Page 74 of Hades

My first thought is that I must be hallucinating… again.

No one besides Azazel has come to my cell, and that was only to gloat and give me false hope that I would be released soon. But that was decades ago, or maybe yesterday. I don’t fucking know anymore.

Instead, I make a feeble attempt to blow my matted strands of hair out of my face to see. It’s a useless attempt. So instead, I shake my head and try to get my brain to stop playing tricks on me.

“Do you take requests?” she asks, this time closer.

Peering out of one eye, I search the darkness and see the tip of a red stiletto heel. Maybe this hallucination won’t be so bad after all. I make one last attempt to shift my hair away from my face, but the strands have become so filthy and matted that the effort is futile.

I feel her gentle fingers push the oily strands from my face and tuck them behind my ears without a word. “There, now I can look at your… handsome face,” she chokes out.

Now I know she’s lying. The centuries here have not been kind to me, so I very well doubt that handsome would be a word anyone would use to describe me at this point. Even at my best, when I fought side by side with my brother, I was not deemed conventionally handsome. I’m scarred and battle-worn, and I wouldn’t trade any of them for a pretty-boy face.

The only reason to butter me up by calling me handsome would be because she has something to gain. But I have nothing to give, so this should be a short conversation.

With my matted hair out of my face, I can finally get a decent look at the woman standing before me. She’s tall, blonde, and lost, because no one who looks like her would be randomly wandering around Treachery.

Squinting my eyes, I try to place her. She looks vaguely familiar, though I haven’t seen a female in centuries. She’s stunning, and even in my semi-lucid state, I would most definitely have remembered her.

“Do I know you?” I ask, still racking my brain for a connection.

“Oh, Reaver, what have they done to you?” she replies, and her voice is almost sad as she caresses my dirty cheek with her hand. As she pulls her hand away, I notice that she wipes it against her thigh and cringes. I can’t say I blame her. Dirt isn’t the only thing caking my body.

“I’ll ask again. Who the hell are you? Or are you part of the new succubus release program here to give me a happy ending massage? If that’s the case, I’ll apologize for being a minute man. Probably less… it’s been a long time.”

I watch as an air of disgust washes over her face. I can’t say as I can blame he.; I am pretty repulsive. The lack of a shower has taken its toll. I’m shocked that the stench alone isn’t causing her to vomit.

“Repulsion doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling,” she snaps, and I have the feeling of knowing her. Age-old glimpses of a time long gone start to flash in my memory. Gabriel and Alastor and… what the fuck was her name? As quick as the flash of memory comes, it’s gone.

All I can do is watch as she paces back and forth in front of me. Occasionally, she glances back over her shoulder to glare at me. I watch her ass pass back and forth. I’m still a man, after all. She’s mumbling to herself in a language I can’t remember. Whatever it is, she’s not happy.

Finally, she stops, again standing directly in front of me. “You’re repulsive. You know that, right?”

“I thought you said I was handsome,” I retort, my dry throat causing my voice to crack.

“I was being nice,” she sneers. “Calling you repulsive is also me being nice. I don’t think there’s a description icky enough to adequately describe your current state of being,” she adds while wrinkling her nose.

“Ouch, that’s harsh. After all, I have been chained to a fucking wall forever!” I yell, watching droplets of spit fan forward in her direction. “And it’s the maid’s century off, so excuse the mess.”

I watch as she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Don’t you want to hear how I plan to get you out of this miserable existence, or do you want to continue to watch my ass?”

Maybe she’s the delusional one, not me. “Honey, don’t you think if there were a way for me to get the fuck out of here, I would have figured it out by now. So unless you get on your fucking knees and suck me off, you can leave.” I do my best to move in the direction of the door with my chained hand –a poor effort at best.

She lets out an audible sigh. “I only have two words for you…fighting pits.”

I had heard rumors about the fighting pits where you would be granted freedom if you won. But no one ever won or came back, for that matter. But the draw was presumably not being here any longer. At some point, the prospect of a permanent death becomes appealing. I can’t say that I am not at that point.

“Rumors,” I mumble. “Besides, I don’t know if I’m just yet at the point of a death wish.”

She lets out a loud cackle of a laugh. “Do you think I would be here, in this literal hell hole, if my offer wasn’t one-hundred-percent legitimate? I’ll let you think about that for a minute,” she whispers.

“Fine. What would I have to do, and how? Because, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

“You always were the funnier of the two of you. I don’t think Asher has a sense of humor, at least not one that anyone is aware of,” she quips as if I have any idea to whom she’s referring.

“Who?” I ask because the name Asher isn’t ringing any bells.

“Your brother. He goes by Asher now. Once he fell, he changed it,” she spouts very matter-of-factly, giving me a dismissive wave of her hand.

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