𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇. meguru bachira

XIV

Even those high above the world do not welcome her. Eris is not the ruler of destruction but destruction itself. She walks the roads so desperately. She doesn't know what she's desperate for. She doesn't know if she'll see this beautiful sight again.

A bee looking for shelter from the cold so carelessly. The world around it frozen out. She's begun to like the bee despite how stupid it is. It shouldn't be out or near what is bad for it.

This isn't about the bee. It's about a boy she never truly got to say goodbye to. A boy who stood by her foolishly because of it. A boy who never seemed to understand that a world with Eris was not a world he could live in.

Just like a bee who hates the cold but likes winter jasmines. It stays in its hive as he watches from afar so desperate to grasp the beauty of what's afront.

So desperate to grasp the beauty of Eris Vasílissa. A girl who is slowly withering away in the damp cold. A girl who was made to withstand everything shivers even on the coldest of winters. "What did i do to you for you to hate me so much?" Her murmurs are eternally distant.

Eris no longer wants to question what she did, really. 'It is not that you have caused yourself to be hated; you are just hated. The heavens dislike you because you are destruction.' That is all. There is nothing special about the inequalities that she faces.

A girl who deserves much more than she's ever thought to receive. That's why she stands there silent as if contemplating her right to reside on this earth. The world that looks at her so hatefully, the world that she's so desperate to run away from, will never welcome her.

Because she was not a girl made to enjoy such joys. She was a girl made to endure such horrors. That's why she was slow bringing her hand to that door. It wasn't hesitation because she was scared. She was, probably.

However, Eris did not feel. No joy apparent in her life or bones: she just stood there numbed. Her body was physically resisting the vile things that would occur the second she walked into that house. She didn't want to. The door knob twisted as nervously as her stomach.

She didn't feel anything, but her body was so scarred from it. A nervous looking made stood at the door as it opened. "Ah, Miss Vasílissa, the master is waiting for you." The words on her tongue messy and terrified. The girl walks into the house as her breath stops working.

"Good luck." The maid quietly whispers as Eris disappears into a world she knows is far too harsh for her to endure. Still, she looks at the man in front of her. "Ah, my angel, hello." His words are twisted. They tie knots out of man made strings in her stomach.

The girl does not answer. "How disrespectful..." He trails off as if he's being merciful by not speaking. "I even doubted you, you know? I sent you there to make me money not spread your legs for every man that you come across."

Her thoughts don't race. The vile things that leave his mouth no longer shock her. "Vasílissa, my darling angel, you'll keep playing God for me, won't you?" He chuckles as his rough hands caress her face. The touch is familiar but uncomfortable. She doesn't respond.

Rough hands that yank her violently in response to her silence. "Don't be a bitch, sluts like you only know how to run their mouths. Speak." His command seems to fall on deaf ears as her soft lips do not part. She doesn't want to.

She feels no need to waste even a unit of energy on this man. His hand grips her hair tightly as she's thrown across the room. Blood drips down from her head beautifully. A sight painfully pretty. "You're much better that way, really." The man murmurs in disgust towards the shell of a girl.

A glass of red wine gripped in his hands. She can smell it so strongly as he brinks is closer to her face. "Drink, we're celebrating tonight, you know?" Celebrate. Tonight, we're celebrating the death of a girl who never lived. Tonight, we celebrate the death of a girl who still breathes.

The wine is bitter. It's too strong, though she's not sure if it's due to the mix of blood in her mouth. The man watches her drink as if he's looking at a friend. But it's darker than that: there's an inexplicable look in his eyes that churns the girl's stomach.

Her mouth opens to speak, but his hand stops her. "You're much prettier when quiet. Angels don't speak too much. You can play God, Eris, but you still have to stay silent in the face of your Lord." The man is not God. The man is cruel and vile — everything that God is proclaimed not to be.

"I created you." He didn't make her; he ruined her. He ruined all of her. "Yes, but you are not God. You may be furthest from him than I am, and I am one who has been abandoned by the Gods."

To the man, she knows none of abandonment. "You speak as if you know true struggle." She does. She knows only struggle that he has caused her to face. "The only struggle you have is closing those fucking legs of yours." His gaze draws to her thighs before looking back at her. Lust.

Lust towards one who should be considered a child in his eyes. The child he is meant to have guarded. It's sickening, but she doesn't speak. She feels as if she can't. There's no need for useless words to leave her mouth at the rate the blood is leaving her body. "You are not God."

No argument, no facts, just a pure statement. The man is not God to her. To her, there is no God. She can laugh at the thought of all the Gods betraying her, but a God who was to love all? It dehumanises her. However, there has not been one other than the bee who did humanise her.

His back is faces her. "My angel, did you know that wrongdoings are punished? I, too, am tired of your blasphemy. I truly wished for us to celebrate, but it seems I must throw you out." The man walks away as the blood still stains her entire body. She is drowning in it.

Boneless legs lead her out the door. There is no relief in her breath as she collapses unto a snow far away from the hell she has been granted release from. Her body lay rest in the white dyed red. It's beautiful.

"Keres, I pray that you, too, have not forsaken me."

—☆—
Chapter end

The Keres are the ancient Greek death spirits.

Eat well sleep well and hydrate
I love you so much youre so pretty.