Betrayal in Elysium

There was a time, a long time ago granted, but a time nonetheless when I had everything.

I had two loving parents who doted heavily on me, as well as my twin brother. We were their pride and joy. My mother was the first woman, created from man’s ribcage. A beautiful woman with strawberry blonde hair that fell to her waist in thick waves, eyes as blue as the sky God created for us. My father, though not my birth father, had dark hair that he tied back with flower stems or vines. His eyes matched my mother’s, my own, and my twin’s.

We were happy, even after God had kicked my parents out of the Garden of Eden, we still managed to pick up the pieces and begin life anew. It was a beautiful life. We did our part. We planted food and shared our crops. We hunted animals and used every bit of them so as not to waste the creatures that God had so graciously given us.

“Wonderful,” God had breathed to me, His breath the cool summer wind on my face, “You have done so well, Abel. I’m proud of you. How quickly you’ve grown to become man.” The praise had lifted my spirits that day. I bathed in it, relieved that I had finally done something right for once.

“Did you hear Him say those things? He was so happy for me.” I told Cain later that day. Cain had only grunted and I was confused as to why he wasn’t as happy for me as God was.

Cain was always so nice to me.

He doted on me more than our parents did. He was my best friend, my brother, and even my lover. No one thought it was dirty at that time. There were still too few of us to actually seek out and make new families at the time, and God just wanted us to live in peace and be happy.

At that time, there was no such thing as sin, really.

Mistakes? Yes.

Sins? No.

For a while anyway.

“Are you mad at me?” I remembered asking Cain, coming to sit beside him as he sat beside a large boulder we’d dug up to use for the table to smash herbs into powder and convert to oils. At that time, Cain’s hair was longer and very straight, naturally so. He tied it back like our father did, save for his bangs that fell across his face, his blue eyes narrowed in anger as he viciously beat at a stem of mint.

“You looked very happy when God complimented you.” Cain said, his teeth gritted. I still didn’t understand his anger, even today.

Was he mad that God had barely even paid him any mind today?

That wasn’t fair, I remembered thinking. God had always paid attention to Cain up until today. For once, God spoke to me and gave me praise. Why wasn’t Cain happy for me? I had become a man, just like him. Even though we were the same age, it was still different. He treated me like I was the younger one.

“Of course I did,” I muttered, “He actually said I did something good. Was it not good?”

“It was good,” Cain answered briefly.

I was still confused, so I sat beside my brother and watched him as he beat the herbs, grinding them up and pouring them into a small round bowl made of stone. He set it there and stared at it for a moment before he turned to look at me with piercing blue eyes that made my cock stand up. His eyes became hooded with hunger and he leaned in, capturing my lips. A moan escaped my lips as he molded his lips to mind, dominating me.

I was okay with that; after all, he was my brother.

Cain was very good to me, even when we made love, he never did anything on purpose to hurt me. His nips were playful and gentle, his hands tender and careful. He never insulted me or cursed me, but whispered how much he loved me, that only he was allowed to have me.

And I was okay with that.

Because he was my brother, my best friend, and my lover.

“You’re beautiful,” Cain had whispered to me that night as he put his arm around me, hugging me tight to his chest. It was a possessive gesture that I found so unlike him, but it made me smile as I hugged his arm to my chest.

I had drifted on and off through sleep. I couldn’t stop the nagging at the back of my mind that something was wrong.

And to this day, I curse my stupidity for not noticing it before. How could I have, though? At that time, there was no violence. There wasn’t even a word for it. There wasn’t even a word for hate.

I woke up to tend to the crops once dawn had come and I heard Cain call my name from behind me, so I turned to him when he slashed a sharpened wooden dagger into my throat. I remembered the unimaginable pain that tore through me as I gasped, reaching up to press my hands to my throat, watching the bright red blood gush free all over my fingers.

I looked up, choking as I tried to suck air in, but I was getting nothing, but mouthfuls of my own bitter metallic blood as Cain glared at me, watching me sink to my knees.

