KEEPSAKE

chapter thirtyone

31 AT LONG LAST

HER EYES FOLLOW AS DUST CLOUDS FLOAT IN THE ROOM. ITS MESMERIZING AND OTHERWORLDLY IN A SENSE.

Little cotton balls flying away and away from all the trouble that follows, sweeping any happiness with them. She watches and wishes she could be swept up. But the happiness she lacks is too immense.

It's easy to lose track of time stuck between four walls. Four empty walls that contain a shallow breath and a mattress that smells like a decayed body.

Adonis' body is decaying, probably.

She thinks about that. She thinks of his beautiful smile. Of his golden hair that gleams every time it falls in his face. The wink in those wiggling eyebrows, the tease that shines through the way he walks. So cautious, so slow, so simple. And now his body must be so different.

Dark and holed. Empty of life. Starved for one last heave. Withered like an elder human who forgot to take his medicine. That's not Adonis; god of beauty. That's just a boy. A dead boy who forgot that he still had a will to live. That forgot how much damage his death would wake.

She winces when her eyes peal away from the dust balls and find the crusted blood attached to her skin. Its peeling in her pan from sweat. Dark and moldy, her hands are wrenched in stench and blood. Adonis' blood.

She can't help herself from playing the game. She blames Apollo first. For helping Zeus in this malicious attack. Then she blames Zeus. He let the arrow fly. And then, finally, she settles on herself. She was supposed to die. That arrow was destined for Artemis.

Death and misery were chanting for her but instead Adonis fled for the light.

       Carelessly she picks at a scab on her cheek. One caused by a guard after he tried to strain her and she fought back. What did he think she was gonna do? Accept defeat? Have you met Artemis?

       A part of her, a small part of her wants to do that. Give up and become stagnant. Just after Adonis died, she felt hopeless. Like everything was finally taken from her. But then she remembered who she was. A fighter, and a fighter doesn't give up. They accept their losses and move on.

       And that's exactly what she will do.

      Once she figures out a way to escape this hellhole.

       Which judging by the sound of the door unlocking and moving to open, could be much easier than at first thought.

       The door clinks shut and footsteps pronounce themselves into the room. Artemis can't recognize them. She wants to turn over but it'd take too much effort than she beholds.

       The shoes press down into the cement until they step into Artemis' view. It's a man? The figure bends down on their knees and now Artemis can see fully who it is.

       In another lifetime, she'd be out of breath and frightened by the oh too familiar face. But instead a calmness settles over her and lets her shoulders slump a little easier.

       Hades releases sigh, his eyes stained on her hands that are dry and bloody. Before she can comprehend what's happening, he drawls out a washcloth and begins scrubbing at her palms.