Against the Gods

Persephone stirred as a heavy pain throbbed in her head. She quickly regained consciousness as the pain shot down the rest of her body, causing it to vibrate with discomfort. She moaned, twisting her head and opening her eyes. Sheets of her tawny hair fell over her face, obscuring her vision yet she knew she was not where she should be. She was lying awkwardly on her belly on a hard, uncovered mattress in the middle of a white room. Persephone hoisted her self up by her hands and looked around. The room was plain and bare with whitewashed walls. There was a cup of water and a plate with a sandwich next to the mattress. There was only one door, no windows and a very dim light hanging high above her. The floor was the most disturbing. It was concrete with stains of deep red splattered everywhere.

The memories of the previous night came back to her fast as she examined her surroundings more closely. She had been out with Daphne, the wood nymph, to have a bit of mortal fun. They had gone to the movie to see some slasher flick before ‘coincidently’ running into two mortal boys that Daphne had befriended. It had been an obvious ploy for Daphne to get laid and she just suckered Persephone into it. It was no big surprise. It was very typical of Daphne to pull something like that. (A/N: Lame joke) She put the ‘nymph’ in ‘nymphomaniac’. Persephone had met the boys two weeks before at a club where Daphne hooked up with Vincent leaving her alone with Samuel. They talked and it had been quite pleasant but Samuel had seemed a tad…annoyed. Then déjà vu, last night Daphne ran off with Vincent again, leaving Persephone with Samuel. This time, was not the least bit distracted and they had talked for hours until Persephone realized the time. On her way to the bus, she was attacked and…..SHIT!

Shifting her weight abruptly to sit up, Persephone realized her movement was constrained. Her eyes fell to a long, thick chain that led to an anchor on the floor. Her hand flew to her ankle and for the first time she felt the warm pressure of metal against her skin. Persephone was suddenly thrown into a panic as she frantically tried to pull her leg through the clasp. Her fingers desperately tugged and strained against the clamp but all she received was bolt of pain. Standing up, Persephone grabbed the chain with both hands and tried to give it a powerful yank. The sudden movement and the stubbornness of the chain cause her to stumble back onto the mattress, dizzy. When the dizziness passed, Persephone was on her feet and continued to yank and pull at the chain. Her frantic movements caused her to bump into the cup of water and tip it over.

She stopped for a moment, looking at the overturned cup and an idea popped into her head. Dipping her fingers into the water, she sat down and started to coat her ankle with water. She hoped to make it slippery enough to maybe slide her foot out instead of fighting with the chain. She wiggled and rotated her foot this way and that, trying anything to free herself. Persephone did not know how long she had been trying but her foot was becoming raw with her efforts. Her back ached, her head throbbed and her fingers began to bleed and swell. Yet she was determined not to give up. While she continued to maneuver her ankle and foot, the door flew open and her captor stood in the frame. Persephone froze and looked up at the tall, lean figure in the doorway.

“Samuel!”

“My, my…you haven’t been up for more than five minutes and already making such a racket.” The handsome young man in the doorway looked to be in his mid-twenties. He was tall and lean but underneath his plain black shirt she could see the traces of fine muscles. His hair was bleached with dark blonde roots peaking through. It was no longer spiked up in the popular fashion but messy on top of his head. He had cool grey eyes that twinkled with dark humor. He was wearing a pair of tattered jeans that hugged his hips in the right places as well as a pair of socks. His eyes fell over the messy room and he shook his head. “And you already made a mess of this fine room I provided you.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I am chained to the floor.” Persephone presented her leg to him in great rage when she noticed the whip. It hung at Samuel’s side like a limp snake, swaying this way and that as he rocked his hand. He followed her gaze and smiled at his little toy.

“I am aware of that, Arista.” Arista? It took Persephone a moment to realize he was referring to her. In her mortal body, she went by the name Arista Kiore, a 21-year-old woman who lived with her cousin, Michelle Woods, aka Daphne. He had no clue she was a goddess and at this moment she would love to inform him of that detail and the penalty for kidnapping a goddess. However, gods were not supposed to reveal their existence to mortal. Even if it was needed, like now, mortals would never believe it unless they saw it and Persephone had no experience calling power from her mortal body.

