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Also, who was going to tell them my entire life was a hurdle? I hadn’t stopped hurdling since I’d come out of the womb.
“Initiates, do you have what it takes—TO BECOME A GOD?” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. My gut reaction is no.
I had a bad feeling I was about to unlock a new level of suffering.
Hades and Persephone. Their love was legendary.
Hell was not a place; it was cracked bones and hoarse shouts in the middle of a scrum. It was fighting in a melee of screaming black fog that sounded alarmingly like my foster parents.
Their blows did nothing, because I knew how to take a beating.
They hurt Nyx. She’s always been there. Curled around me in a cardboard box.
I was half-naked, covered in scraps and streaks of sand, but I couldn’t find the energy to care. Free the nipple and the lips (vaginal)?
“Snap out of it, girl.” My head snapped to the side as she slapped me across the face. Who does that to someone they just met? Dorean would—I missed her.
the little old lady (violent assaulter)
The son of the most beautiful woman in the history of the world radiated hatred.
There was comfort in wearing a mask and pretending everything was all right. I’d done it every day of my miserable life.
I did the next best thing to dying—I fainted.
For all I knew, they could try to harvest my organs. No one’s taking my kidney. Especially not for free. I could get at least ten food vouchers for it.
Patro tentatively grabbed either side of my waist, like he didn’t want to touch me. The feeling was mutual.
The winged abomination (I’d never liked birds)
“How the fuck are you still alive?” Patro asked softly. I’ve been asking myself that for years.
Since he couldn’t speak with the muzzle, it was unclear what he was thinking. I was jealous. If I had a muzzle, then people wouldn’t expect me to talk to them. I wonder if he’ll let me borrow it.
The doctors plastered themselves against the wall, as far from the raging beast (Patro) as they could get. Relatable—take me with you.
A foreign sensation of intrigue and curiosity filled my chest; it was obsessive. I’d never felt anything like it.
I raised my bandaged middle finger into the air, delirium making me bold. He laughed darkly. At least Satan finds me funny.
Nice, I’m already losing my mind. Nineteen is not my year.
My flesh was mine, and no person was seeing it unless I wanted them to.
Thank God, there’s hope yet. Maybe Sparta will fall and I can live in peace.
I never wanted to get married. Having to touch another person sexually. Hard pass.
Some wounds are so visible that no one can ever see them.
“We can’t just test your blood. You’re not just a weak human anymore. Spartan blood is too acidic to test. Obviously.” Literally nothing is obvious about Sparta.
At this point, it feels like everyone is trying to give me father issues.
Silence stretched, and it got awkward again. Or maybe it’s always been awkward? I tended to have that effect on people, especially men. It was probably my giant boobs, curvy body, and bubbly, extroverted personality.
I was surprised he didn’t punch the wall like a psycho. There was a crunching sound and a bellow—there went the wall. Classic.
I asked, because Nyx said it was important to make conversation and not stare at people in silence (I wasn’t convinced).
“A half-human female Chthonic is literally impossible—our power would rip you to shreds from the inside out. It would tear you into pathetic pieces and boil your womb. You can’t even fathom what we feel.” Riveting. Sounds like an average menstrual cycle.
Patro’s eyes twitched like he was having an aneurysm. I waited with anticipation. Sadly, he did not drop dead. There’s no justice left in this cold, cruel world.
I pressed my fingers into my forehead and prayed a meteor would fall from the asteroid belt and strike me dead. Please, God, hit me with your best shot. I’m ready.
God did not, in fact, hit me with his best shot.
I leaned back on my lounge chair and sunned myself (dreamed of death and tried to make a bigger target for the asteroid). Fingers crossed.
I grimaced at his expression—cheerful people freaked me out. What do they have to feel good about these days? Genuinely. I want to know.
I’d never been a bird girl. No, it wasn’t because neighbor Paul (post shovel-to-the-head incident) used to scream from his trailer porch that birds were government surveillance drones. It was just—no one had proved birds weren’t spying on us.
Time resumed its leisurely stroll (death march).
Good birdy. Please don’t use your razor-sharp talons to scalp me. The hawk snapped its beak like it was hungry for my brain juices.
“WE SEPARATE THE ANIMALS FROM THE GODS!”
“This is the bathroom—a privilege you don’t deserve. Back in my day, we shit in a hole.” He puffed up his chest like he was proud of that statement. Were people okay?
It was barren and cold. Dark. Damp. Depressing as heck. Honestly, it has the same vibes as high school.
General Cleandro vibrated with barely constrained glee. He could also benefit from a few whacks of a shovel.
A few women in white togas milled about, putting books on the shelves and translating texts at desks. I almost cried because I wasn’t the only female around.
“You’ll show the muses respect,” he spat. “Or you’ll be killed.” It was potentially not a good sign that he sounded hopeful.
“As I said before,” he said as his hawk (government surveillance drone) stared at us.
it’s all quite simple.” Simply awful.
“This is about separating the weak from the gods—if the Titans picking you off helps do so, then so be it. Understood?” “Yes, General.” Actually, I don’t understand, and I have a lot of questions.
Mental note—start praying for my soul. Aggressively.
