Friday, 12 April 2019

Eros 3

Sandra stared into his eyes, trying to deduce how many colours existed, despite not needing any excuse to look. He was perfection. Physically at least. She knew that he was charming, knew the right words to say, at all the right times, but that wasn't enough. She wanted more and right now, was the first chance she’d had to find what she needed.

She wouldn't freely admit it but, from the very first second he’d smiled, she’d been attracted. If she were being brutally honest with herself, or a few others, she’d rip the damn shirt off his back and do what came naturally. She, of course, wouldn't do that. That wasn't her, despite some of her friends seeing the world differently. They would say, ‘If a man can do it then you can!’ She’d like that. A lot. So very, very much, especially when his lips seemed to be talking to her thoughts in such a wondrous manner.

His laugh, the way he spoke, were all music to her ears. She could easily get swept away with such things. The moments. She was flirting, she knew it, playing with her glorious hair. She’d realised that he had a thing for a woman’s hair, when he’d literally stopped in the middle of serving, due to removing her hair band. The way he’d looked at her spoke to her body as well as mind.

Eros, sitting across the table from Sandra, the dark calm outside, spoke with his usually seductively charming voice. His vocal tone lowered, just a little, the words slowing down to empathise meaning, as his eyes and thoughts spiralled closer to losing control. His love for all, his affection for many, was truly focused on the woman in front of him. The world could fall around him, and his gaze would never leave her side. His thoughts were less than pure, his imagination roaring out of control, simply wishing to love every single inch of her perfectly formed frame.

“I created a Facebook page, last week, as it’s apparently the social thing to do!”

“Oh, have you now,” Sandra replied, wondering why he didn't already have one, casting aside the fact that he was apparently the God of love. Or something like that, “Let me have a look?”
Eros reached into his pocket, finding his phone. He swiped, pressed the screen a few times, prodded the side, then handed Sandra the phone. This was all new to him, a crazy notion that so many people could be connected with love, aspirations to improve and to spread positivity. To him this was a wondrous platform of beauty.

Sandra opened Facebook, with Eros’ perfect pictures appearing in front of her eyes, each one amazingly framed and telling a story all on their own. She’d never seen such a perfect profile in her life. She navigated to his friends list, which seemed to consist of six hundred and seventy-four females, mostly half dressed, Jackson near the top, and two hundred and twelve men. Also mostly dressed. She smiled. Beauty did what beauty did.

She clicked on his messages, with two hundred unread, her mouth opening as the nude pictures appeared. One after another, again and again, her amazement growing as she moved through the screens. She thought her friends received filth, but a beautiful man, was truly on a new level. She handed the phone back to Eros and, closing her mouth, just smiled.

“I'm amazed at how free mortals are when sharing views of their body. Truly you have all mastered the art of flesh!”

“I think… you might be seeing things a little differently than they are, Eros!”
Sandra shook her head, tutting to herself, as the door opened behind her, “We’re closed!” she said, as she turned. The figure, dressed in gold robes, slammed the door shut,
“Brother, I have come for you!”

Eros stood, his thoughts destroyed as he knew what was about to take place, “Alastor, Brother, please, not here!” Alastor smirked, laughing with a condescending tone, as he raised his hands. As he moved his palms outwards all of the chairs and tables moved to the sides of the room.  Alastor, being the God of family feuds, would only be here for one reason… to destroy Eros.

“Brother Eros. I am sick and tired of you and your feelings. You have caused no end of problems for your family and it will stop!” Eros moved to stand in front of Sandra, moving slowly back towards the wall. He turned to her, nodded, then spoke softly,

“No matter what happens, do not intervene!” Sandra nodded, confused, especially after witnessing everything move the way it did.

Eros stepped forward, as Alastor, reaching behind him, brought forward his haladie double bladed dagger. Eros knew that it was likely a cursed blade, made from the earth’s finest metals. Deadly to all and most certainly meant to cause him harm. He wasn't mortal, his skin far tougher, but there would always be ways to hurt any of the Gods. He reached out, his earnest face pleading the obvious message, as Alastor stabbed with the blade. Eros jumped back, slightly, surprised that this was happening. They’d known each other for the longest time, been Brothers, laughed, drank the wine from the lake, and more.

“Brother, please, listen to me… you do not have to do this?”

“Oh but Brother, I do. We all do!”

All at once, Alastor moved forward, stabbing, thrusting, wishing to catch any part of Eros. Dodging, remembering the months of training, Eros moved with ease, the grace instilled within finally being of use. He loved to train, as with anything he loved, he admired the fluidity of combat. This, on the other hand, was not a game. The blade scored a glancing strike to his side. Alastor, for a second, stopped, as Eros placed his hand onto the cut. The blood, the blood of a god, spilled slowly to the floor and over his hands.

Eros couldn't believe this. He didn't wish to have his heart broken by his own Brother. The betrayal, the belief that they would all stand together, finally destroyed within a few moments. His face betrayed his anguish and he stopped. He just stopped. He wished to accept his fate. This was his end and he welcomed all of it. Love meant nothing if even the Gods would not stand together.

