The Sixth Life of Medusa

32. Beyond The Door

It was similar to what Medusa felt when she waded through the gates of Tartarus; the only difference was the thicker darkness and the sensation of being dragged down by hands clutching her ankles.

When her feet settled on a solid surface, the thickness in the air vanished and the hands slinked away. She ran her hands over her face and arms, grounding herself with the knowledge that her limbs were intact and she felt no pain. Still fine. Not dead yet.

Crack.

She braced herself in readiness for an attack. There was a distant sound of clunks and clatters, like stones tumbling off a rocky surface.

"At last," said a voice that sounded exactly like hers.

Danger blared in Medusa's head. If only she could see.

A chuckle. "You think it would be better if you could see?"

Instead of answering, Medusa stood straighter and noticed for the first time that she couldn't feel aether at all—just air, and there was the sinking feeling that she may be unable to manipulate even that in this plane.

"You know?" The voice turned sweet. "I'm not your enemy."

Since Medusa had never heard of a speaking beast, there was the possibility that her curse wasn't a beast like Ares assumed. Still, it would be foolish to let her guard down. Whatever lurked in the darkness could see her and probably knew her thoughts. A tough, if not impossible opponent.

"Don't be so guarded." The voice sounded utterly relaxed, even friendly. "I am you and you are me. Please, let your guard down."

Medusa's heart sank when her suspicion was confirmed. This entity could indeed read her mind. "Perhaps... perhaps showing yourself may help me let my guard down."

Instead of complying, the being chuckled again. "I did not expect it to feel this good."

There was a scraping sound like a large body dragging over a rough surface. Medusa gulped and tensed up.

"Remember when he died?"

"Who died?" Medusa could swear there was a presence to her left.

"Wise, kind Antonii. Our husband." The words were whispered into her left ear.

Hand flying to the spot, she whirled around. Widening her eyes, she strained her sight, desperate for the barest glimpse of light.

"Remember how you lost it when he died?" The voice pressed on, and to Medusa's surprise, there was sadness in her voice.

"I... I don't remember." Her expression slackened when she realised she recalled nothing after Antonii died. She had assumed she died immediately, but it made little sense. The first time she experienced decapitation, her consciousness remained for a full day before death finally came.

"Of course, you do not remember."

There was the sudden sensation of something enormous looming over her. A harsh shiver racked her body. She looked up into the darkness, feeling completely exposed.

Light laughter. "You place too much faith in that memory of yours. How about thinking again about the night they made us a widow?"

"Us?" Medusa bristled. "There is no us. What are you?"

"But I told you I am you. Though our connection was severed in our first life, I was still present... seeing everything. Mum from our second life was the worst. Calling us ugly cat. Pfft. Did she ever look at her reflection? I was her spitting image. The nerve of that shrew, speaking of ugly things when her insides were rotten. Those superstitious savages. To do that to me..."