A God's Mercy (Apollo x OC)

Chapter 21

It was only a mirage of serenity, the pure blackness all around her. Curtains of black sludge, wrapping around her like a cocoon. Her limbs invisible, listless and heavy as titanium. Her eyes, sheathed in heavy gloss. The air was so thick and stale and muggy that for a terrifying moment, she believed she was still beneath the man that was meant to protect her. And then, she became more frightened, not because the more specific details in her later memories—they were slow in coming—but the idea of not knowing whether or not she was asleep. How long she had been lying there, she had no idea. Considering the many night terrors Melantriche had endured these last few days, it should have been none the more disconcerting to her, but this was much different. The darkness was everywhere, so solid her eyes burned just gazing straight into nothing, the silence deafening. Shutting her eyes, Melantriche struggled, gasping for breaths in the distended happening. She might be buried alive, or drowning, or...

Strenuous even to twitch a finger, her head cutting through the thickness languidly to and fro. Nothing, nothing for miles. The panic seeped deeply into her. A scream ripped through Melantriche's throat, into the nothingness, but it made absolutely no sound. Silence, silence, silence, forever with no horizon. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Can't breathe.

Can't move.

Can't think.

Can't cry.

Minutes, days, years later.

Suddenly the hysterical urge to laugh assaulted her. Of course! She had to think way back, back before the rape and the pungent taste of beeswax, the details. No one could run away from god, and all that time, in the back of her mind the thoughts came spontaneously, slowly but surely filling Melantriche with deep terror. Sisyphus, the burning hill, the boulder. Tantalus and the pool, the ever sparkling water and the delectable fruits that hung above his lips that he might only just smell their ripeness. The Danaides, caked head to toe in mud and the gummy redness of their husbands for all of eternity festering in disease and guilt. Melantriche herself had pictured her own face, her eyeballs melting like candle wax, dripping down her face ever slowly, marring the beauty that supposedly surpassed Artemis. Or in a nightmare in which she was strapped to a table, stark naked as a babe, surrounded by filthy, faceless men. These thoughts made her feel so very sick with dread, but now somehow, those fanatic musings seemed to pale in comparison to this punishment. And for Melantriche, the fates had picked the worst punishment imaginable: waiting, suspended forever in the darkness, not living but not dying either. Yes, she could imagine herself dying over and over in this room, suffocating, driven insane by the claustrophobia that was already rising out of her. The terror gave way again and she let loose a wild scream, regardless of whether or not she was heard, she shrieked and thrashed against the invisible mold that held her body in one pose. Forever, with no horizon.

Minutes, days, years later.

Sleep, to sleep forever didn't seem so terrible. It was almost funny how even though nothing changed, it felt safer to close her eyes and imagine. Only sleeping, only resting... this way, she'd never have to worry about anything ever again. It would be as if she didn't even exist. Be calm, Melantriche, you're resting in your mother's womb. Only resting... resting...

* I guess for dramatical effect, I'm going to cut this chapter in half. They'll probably come out in the same timeframe. I feel like I can really relate to Melantriche in this chapter cuz I went to the radiology station yesterday. Being tucked inside the machine for solid near 30 minutes was a very strange, almost scary experience lol. *