For me? Will you join me in death? (and other short stories and poems)

Turn Me To Stone (Short Story)

Turn Me to Stone

“Remember, you only have on chance,” he whispers, before releasing my arms from the bone grinding grip he had. I think of the bruises I will have tomorrow and realize that there will be no tomorrow. For me, tomorrow will be a day during the early thirteenth century B.C.

“Make sure you kill her,” are the last words I heard before a whirl of dust embraces me and I am forced to shut my eyes. My head feels light for a second, before I am hurled hard onto the ground.

I open my eyes and I am welcomed into a world of heat, pale sand and blue skies. I get up and look at the ink that was scripted on my hand. 7, it read. I have 7 hours to find her.

The piece of paper is folded into a tiny square and I pull it out of my pocket. It is creased and ripped around the edges, but I know that I will protect it with my life. What is written on the piece of paper is my life.

Aegae Perseus. Aegae Manor. I will find her there.

I stand up slowly, my sight still spinning. I have no idea where I am, or which direction I am walking towards, but I know that my lips are parched with thirst. The land is dry and cracked and my heart sinks at the thought of no water nearby.

Despite the thirst, I carry on walking. My legs shake with weakness, but I know that I must carry on. Otherwise I will fail and I will die.

Suddenly I feel a burn on my hand and I see the 7 turn into a 6, and I pick up my pace.

…Faster…

A burn. 5

..Faster..

Another burn. 4.

.Faster.

One more burn. 3.

Faster

I look at my hand and read the 2 with shiver of fear rushing down my spine.

As I walk, I notice a line of trees, which I cannot see past. Realizing that the tress are covering something, I approach them. Curiosity takes over my mind and I slip through them slowly. When I get through, I hear something that makes my heart pound fast. Water.

I follow the sound thirstily and find a small well. I run towards the water, using all my strength. Somehow I dip the bucket in a glug down handfuls of cool liquid.  

I cannot afford to take a break, but I take one anyway. As I sit down, my back leaning on the well, thoughts of the past few days enter my mind. The statue that was in the museum I worked in. The creepy eyes of the lost traveller. There was no story behind the statue, just the fact that it was found in Africa, with a shocked face.

Then he came alive. The stone had been covering the pallid blue tone of his face, the large onyx eyes and the blue lips. Scared to death. Turned to stone.

He gave me the power to visit the past. Ancient Greece.

To find her. Her who turned him to stone.

“Hey,” I hear. “You. What are you doing in my lands?”

I stand up to see the person who approached me and I am stunned to silence by her beauty. She is wearing a white gown which exposes her soft shoulders. Heart shaped lips, rosy cheeks and creamy skin. Her large, almost round eyes look fearful, yet fierce.

“I just needed some water,” I say, watching her reaction carefully.

“Who are you?” ash asks me. “Why are you in my home? Did the guards not stop you?”

The water brings consciousness back into my mind and my senses return. No one, except her can see me. I cannot see anyone but her.

I was close to freeing the traveller.

“Are you Medusa?” I ask her.

“How do you know my name?”

I look at my hand and realize that the 2 has become a 1. One hour to stop Medusa’s sins. To stop her from being cursed.

In exactly one hour, she will fall in love with Poseidon. She will break her promises and she will be cursed. She will turn into a Gorgon. She will turn the lost traveller to stone.

“You have to come with me,” I say but she takes a step back and frowns at me.

“Who are you, you strange girl. You wear strange clothes and speak differently. Tell me what you are doing here?”

“Please, trust me,” I beg. If she does not get out of this place she will see Poseidon and fall for him. I cannot let that happen.

“What do you want me to do?” she asks me.

“Get out of this place,” I say and her expression changes into something unreadable.

“Why?” she says. “I am not allowed to leave this manor. If I do, I will be in the harsh eyes of men.”

“Please trust me,” I repeat. I can see her hesitating, her brows frowning one minute, softening the next.

“No,” she says. “I shall abide the laws of being a priestess to Athena,”

I know that I am getting nowhere near to try and persuade her. She is strong minded and stubborn. I remember what the lost traveller told me.

“Do not try to persuade her. Kill her,”

At the time, I knew that I could not bring myself to kill an innocent maiden. As I clutch the knife that I had carefully planted in the morning, I have one thought running through my mind.

If I kill her, I will save thousands of lives including my own. If I don’t kill her, I will save only her life. The question is not whether I am selfish or not. It is whether I am cruel enough to kill an innocent woman who will become less innocent than anything in less than an hour.

And I am a cruel person.