“Cain,” I managed to choke, reaching up a bloody hand to him. He smacked it away, curling his lip at me as he gripped his dagger tight in his fist.

“I’m calling this death. What you are doing is dying.” He spat.

That was the last thing I saw and heard before the darkness had gripped me tightly, making me cold. My soul shot itself away from my corpse that had fallen to the soil. The ride was harsh and painful before I splashed into a river of other souls, all said souls floating around mindlessly as they went by.

I remembered being confused, terrified.

I had no idea where I was. I had no idea who these people were. I had never seen so many people before. I was just used to seeing my mother, father, and brother, and occasionally a very small family that passed by and even that was very rare.

Where had all these people come from?

Even worse, the realization that Cain had done this to me burned.

Why had he turned on me like that? He slit my throat and soaked the field with my blood.

He did this to me.

He gave me death.

A cold, cruel, dark death that left me to drown in a river of other souls for what felt like eternity when one day, I remembered a cold hand reaching through the murky darkness, ripping me out.

Hot pain coursed through my veins and I choked and gasped, the darkness clearing as I found myself staring down at bright green grass under my naked body. I looked around frantically until I saw a pair of black leather sandaled feet, a type of material I’d never seen before in such a color.

I jerked my head up and found myself staring at the man— No, the god, who had saved me from the agonizing river of souls.

He was extremely tall, well over seven feet, two times taller than my father had been. His hair was as black as death, cascading over his broad shoulders like a waterfall of darkness. His eyes were such a vibrant shade of blue I had never seen before, set in a devastatingly handsome face. He wore a loose black chiton, something I didn’t understand at the time. A cloak fell down his back and into the grass as he stared down his nose at me curiously before he spoke.

“You have my eyes,” he had stated. I was confused.

Who was this god?

He wasn’t my father, or God, or anyone I knew.

What did he mean by having his eyes?

“I don’t understand,” I choked, feeling tears well up in my eyes. The god’s face softened at that and he held his hand out.

“Then come here and let me help you understand.”

I had taken his hand and he had shown me a world that had existed longer than my own. It was a world of ancient wisdom and power.

The god that had saved me from the murky depths of death was Hades, my real father. I hadn’t understood how everything worked just yet, but Hades had promised to help me.

He even gave me a new home in a beautiful world called Elysium. A wonderful land that seemed to stretch until the setting sun. It looked nothing like the rest of the underworld. It was brighter, warmer, airy. The temperature wasn’t too hot or too cold. There were wooded areas and grassy fields, and homes made to suit whomever chose to live there.

I was even given a second-in-command of this heavenly realm, became friends with the inhabitants, who told me of their tales in the world of the living, in the mortal realm.

My world was slowly recovering from Cain’s betrayal, and then thirteen years later, Cain appeared to me again.

At first, I was terrified.

I didn’t want to be near him. How could I go anywhere near the brother who slashed my throat open as if I were nothing?

But he did it again.

That thing where he’s sly and manipulative. He apologized for hurting me, and while he didn’t give me a reason as to why he did it, I just accepted his apology.

I missed him, despite being angry and hurt. I missed having his arms around me, his breath on my face, his lips on my lips, his smile and his voice. I craved it all again, willing to throw myself into the pit of fire just so I could be with him again.

“You’re beautiful,” Cain had told me the night before, cradling me to his chest as we slept together in my bed in Elysium. I had felt so warm and so incredibly safe.

And then the next morning, Cain told me he wanted me to come with him to visit our father at his palace, so I agreed. We stood on the edge of the river Acheron, staring across the river at the elaborate, dark palace that belonged to the lord of the underworld. Cain had taken me by the hand and pulled me in to kiss him. I almost melted at how fantastic it was. No one kissed like Cain did.

And then grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back, glaring at me.

“I’m calling this death. What you are doing is dying,” he mocked, then shoved me back into the river of Acheron. The water was thick and soupy, swallowing me.

That kind of pain couldn’t be erased.