Alastor, moving the blade around his fingers with the greatest of skill, knew what was happening. He admired Eros, even loved him, but that love simply could not hide his jealous nature. His hatred, for one that blindly believed that the mortals were anything other than mindless animals, could not be ignored. Their desires, their needs, being all but children within the wonders of nature. He didn't care if he himself, succumbed to such a nature, as they were gods. Above the mortals.

“After you die, I will have words with your Maiden!” said Alastor. Eros, eyes closed as the words hit his ears, lowered his head and opened his eyes. Enlivened, the anger building within him and his thoughts no longer his own. He stepped forward. The anger within him, held at bay by his decreasing love for this thing in front of him, bubbled to the surface.

“You can take my body, Brother. You can end my very life and soul. But you will not, you will never, touch a hair upon the people I love!”

Alastor moved his hand with speed as the knife thrusted towards Eros’ neck. Eros moved, ever so slightly, noticing the knife miss his neck by barely a few millimetres. The room seemed to slow to a crawl as Alastor moved to his side, bringing the knife across towards Eros’ neck. Eros ducked and moved his upper body to the side, quickly bringing his fist forward to strike just below Alastor’s throat. The punch shook him, as he stepped backwards a few paces.

“You see, Brother, love is a moment away from rage. From anger. From absolute madness!”
A second escaped as Eros grabbed Alastor’s wrist, peeling back two fingers with his other hand to break them. The knife dropped as Eros thrust his knee into Alastor’s neck. Alastor dropped to his knees, concussed, eyes flailing wildly, as Eros placed his fingers into Alastor’s mouth. Eros turned Alastor, placing a knee to the back of his neck, as he ripped his upper head from his body. The blood spread across the room, covering the walls, tables and chairs.

Sandra screamed, in absolute shock at such an event, as her eyes stayed open. Alastor’s body fell to the floor and, as she felt her own body start to shake, watched as the lifeless vessel crumbled to dust and vanished.

Eros turned, walked towards where Sandra stood, reached the back of the room, as his back slid down the wall. His hand held the cut, the wound slowly healing. Sandra knelt beside him, not knowing what to say or do. He looked in pain, a smile no longer across his face, which seemed odd as he always smiled. She placed a hand onto his leg, as he opened his eyes, the events pouring from his pain filled look. He held her hand in his, letting go of his side, to pull her across him. Straddling his lap, he held her, shaking, the moment overcoming his mind and heart. He’d just killed his Brother. Violently. Ruthlessly. There would never be a return from something like this.

He looked at her, her hair strewn across her beautiful face, her fear subsiding as her thoughts turned to him. This was why he loved them, all of them, all of the mortals. They formed connections. Fleeting, trivial, but connections, nonetheless. He wanted to love all of them but, right now, one above all others. His crime repeated, once again he found himself here, a place that he wanted to be.

She brushed aside his hair, as he did the same with hers. She just looked at him. A part of her knew that he wasn't for her, wouldn't be kept by her side, but the pain would all be worth it. She moved forward and pressed her lips to his. Both bodies shaking, both filled with fear, overcome with the very moment of defences removed. His lips were warm, eager, as she placed a hand upon his chest to feel his raging heart beating. His hands held the side of her face, as they kissed. The heat from his body flowed over her, as he held her closer. He moved her back, ever so slightly, placing his hands upon her shirt, before ripping it open. He kissed her again, his blood-soaked hand moving her bra away to feel her.

His thoughts, filled with sadness, rage, confusion, passion and longing, fell away to the moment. He knew that moments, such as this, seldom appeared within the world of sedated lust. He couldn't and wouldn't stop this even if he thought he had a choice. There was no escape and he welcomed this prison of his own making.

Her legs wrapped around him, being careful of his bleeding cut, as his hands found her skin. He wanted to, despite the ache from his side, stay like this forever. He’d spent most of his lifetime loving the mortals, feeling their anguish and pain, wishing that he could love them all. This, to him, was the purity of two people becoming more than one. He knew that he was afraid, wished to escape such moments, but this was beautiful.

Sandra felt his lips, shaking as they caressed her neck, enticing a reaction that she was more than willing to provide. She felt her own fear, rising within, wondering what would happen after today, after this night. She’d stop, she’d ask questions, but the way he held her kept her silent, other than her bodies desire to show appreciation for his fingers. He was amazingly strong, as she’d just seen, but with a gentility that defied understanding. Others usually grabbed, fumbled, while his grace simply made her body want to dance for him. She felt his hands move along her legs, closer to where she desperately wanted him to be.

Eros had known the softest skin, the most perfect forms within his world, but this woman in front of him defied that logic as his heart begged him to continue. Each time he touched her, she responded with such vigour that he feared for his sanity. She was alive, passionate, longing for more. He knew the possibility of falling for a mortal would never be accepted but he, after all, knew the hefty price of love. It was his entire world. His every want. All his needs sitting upon him right in front of his eyes. 

He smiled, knowing, realising, that the night ahead would be a long and worthy night.


Across the street from the restaurant, Tiacapan stood, watching the both of them. The jealously rose within her, the anger, the viper tainting her nature of sexual hunger. She knew that it was her doing, all of this, the reason why all of them were cast down to this infernal place. She’d danced with Eros, broke him, used him, then cast him aside. It didn't matter to her as Eros was hers. Now, forever, until the very end of time. Even if she didn't want him, even if she destroyed him, no-one else would have what she’d taken.

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