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art by Albert Mielgo (Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse) | http://www.albertomielgo.com/
"Tell me, how is it like to be a living destruction?" I unconsciously asked Chaos as I drank a shot of Martini while the dim light in the bar touch my face. "How does it feel like being able to ruin something? Does it feel good to see their hopeless souls begging for mercy, or does it feel good to see the ruins they've become? Tell me, how does it feel like to see the faces of innocent beings become another wreckage that suffers from your wrath? And how does it feel like knowing you're okay and others are in pain? How does it feel like, Chaos?"
It was another cold Saturday night, and I was getting myself drunk at one of the night bars in New York City. It was the winter solstice, and the freezing cold snow started to pay this city a visit. Dressed in a black tank top covered with a beige winter jacket, and black denim pants paired up with a high-cut Converse, I looked nothing like a goddess. Unlike the past days, this time, I was just a regular mortal having a drink. A regular mortal trying to forget her desperate life by getting herself wasted. That was me. Not a single trace of immortality appeared on my human form. And no trace of golden ichor could be seen on me. And to be honest, I somewhat like this better than wearing a black night gown made from the misery and tears of my enemies. It was quite much of a stress and responsibility knowing that you were always expected to make the lives of these poor beings plain miserable. And at times like this, all I need is a bottle of Martini, upbeat music, and a few hopeless beings to watch by. Besides, it feels good to party once in a while and enjoy the small things that you don't normally get to enjoy as an immortal goddess. And it was simply a worthwhile experience.
I sat comfortably at my favorite spot in this place. It's been months since I started changing forms to be able to get into night clubs and bars around the state. After deciding to get out of the pits of Tartarus and escape from Zeus' immature punishment, I wondered in different places in the mortal world and turned puny mortals from bones and ashes into whispering souls in the Underworld to annoy Hades. If not, I would go break Apollo's most favorite musical instrument, tell Aphrodite she looks miserable or slaughter Hera's sacred cows. But I found those boring afterwards that I started looking for something worth my time. That was how I discovered what mortals call barhopping, to which I ended up being a regular in different bars than spending time in my sacred places. It became my new hobby to watch mortals vent out their miseries through drinking, getting themselves wasted, slowly killing their delicate bodies. I feed myself through their sadness, and I make them reminisce every single time they failed in life. And while I sit on my favorite spot in front of the bartender, I can feel the hidden agony behind the faces of every single one in here. Until I suddenly felt empty, and I knew something was different.
He was here.
Unlike what mortals have thought of him, he didn't look like anything chaotic. He doesn't even look anything near to a dark chasm. He was wearing a white shirt topped with a black leather jacket. He also wore a pair of ragged dark blue jeans and a worn out brown combat boots, which made him look like a regular mortal who only went out for a drink. The small scar across his right eyebrow was covered by his messy black hair. He smelled like a mix of alcohol, gun powder and burning buildings, the usual smell of chaos. His stormy gray eyes glowed under the bar's light as he played with his drink. He looked good, and nothing like what mortals think about him. Who would have thought that Chaos can look this perfect?