A pain equal to no other. It exceeded the pain of having all my bones broken, having my skin ripped from my body. And to accompany that physical agony was the mental anguish. The river’s power had resurfaced every hopeless thought, every miserable moment, every nightmare one could imagine.

I had managed to pull myself onto the shore, screaming in pain. Even though it felt like my body was being shredded, it looked to be intact. I didn’t have time to recover as Cain shoved me back against the cobblestones and jammed a knife right into my chest. I screamed again, trying to shove him back, but he overpowered me. He cut the knife right down the center of my chest, down to my navel, ripping me open and exposing all the raw flesh and organs inside.

I could still remember how his hand felt dipping into my chest and ripping my heart out.

And I remembered the way he tossed it aside carelessly before the familiar grips of death caught me and tore my soul from my corpse. And just as carelessly as my heart was thrown away, my soul too was cast back into the never ending river of souls that moaned and cried.

Once again, Hades came back for me. He was more callous this time, ripping my soul from the water and shoving it back into my body after he healed me. He sent me back to my home in Elysium, where I found my servants butchered and torn to pieces, including my second-in-command.

He was more than just my second-in-command.

He was my friend. The greatest friend I could have ever asked for.

And his head had been ripped from his body and stuck on a pike outside my palace.

From then on, I was alone in my huge house. Even in Elysium with all the heroes and do-gooders of the world, I didn’t think things could get any worse.

Until Cain killed me again. And this time, he tore my body apart, as if attempting to keep me from returning again. He ripped my limbs apart and cast them aside, much like the Egyptian god Seth did to his brother, Osiris. Hades came to help me again, but he couldn’t find all of my pieces, so he fused my corpse together with that of a hydra, so now I was deformed.

I returned, again.

And again, Cain betrayed me. He couldn’t kill me, so he did the next best thing.

He told Hades that I was allowing tainted souls into Elysium. The deal was that if someone slept with me, I’d let them into Elysium.

And Hades believed him.

My powers were ripped away from me and I was dumped on Malachi’s doorstep to serve as his right-hand.

I had been reduced from demigod to this stranger’s servant. I didn’t know Malachi at the time. I had avoided all my other brothers. They were probably much like Cain, so the last thing I wanted was more Cains and thus avoided them at all costs. Malachi wasn’t the nicest person in the world and for the longest time, I wanted to rip his head off and shove it where the sun don’t shine.

But after spending almost a century with the guy, I began to notice why Malachi was bitter and cold towards everyone. Hades didn’t love him like the rest of his sons. Malachi was just another son he could use to rule over a realm he was too lazy to watch over himself. Malachi sat alone night after night, tossing back drinks and staying up late into the night to avoid sleeping, afraid of nightmares that would plague him.

Malachi was as miserable as I was. I stopped insulting him and spitting at him, stopped wanting to poison his food and strangle him in his sleep. I did as I was told, even if it pissed me off.

And that was what I had been reduced to.

A pathetic right-hand that could be used as a shield, to a brother I couldn’t help, but feel sympathy for. Empathy even. I had grown attached to Malachi, and I hated myself for it. Even worse was that Adrian had come along and stolen all of Malachi’s attention. It wasn’t that I wanted his attention for myself, but the fact that Malachi was becoming happier.

He was smiling more often, laughing. He stopped drinking into the late hours and went to bed at a decent time. He’d taken to sharing a bed with Adrian. The worst part was that they hadn’t even had sex yet, despite what everyone else thought. Malachi wanted to take things slow because of Adrian’s past. So the two were actually in love.

“It makes me sick to my stomach.” I seethed, clenching my fists against the marble front desk in the main lobby of my new home in Inferi.

“What makes you sick?” Fos asked, making me glance out the corner of my eye in irritation at the female weather daemon. She was a tiny little thing with gold jewelry around her wrists and ankles, a tight black leather cat sui,t much like my own, hugging her curvy figure. Her midnight black hair was cut short, sort of like a pixie cut. Her eyes were like Malachi’s, the whites actually being black. But instead of blue irises, hers were a piercing shade of gold. She was one of Malachi’s servants, having been here since Malachi was a child. And she was completely devoted to him, so expressing my disgust in his current relationship was out of the question, even if it was usual for me to be inappropriate, I was too tired to argue with people.

