Monster Stories (Melancholic Euphoria's Tumblr Stories)

Medusa x Blind! Reader

Relationship: F! Monster x F! Reader

- "You only have to look at the Medusa straight on to see her. And she's not deadly. She's beautiful and she's laughing." -

Warnings: mentions of death in the beginning, trauma, slight mental ab*se. In first-person so forgive me if I slip into a different form.

The Laugh of Medusa

By morning, my sister was dead, and I was a living, tired, girl.

That was what my mother had told me: awakening me in the early hours of the morning, a solemn croak to her voice, her words bounced along the walls of my room when she told me the news.

Circe was feeble and a meek girl, but she had been the kindest to me, treating me as her lifeline, through thick and thin. But her health was declining and she found herself confined to her bed, many healers surrounding her.

When she had finally succumbed to weakness in her body, father was still by her side, muttering to her that awaiting her would be Hermes, guiding her gentley to the ferry waiting to let her cross the Acheron. 

'She had gone gracefully', he told me when he addressed me, soothing my hair. 'She was as beautiful as when she had been born.'

I had cried little when the time had come, for my years of tears had melted away, leaving me hollow and worn. I wished I could've cried, wept into her hair and cradled her one last time, but mother had made sure I was far away from her until it was time for burial.

She would be cremated, laid across a pyre, obols shrouding her kindly eyes. I had kissed her brow one final time with a guide from my father, my hand soothing her hair with shaking fingers. We will meet again, sister. I told myself. And I shall be blessed with sight to witness your smile.

The smell of ash was burning my eyes, the sounds of the wailing of my parents brought me to look away in shame. For the first time in days, tears finally fell, and I had not been able to wipe them away.

When the smoke dissipated, a harsh hand had grabbed my forearm, shaken with a force that the suddenness rattled my senses. My mother, breathing down my neck, the foulness in her tone as she spoke to me.

"It should've had been you on that pyre. By the Gods, I am truly cursed now."

That same night when I had said my goodbyes, I prayed to the Gods, to Athena for her advice, for her guidance to help me stay on the right path. My tears still stung my cheeks, the burning smell of ash and burning flesh was present and scalding within my mind, imagining how it would've been to witness it.

Mother hadn't spoken to me since that morning, but father had been there to console her instead of me. He had been there sometimes to soothe me and quieten my sobs at night, to hide them from her. But now, he had to side with my rational mother, and not me.

They grieved, and yet, it felt as if I had been petrified to stone too, lost to an eternity of darkness.

That late-night, when I could hear the shoreline not far from my home, I fled by horse, fleeing and only hoping I could go as far as possible. Cisthene was once a home for me and Circe, but now, it held the strong, fiery memories of torment, death and anguish.

I would never remember the laughter of my sister, of her loving hands leading me, now, my hands burnt around the reigns, pushing me away until my heart soothed.

We stopped after some time when I could feel the sun beating down on my skin, from the coolness of the night, the rays of Helios were bright and roaring, having to bring me to find the shade of something.