A Series of One-Shots

Death and Revenge ~Sumerian Mythology~

Sumerian Mythology

*Based of Sumerian myths* Gilgamesh was a super-human King who was two thirds god and one third human. He wished for a best friend, so the gods gave him one. But when he killed the Great Bull of Heaven, the gods killed his best friend, Enkidu. When his friend died, he went on an adventure to find his father who was a god and to find the secret to immortal life. He did find his father, but he was unsuccessful in his search for immortality.

            Upon returning to Uruk, the saddened and still mortal king decided to take Siduri’s advice. He intended to find a wife.

            The day after his arrival, he sent out many servants to spread the word; all maidens over 15 years of age were to be outside the King’s home at high noon the following day. Many maidens were enthralled with the idea of marrying the handsome king, so the traveled from far to get their chance to become the queen.

            The crowd of girls brought a sad smile to Gilgamesh’s face. Endiku, his best of friends, had used to joke about never marrying and venturing forever. He would commonly speak of going places far away, traveling this world and the next, but with his friend no longer by his side, this wasn’t possible.

            The air shimmered behind him and the image of a woman appeared. This woman was beautiful and exotic in the strangest of ways. She had pale blue skin, black eyes with absolutely no white, and was covered from head to toe in assorted pieces of gold jewelry and dress. Gilgamesh whirled in his spot at the window to face the woman.

            “Dearest King, it is not right to be thinking of the dead at a time like this. It is a bad omen for your upcoming marriage.” Her voice was like soft silk.

            “Who are you?”  Gilgamesh asked.

            She smiled; it was a cold gesture. “I am Ereshkigal. I am goddess of all those who are dead and those who are destined to die.”

            Gilgamesh did not fail to notice her beauty. Her hair fell nearly to the floor in cascades of black ringlets and her dusky blue lips were plump. “Why are you here goddess?”

            “I am here to offer you a rare opportunity, my dear King of men.” She paused in her thoughts, a sinister grin gracing her lips. “You are here on the day of choosing your future wife, thinking of a man no longer among the living. What if I, Queen of the Dead, were to give you the chance to get you dearest friend back?”

            “Why would you do this?”

            Her shoulders shrugged lightly. “I feel sorry for you. I too lost the one I love most and I would to anything to get him back.”

            “If you’re the Queen of the Dead, why don’t you simply resurrect him?”

            “He was immortal, he cannot be resurrected.” She cleared her throat and swiftly changed the subject back to the matter at hand. “Do you want the wild man back, Gilgamesh? Would you do anything to take him back?”

            “Yes, goddess; I would do anything in this world and the next to save him.”

            “Good. All you have to do, dear one, is go into my realm and pocket his soul. If you make it back, he will regenerate and be in your home the next sun down. If you fail, you must stay in my realm.”

            “Very well then, where can I enter your realm?”

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            Gilgamesh made quick to travel to the gate to the realm of the dead. He knew he was in the right place from the strip of white cloth hanging from the bars. Ereshkigal had instructed specifically that he was to take the cloth with him into the underworld so that he would not be bothered by the dead. He tied it around his wrist and opened the gate, beginning his descent into the endless darkness.

            He walked at a steady pace for what seemed like days. The darkness seemed never ending, until eventually he saw a light. He walked straight toward that light, having faith that this would be the change in realms. And it was. The world spun around him when he stepped beyond the boundary of the light and he landed on the ground on his hands and knees.

            A scream pierced the air, a howl broke the night, and a laugh bubbled up from space all at the same time. They hurt his head. Gilgamesh covered his ears and curled in on himself on the ground. It never seemed to stop. As time passed, he knew he was running out of time, so, with this ears still covered, he took in his surroundings. He was lying in a field of dead grass, one that looked like a wheat farm after the reapers harvested. Gilgamesh noticed some moss a few steps away from him. He risked moving his hands from his ears to reach out for it. He then used it to plug his ears so he would have free use of his hands.

            Without examining the land any further, he set off. He ran, the bare feet getting cut by the rough ground. He didn’t have to run far before he found the source of the screams and howls.

            There was a large pit in the ground. In this pit were various men and woman, all as naked as the day of their birth. Also in the pit was a pack of wolves. Gilgamesh watched in fascination as one of the wolves flew through the air and raked its claws out at one of the woman. She cried out and the other wolves began to join. They tore her apart, limb from limb.

            Then the broken king saw him—Enkidu. Gilgamesh almost cried out in relief. He opened his mouth and as loudly as he could, he called for his friend. “Enkidu! Enkidu!” Alas, the wild man did not hear his cried. The woman reappeared in the pit. Gilgamesh quieted down, watching the attack begin again, accept this time, the wolves had turned on his friend. They had turned to Enkidu.

            “No!” the king bellowed, preparing to jump into the pit to save him, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

            It was Ereshkigal. “You will not stop them. You are powerless against them. You will sit here and watch, just as I did when my beloved was murdered.”

            “No, I must save him!”

            Ereshkigal did not reply. She simply held him in place as Enkidu was torn apart by the wolves. When it finally ended, tears were running down his face. “Why?”

            “You killed my husband, the Bull of Heaven. It is your turn to suffer.” With nothing else to say, she pulled a long hook from behind her back and impaled Gilgamesh with it. She then hung him behind her throne with her sister’s corpse, so that he was stuck forever in a state between dead and alive, forced to watch as the one he loved was killed repeatedly. Forever.