“Everything,” I responded instead, eyeing the large empty lobby that was round in shape with a black marble floor and a few leather sofas lining the walls-- not that anyone used them when we came here anyway, “Look, I’m gonna go into town now while it’s still dry to grab some things. Let Malachi know.” Fos frowned, but didn’t try to stop me. She knew better.

I teleported from the front desk in Malachi’s palace to the wrought iron gates at the end of the marble stairs that led up to his home. Malachi’s place sat on a hill that over looked the small town of Inferi.

About 98% of the time, Inferi was flooded and pouring with icy cold rain that made it nearly impossible to do anything outside. Thankfully, today was one of the days it decided to stop raining.

Vendors opened their shops and some came out pushing carts with goodies and treats. Inferi was mainly an area of the underworld meant for lesser daemons, or creatures in general. Most of them were regular townfolk, having made Inferi there home. A few were important people, bustling around to get things that only Inferi sold, like the abundent candies and blood soaked cow meat. It was purposely meant to be a slap in the face to Hera, who fondly left her mark on Inferi. They say it’s her fault it rains in Inferi so much.

But who knew? I didn’t, nor did I care.

My body still ached, even two weeks after the vicious beating Cain had given me, only to be followed up by a loving bitchslap from Hades. Thinking about it boiled my blood straight to the core of my blackened soul. I had died more times than anyone I knew. And I was ready to die again if it meant I could take Cain with me so I could strangle his soul into oblivion.

He’d killed one of my favorite people. Everyone thought I was overreacting about just another prostitute, but Deo had been so much more than a prostitute to me. Sure, it was his job to be nice to me and satisfy me, but it was the feeling he gave me whenever I left him that brought me real joy.

Deo had always listened to me when I ranted and complained. He would praise me and agree with me on everything. He purred and mewled like a bitch in heat and he rode me like a man, not like a woman-- not unless I asked him to. He would let me sleep over and drape himself over my body like a blanket. I would fall asleep to the sound of his heart beat and quiet little snores. He’d let me pet his silky blonde hair until he fell asleep, or feel the corded muscles of his back.

What hurt even worse was that Deo wasn’t a prostitute just because. He was raising as much money as he could so he could go to the mortal realm and live there instead. He needed money, though, to pay off Cerberus. And I knew he thought sleeping with me would make the deal sweeter, that I would back him up if he could talk Cerberus into letting him out.

And I would have.

But now it was too late.

Deo was dead.

I had come into the usual brothel in Styx for a Friday night dose of angry sex after having to deal with another of Adrian’s temper tantrums about being mean to Dorean, when I saw the owner sobbing uncontrollably into a Kleenex. She proceeded to inform me that Cain had come in just hours before and had Hannibal slaughter Deo, right in front of his next client, a timid little water nymph that had gone into shock after witnessing the spectacle.

I had gone after Cain then, which granted, was stupid on my part, but I couldn’t stop the flow of rage from boiling my blood. He’d smashed my head into the floor and broken my spinal cord, which would have killed me if Hades hadn’t started me on a healthy diet of ambrosia and nectar.

And then Cerberus showed up and called Hades in seconds before Cain would have decapitated me. Good ol’ daddykins then punished both of us. He repeatedly bashed my head into the floor at his throne and none too kindly reset my spinal cord.

The up side was that I got to watch Hades beat Cain into a bloody pulp.

The down side of that was that Cain was mostly healed afterwards because of his full powers.

Even worse was that the brothel refused to take me back and even when I protested, they called Theo and I was forced to leave. Now, every time I tried to enter a brothel, they refused to serve me, saying they didn’t want their clients to be killed by my psychotic brother, who was hell bent on destroying my life.

And he still wouldn’t tell me why!

