'd be staying out in the day. As long as she stayed away from the city come sunrise, and hid in the harsh terrain, that was fine too. Getting caught by manticore wouldn't be good, but she could take care of herself, now that she knew what she was dealing with.

So the only issue was finding Chimera, and the bastard was basically a stalking lion when he wanted to be. Undetectable when he wanted to be. She'd have no tracks to follow unless he left them on purpose, and she'd never see or hear him unless he wanted to be seen and heard, with the dense forest, multitude of steep cliffs, and caves the terrain held.

Where to then? The cave where they spent their first night? The beach where their ship arrived? Or...

Sighing, she crouched down underneath an array of branches, and made her way toward the cave. It wasn't too far from the city, and she knew the path. From there, it was simple memory to follow the trail Chimera had created that night when he'd left to go slaughter a couple manticore.

She gulped. Slaughter was too nice a word for what he'd done. Sometimes she forgot he was a giant — other than being giant in size — and that meant inhuman desires. Brutally crushing creatures into pulp, actual literal pulp, seemed odd though. She'd stomached her sudden fear and worry, stepped into the mess, and helped calm him down. That moment he'd almost slammed his hand down onto her, but stopped himself; the very thought of it had her trembling. She'd have cracked in half and, demigod or not, she'd be dead.

But he'd stopped. Not only stopped, they'd gone into the city, made friends — sort of, anyway — and had a delightful night of sex. Again, despite her earlier intent of having sex less.

Always thinking with your legs, Otrera.

It was Medusa's fault! She thought the curvy nymph was stacked, but Medusa's breasts were absurd, and the curvy but slim physique, the wide hips and narrow waist? A body made for the bedroom. And seeing her strip and start masturbating, right in front of her? There was only so much Otrera could take before she had to have some.

A twig cracked Otrera across the face, but it didn't shake her grin. She hadn't expected Chimera to take her over and sit closer to Darian and Medusa. And having sex next to others, no one being sneaky about what they were up to, everyone just having great sex and cumming and hearing each other's noises and seeing all the bits? Medusa coiling around Darian, and Chimera pinning Otrera to his chest, hand around her throat, holding her while she struggled to handle being skewered by his dick? If there was one damn thing she was happy about being a part of this ridiculous adventure for, it was the sex. She'd have to see if she could take that situation a little further next time.

A second twig cracked her, this time right in the nose. Take the hint Otrera, focus.

The path to the open field they'd found Chimera in was easy enough to follow. Ten minutes later, she was out in the open grass, and sure enough Chimera was too, head tilted up to stare at the clouds above.

He was grimacing.

"Are you not satisfied?" he said to no one.

She got down, and stayed near the forest edge. Tall grass, shadows, the fog, and being upwind from the beast meant she could hide, as long as she didn't move and stayed quiet. But what the fuck was going on? He was talking to himself, but people didn't talk to themselves like that.

"I said I will not harm her. Begone." The giant threw his arms up and started pacing around in a circle. His lion pelt was raised, his head buried in its massive jaw, and it swayed a little behind him as he walked. "Or her! I no longer need you. Stop this madness."

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~~Chimera~~

"No."

The beast circled around him, paws forever wisps of black mist against the gray of the fog. The grass both did and did not bend to his touch, existing in two states while the creature passed over. Black dripped from its fangs like blood.

"I said begone, beast."

"And I said no. Do you really think these past couple of months have changed you, 'Chimera'? You still hunger for the slaughter, mayhem, carnage, death."

"I do not! It is you who hungers for these. I... I no longer need those." He might as well have been arguing with a tree. The black beast did not care for reasons, for changes or adaptations, for truth. It cared only for destruction.

"Of course you need those. Stupid giant. You would be nothing if not for me, alone and broken."

"I do not deny that! But things are different now. Things have changed, and I can change." He stomped his foot down, hard enough to shake the ground. No manticore were near, not after the amount he'd killed tonight already. And if any were, they'd attack blindly as they always did, and he'd kill them. He hoped one did.

"You are a joke, Chimera. As if you could change yourself in such a small time. As if you don't still crave the sensation of cracking bones in your palm, of blood gushing over your fingers and down your chest, of organs bursting." It came closer, and walked over the corpses of the manticore he'd killed last night. "As if you don't wish for the screams of your enemies to fill your ears."

"My enemi—"

"Not just your enemies! As if, deep down, you don't wish to walk into that city of cowards, and grind their bodies into blood and dust."

"No. I will help them."

"Why?"

"You have stalked me all these years, beast. You know what I have seen, from Medusa, and Bellerophontes. They have shown values I did not know humans capable of. And Otrera... perhaps I can find a little happiness of my own in her."

Saying the words cut through him with searing knives, and exposed his neck to the beast. But the beast was always there; there was no use in lying to it.

"The Amazon is a delicious little thing, Chimera, I do not deny. A tight fit." The beast laughed, a mix of roar and chuckle, and came closer to him. "Choke her harder. Feel her die on your—"

"No! Vile, disgusting thing. I will not harm her. What purpose would there be in harming her, when all it would do is harm me to lose her?" He spun and swung the back of his hand toward the beast. But his hand passed through it as it collapsed into black mist, and reformed near the corpses of earlier.

"For the sensation of death in your grip, and blood on your skin. Why do you deny your desires so?"

"Because they are old, dead things I no longer need to survive. And now that I have seen the other side, I would not want them even if I did need them."

That was it, wasn't it? He'd never tasted the other side, never known what it was like from within their borders. Always from the outside, always as the enemy, as the monster, the animal, he watched the humans grow and fight and kill. So easy it was, to cast judgment, to hate them for their devotion to the leeches above, to hate them for hating him and his kind. A peek over the fence to the other side, and his opinion changed.

Could he change? What a disgusting cliché, self loathing and self deception combined. Hundreds of years playing the monster for humans, and now he wanted to change.

"What a joke," the beast said.

"Perhaps. But maybe it is the only way to find peace, beast, to accept the cruel joke of what you have done to me. What I have done to me. And leave it behind."

"You will not survive without me!"

"Then so be it!"

The beast stepped back, and looked around. For the first time in hundreds of years, there was uncertainty in its gaze.

"You will die."

"Then I will die."

"No you won't!"

Chimera and the beast looked to the new voice. Gods, not now. Otrera ran over to him from the forest, a frown on her face and eyes glaring. As she approached, the beast faded away, leaving only the giant and his shame.

"So you're full on psycho, is that it?" The little bundle of ice and fire jabbed him in the leg with one of her knuckles. "Talking to someone who isn't there?"

"... how long have you been watching?"

"Long enough to know you are hilariously verbose and over-the-top ridiculous when you give a speech. Long enough to know that you want to change, and that you... care about me."

The following silence was deafening. He said nothing, only stared down at the little woman with heavy eyes, and she in return stared up at him with furrowed brow.

"You do sound like a poet," she said at last. "A very bad poet, mind you, but a poet. I can appreciate bad poetry."