“Well that is not very accommodating now, isn’t it? May I ask why I am chained to the floor in what I am assuming is a room in your home.”

“You assumed correctly, Arista. Welcome to my humble abode. And you are more than welcome to ask,” he replied in a tone that was polite and friendly. His smile never faded but his eyes betrayed them as they went dark with raw, uncontained emotion. His voice was husky and mysterious when he spoke again. “And I am more than willing to tell you…I am completely infatuated with you, Arista. More than any woman I have known. I have fallen in love with you.”

“HA!” Persephone immediately threw her hands over her mouth after her cynical laugh escaped. That really was not a wise idea to laugh at someone who had her chained to the floor with a whip in his hand. Even if it was the most ridiculous, melodramatic confession she had ever heard. And Persephone had her share of these confessions of love. It was the reason she was in the mortal realm. She had enough of the gods professing their love only so they could fuck her. She had no interest in sex at the moment and no interest in them.

“Do not worry. I did not expect you to warm to me immediately.”

“Uh-huh. And the whip would before?”

“A bit eager, aren’t we?” Persephone jumped up at the comment and raised her hands in defiance. He slowly began to walk into the room, straight toward her with that whip.

“Whoa…wait a minute. I am not that type of girl, okay. So just let me go and find someone else to play your S&M games with.”

“I want no one else but you, Arista…for my ‘S&M games.’” He even added the quotes with his fingers, giving her good view of the whip in his hand. Persephone fidgeted anxiously and moved about to get away from him.

“You are nothing but a…”

“Psycho,” Samuel continued, rolling his hands as if to hurry up the conversation. “Maniac, freak, sicko, pervert…”

“I see you are very familiar with verbal insults. How many girls have you heard that from?”

“I lost count over the years,” His gaze fell to the dark stains on the floor and nodded to himself as if they brought back memories. The blood drained from Persephone’s face as he looked up at her with his swimming eyes. “Yet none of them will ever measure up to you, my lovely Arista. None ever had the beauty you possess.”

“As flattering as that is, I really have to say I am going to pass.” She was desperate to get away, hobbling around him as he followed her with slow and calculated steps.

“You do not have a choice, Arista. You are going to be mine.”

“For your fucking S&M fetish? Look, I told you I am not…” SNAP! Persephone jumped a mile in the air as the whip crashed down onto the concrete with a deafening crack.

“You are more than just a toy! You are so much more. I do not want you for just some quick fuck. I want you for a wife, for my lover. I want you, all of you. You…you…” He was gripping his hand tightly in such fury they turned red. Yet it did not seem like he was particularly mad at her.

“Okay. Okay,” Persephone soothed. “I am sorry. Calm down, alright? Just calm down, please.”

Samuel seemed to be listening, which was good. His tense muscles were relaxing and he was watching her intently with smoldering eyes. His arms went slack at his sides. Okay, Persephone thought to herself as she formulated a plan. Take it a step at a time. He is far from stable and clearly obsessed. With very cautious steps, she approached him, still telling him to calm down. She never took her eyes of his as she drew closer and she noticed he had flecks of blue in them. He was breathing very heavily and watching her with such passion a shiver went down her spine. Without batting a lash, Persephone took the hand that was holding the whip into her hand.

“Now, give me the whip. You do not want to hurt me, right? You love me, right?”

“Yes,” he breathed sharply. He seemed to be hypnotized by her. It gave Persephone a sense of power and electrified her entire body. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at her? Her fingers fell to the whip, trying to remove it from his grasp but the spell ended. With the reflexes of a cat, Samuel’s fingers caught her wrist in a painful grip and yanked her toward him. His other hand shot into her hair and snapped her head back before he slammed his head into hers and she collapsed, unconscious at his feet.