What the fucking hell could I have possibly done to piss him off enough to kill me a billion times and then cut me into pieces?

Maybe I forgot to flush.

Oh. That’s right. THERE WERE NO TOILETS BACK IN THE DAY. Sorry for pissin’ on the wrong rock and not covering it with dirt! Why don’t I just go out and buy me a cat tail and ears while I’m at it if I’m gonna use the litter box like a cat?

A growl formed in my throat the angrier I got. The people on the streets noticed too and instantly withdrew, refusing to be within physical contact range with me. It was like I carried some sort of disease now. No one would touch me or talk to me or go near. The only reason I was still allowed to go outside and buy things was because of Malachi’s power over them. Otherwise, I knew they’d be slamming their doors shut in my face.

I went to the furthest bar. It was on the other side of town, and on the nasty side. It was a three story brick building, well, half of it was made of bricks. The other half was a mixture of rocks torn up from the cobblestone street and wooden planks, a tarp here and there. Even from outside, I could hear laughter and shouting inside, mingling with the richest of bluesy bar music. The powerful odor of burning wood, booze, cigarette smoke, and other odd manners of stenches rose up my nostrils as I approached the front doors guarded by their bouncer.

The bouncer was a beefy guy, and totally sexy. His short brown hair was trimmed to perfection, stubble surrounding a stern handsome face with blazing green eyes set under regal brows. He was at least six foot with a black v-neck and matching leather pants to go with his tall buckled boots. A few feet away, a couple of prostitutes looked like they were debating an attempt to enter, so I approached them first.

The first girl was skinny with small breasts under a stylish black blouse to match her skirt and hooker boots. An oversized wool coat covered her body from the air that was still chilly from the rainy days. Her friend was taller and far more curvy, with breasts that barely fit in her form-fitting blood red dress that just barely hid her black thong, her high heels clicking nervously on the pavement.

“You ladies need something?” I asked, making them look up, startled at my sudden presence. The skinny one swallowed hard, scanning me up and down before turning to her friend questioningly. Her friend frowned, eyeing me suspiciously as she folded her arms over her chest.

“That depends. What would a servant of Malachi want with us?” She asked, her voice raspy from smoking and edged with caution. I wasn’t offended by that part, considering any prostitute would be wary of the men who approached her. It was the fact that she called me one of Malachi’s servants, but I was desperate to knock back a few drinks with some decent potency, so I smiled flirtatiously.

“A little company if you don’t mind? You don’t even have to sleep with me,” I offered, making them narrow their eyes and I waved my hand at them, “I’m serious. You’re not my type anyway. You’re missing an important body part.” The skinny one instantly relaxed, turning to her friend.

“He’s gay, Jahlia. He’s not gonna do anything.” She added, making her friend’s fierce green eyes snap fire. Jahlia glared at her smaller friend.

“Don’t be stupid, Mimi. Gay men are just as dangerous as straight men. Besides, he could be lying.” She added, eyeing me up and down. I raised an eyebrow at that, then smiled.

“Let’s cut a deal. Keep me company and I can get you into the bar, how about that?” I asked. Jahlia glared at me.

“And how do you propose to do that?” She asked. She wasn’t letting up one bit.

“Give me two minutes.” I told her, and left before she could say anything. I approached the bouncer, who straightened at the sight of me. His eyes dropped to my feet, then slowly rose up to check me out, which I was completely used to. His eyes ate me up and the bulge forming in his pants was very obvious. I bit my lip seductively as I approached him, lifting my eyes to meet his, watching the way they glinted hungrily in the street lamp.

“Hey,” I greeted, keeping my voice casual as I ran a hand carelessly down my side to rest on my hip, my eyes averting, “My friends and I want to get in. Is that all right?” The bouncer swallowed hard, glancing over at the women, who watched expectantly, before he turned back to me.

“Prostitutes aren’t allowed inside.” He answered briefly. I lifted a brow at that, pressing my arms down at my sides. I imagined his big rough hands running down my body, shivering a little and wondering what that would really feel like, letting my nipples harden to the point where he’d see them through the material of my uniform. His pupils visibly dilated, his tongue flying across his bottom lip.

