Guard and Scythe

The Choice's Burdens

Dedicated to @Josiefeathergirl for inviting me up to her family's cabin for the weekend! We're badmitton champs no! ;)

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The Minotaur huffed, steam blowing out is his big wet nose as he stared down at me, his small beady black eyes tight with suspicion. I stared back at him, challenging him to deny my request to enter the maze inside the seventh circle of Hell. The Minotaur was three times my size, and weilded two mighty axes. He wore a ragged loin cloth around his waist, but his muscles were bare on his broad chest. He was the keeper to the gates of the seventh circle, and had the final say on who could be permitted to enter. The souls locked up inside the maze all trembled in fear upon hearing his loud ear splitting roar shake the ground, and ran in terror as far away as they could from the swift sharp blades of his axes.

"I don't believe you heard me quite clearly," I said impatiently holding my gaze with the beast. "I request permission to enter your maze."

The Minotaur looked down at me for a moment silently. I was about to give up when he suddenly huffed, nodding to indicate me to continue on forward. I nodded back towards the bull man in appreciation before entering.

It has been a very long time since I've been through these parts. I still remember how to navigate the maze thankfully, and soon was heading in the direction I wanted.

As I slink down and through the labyrinth, I catch glimpses out of the corner of my eye of souls whom upon feeling my presence, scamper away in fear, like mice, whimpering and chittering like the rodents. I ignore them all, focussing on my task at present here.

I sniff the air, attempting to catch on to the scent. The rusty smell of blood and salt mixes together with musky dirt, and sweat, and ancient molding stone.  I pick through it all until I have found what I am searching for, and immediatly run forward towards the scent.

My kind do not simply run. When we run, we're practically flying. our feet hardly ever even touch the earth, because our bounding stides are so incredibly powerful and long. Everytime my foot pushes off the ground again, and electric pulse of strength courses through my body, my breathing always strong and steady. I push myself faster, and tear through the maze, leaving a trail of distressed souls cowering into themselves behind me.

At last I come to an abrupt halt at the entrence to a small room. It was like a rock garden, with giagantic boulders and stones decoratively placed all around the room. As I step over the threshold, the gravel underneath my feet crunches softly. all around the dark gloomy room, water drips from the walls and ceiling, loudly splattering onto the stones, making them glisten from the wetness.

On top of one of the larger boulders towards the center of the room, a figure sits with his back turned away from me. Quietly, I glide over to him until I am standing just behind.

"Do you remember me Jonathan?"

The boy turns to look at me; his eyes widen in fear and he begins to whimper shaking his head. I sigh. They always forget, always.

"Wha-what do you want-t-t from me d-demon?" he stutters, his eyes still wide with wild fear. Looking into them I can practically see into his head and how unhinged he is now. I though he could've been different. The spirits always forget about everything once they are brought to their circle. Everything besides their crimes and torturings.

"Remember me Jonathan? Remember when we talked together? It wasn't such a long time ago now," I prod him again, practrically willing him to remember me.

Just when I've about given up, a small spark ignites in the back of his eyes.

"T-Trisnae?"

I nod at him encoragingly. Jonathan takes a few long staggered breaths before he can talk again.