“Ah, well, I guess... I could let you in. Just don’t pick up any customers.” He added with a warning glare, making me beam at him. I stepped closer and crooked my finger for him to stoop down so I could whisper in his ear. I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair and pressing my lips to his ear.

“Maybe when I’m done drinking, you can take me home, hot stuff.” I purred. The bouncer groaned and withdrew, pressing himself against the wall by the iron gates that covered the front door.

“I’d be happy to.” He responded, voice shaking. I grinned, then gestured for the prostitutes to come over. They shared wide eyed stares before scurrying over to me. We walked inside in silence, greeted by the familiar heat and pulsing music from a band in the corner that had switched from a bluesy song to a hard rock with plenty of guitar solos. The air was smokey and hot compared to outside. Black and blue lights were scattered around the room, hovering over round wooden tables and cheap plastic chairs. The bar was newly sanded and painted over with a cool blue shade, spotted with black and navy. The stools were all occupied, except a corner that I made my way to with the two prostitutes right at my heels.

“How did you do that?” Mimi whispered in awe, keeping close to my left. I smiled at her, even though I wanted to just push her down on a nearby table and fuck her. Yeah, that was a violent thought, but I was in a shitty mood and hadn’t had sex in two weeks, which was quite a shocker for me... Kind of anyway. I’d gone longer, but two weeks was where I started to get cranky. I wasn’t even into women, which just goes to show how desperate I was to get my cock in something.

“I really like men.” I responded. Mimi looked at Jahlia, who frowned, then turned to me.

“What’s your name?” She asked, obviously still not buying into my sweet talking act. I had to give her credit for catching on so quickly. Most people wanted to believe I was nice, like Adrian, but my decent personality had been lost when Cain cut my body up into pieces. Now I was left with the tail of a hydra, legs, and even my organs were from the hydra. I was able to keep a human form, sure, but the deformed half-hydra, half-human was my real form.

“Abel.” I responded at last. Jahlia instantly stopped walking to stare at me. She grabbed Mimi and pulled her to a halt, making the younger woman scowl in confusion, apparently not recognizing my name.

“Abel,” Jahlia repeated, voice tight, eyes narrowed to mere scorning slits, “You’re the one our employer warned us to stay away from. Everyone who comes in contact with you gets killed.” Mimi’s eyes widened and she instantly withdrew. I pinned Jahlia with a withering glare, curling my lip.

“Don’t flatter yourself, whore, I don’t sleep with women. And thanks, because now you’re turning off my buzz. Go pick up whatever customers you want. I’m gonna get a drink.” I responded coldly, turning my back and heading to the bar, flagging the bartender down and ordering a drink as I took a seat. A felt a presence approach me and turned to see Jahlia coming over, taking the stool beside me. Mimi had gone off to a group of men, who were laughing and cheering about a game that was playing on one of the televisions.

“Do you want to die?” I asked Jahlia dryly as she ordered a martini. She glanced at me out the corner of her darkly painted eyes, reaching up to tuck a lock of curly black hair behind her ear.

“I’m a prostitute, Master Abel. Nobody cares what I want.” She said briefly. I paused at that, then looked away to stare at the drink the bartender pushed in front of me. I swirled the deep blue drink around in the glass before taking a sip, holding my glass out toward hers.

“Here, here. And call me Abel. “Master” makes me horny.” I added. Jahlia puckered her red lips, picking up her glass and clinking it against mine.

“Huh, you talk to your mother with that mouth, Abel?”

“If she was still alive and down here, nah. I couldn’t risk scarring her into oblivion.” I answered. I swore I saw the corner of Jahlia’s lips turn up, but she looked away to take a drink of her bloody mary so that I couldn’t see. I took a swig of my drink, closing my eyes as I savored the harsh burn of alcohol rushing down my throat and sloshing into my stomach, like liquid fire.

This was gonna be a fun night.